It was the summer of 1882 in Cambridge, England. I was but 16 at the time, it seems so long ago; since it is one of the only memories I still remember completely from my childhood. The summer was a mystic one: filled with romance and pain. Yes both of those things were in this joy and pain filled summer. But then again those things are very much a part of each other. With pain comes love, and with love comes pain. There is always a light of love at the end of the tunnel, and there is always a tunnel of pain at the end of the light. It is an on going circle, a circle that will go on for eternity whether you want it to or not. All right, now I will begin the story, there he stood on the bridge overlooking Gander’s Pond. I walked past my head down covered with the overcast shadows of the summer storm that grew overhead. He stood just looking over into the reflection of the sunset in the water. I felt as though I had cut off his arm, but what I said had to be said. There was no other way.
I walked away from him holding my head as high as I could. Making him believe I didn’t care and that I wasn’t hurt, but I didn’t believe that lie myself, how could I. I had to run from the pain and love I felt. I lifted my skirts as I ran through the dust and dirt, leaving a heartbroken boy clutching my own heart to his chest. He called my name bitterly, yet longingly into the wind. It echoed around me and I thought about turning back...turning back was impossible now and I knew it. I made up my mind; I would go while I still had my dignity. I crossed the beach slowly, just trying not to cry. I began walking past the vast crowd of people that remained on my front lawn from the morning events of that day. I walked towards the door and as I reached for it I stopped one last time to look back at him, and then I wrenched the door open and disappeared inside. I walked past Maggie our housekeeper, past father, and past mother. I ran up the stairs and into my room with my mother calling from behind me, "don’t run it’s not ladylike and what did you do to your stockings?” I slammed the door and plopped onto my bed, I closed my eyes as I drifted off to sleep. I awoke hours later, my hair a pile of golden curls on the pillow. I heard pebbles hitting my window and I knew, he was outside, waiting for me. but i layed my head back down and stayed quiet. I couldnt face him again. I just couldn't.