Doing Fine.

January 12, 2012
By Amber Green BRONZE, New London, Connecticut
Amber Green BRONZE, New London, Connecticut
1 article 1 photo 0 comments

I walked into her house and this time something felt different, after not being here in so long. She was still wearing the same little tight shorts that barely covered much, there were girl that looked like her all over the world I learned this summer when I was out on tour. So I wish I could tell you why I was back again after telling her I never would be. Shes walking down the hallway leading me to her bedroom like I hadn’t been here a hundred time before, black and white memorys flooded my mind. The last time I was here she was in nothing but a T-shirt begging me not to go, that I didnt have to be famous for her to love me I just had to stay. Her tears were falling but I walked out and I told her I’d never come back here and there were other girl I’d find on tour.

She opened her door, her room still looked the same as when I left except she had a photo album spread out across the floor. I tried to avoid staring but those eyes and those shorts were calling my attention. She laid on her stomach on her bed, she knew exactly what she was trying to do. I guess I was all talk, I hadnt touched another girl since I left. Only she ran through my head, on a tredmill not trying to get anywhere just staying on the tredmill in the center of my mind. In a sports bra and those pink short she never stopped running, I even wrote her a song and I brought it with me to show her today.

She asked how I was doing and I had to be honest with her by saying not as great as I had planned. But when I aked how shes been she lit a cigarette and blew out the smoke into her baby blue room. Before I left I was the one smoking and doing all the stuff she used to hate, all the stuff she used to complain about. he ay she has been great and doing just fine, she said her little sister listens to my band all the time. I asked her for a cigarette and she threw one at me, I invited myself in and to sit on her bed next to her, she moved away. I wondered if any boys had been in this bed since I left but in my mind that was near impossible she begged me to stay not the other way around right?

I asked how her sister was and I told her I missed her, she said Katie was going into 10th grade now and she thinks she misses me too. She said “Katie plays your band when Im trying to go to sleep and it makes me want to go def.” I asked her if shes listened to any of it herelf, she said “No I try to play music I actually like over hers so I dont have to hear your voice.” She couldnt seem to be able to care any less about me being here or about what I was saying. I pulled out the song I wrote about her and she put out her cigarette and started brushing her blonde hair that used to end up all over my clothes. I couldnt believe this was happening to me, I thought she’d be right there waiting to run back into my arms but a lot has changed it seems.

“I wrote you a song, its one I love playing all the time.” she looked down at the paper in my hand. I handed it to her but she just put her hand out and pushed the paper til it crumpled back into my hand. She said twice in a row that she didnt want to hear it she threw her hands up by her face and shock them. She stood up and hopped over me, she said she’d be right back and she made sure to swing her hips as she walked out the door. I laid back in her bed and stared at the ceiling just like I used too when I was waiting for her. It seemed back than that I was always waiting on her. I started looking at the photo album that was spread out on her floor, her hard wood floor. In the mornings she’d complain it’d make her feet cold so I carried her across it, after a while I stopped doing that, and everything else too. I should have never stopped, just like I should have never left.

The pictures on her floor had the dates in the corner, she was in all of them, but she wasn’t alone. The pictures were dated within the past four months, I was gone for about five. She was with a different guy in every picture, hugging or kissing or holding hands but none of them were with me. Thats also my fault though I wouldnt allow her to take pictures of me, infact I wouldnt let her use her camera at all even though she loved too. I heard her walking back but theses pictures made me realize theres no coming back, shes moved on. That girl in my head running on a tredmill, not trying to get anywhere, was really trying to get somewhere all along.

She knew I was coming over so she knew what she was doing with those pictures out, and Im finally getting the point. I left my lyric on top of the pictures, face up for her to find and I walked out. I shut the door being me, she was standing in the hall with her hand on her hip leaning against the wall. I looked past her but she was smirking, I walked down the hallway and she followed me silently until I got to the front door when she yelled out to me and said “You didnt even call!!” She was in tears and her voice was breaking up, I gave her one last glance and turned back around without any words. She slammed the front door behind me and I stood outside my car under her window on the second floor. I put my head in my hand and thought about going back into the house, but before I did I heard the song I wrote for her blasting outside her opened window. As much as she said she never listened to my music, no one else was home so it had to be her.

I got in my car and pulled away just like I did the day I left her except this time I didnt speed out. And this time I took the long way home, and I didnt leave her crying in her lawn. I hope she listens to my songs still, and I hope shes doing okay. I hear shes out in California now, and I think thats just good for her. Even 5 years later I still think of her every time I go out on tour, and I still play her song. I look out into the crowd at shows for her blonde hair but I haven’t seen her yet so she must be doing fine.

The author's comments:
This article has to do with love, a hopeless romantic love. Within the story I imagined them being around 24 years old, living in a quiet neighborhood and I imagined them hopelessly in love.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!