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A Forgotten Time

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A brilliant mix of red, orange, and yellow illuminated the clouds on the horizon. This harmonious combination of colors soothed my mind as I lay in the grass. My worries dissipated as I stared at the sunset. Each time I gazed at the sunset, it seemed that I could identify even the smallest shift in its position as it slid away under the horizon. The calm of the scene was amplified as I looked into his green eyes that blended into the natural scene.

The emotions he put forth were always genuine, always peaceful. I could tell a story by the slightest crinkling of his eye. Etched into each inch of his skin was a bottomless grandeur that anyone would stop to admire. If the setting sun lent light to the foliage in order for nature to flourish, he was both the sunlight and the never ending green found in nature.

Here was this perfect human with such prominent strengths that would be overwhelming to any victim. The way he smiled at passing girls only got a blush out of them as they rushed away. When he smiled at me, I smiled back.

I did my best to complement perfection for it was something I could not achieve. But that was all I could ever do—complement him. It made me feel small. I was the only one he ever wanted, but I couldn’t understand why something so grand would stop to look down.
I couldn’t duck my head to his endless string of compliments. He was the only one who took the time to compliment the color in my cheeks only he could see. He was the only one to mirror my shining eyes. I lost myself in him, in perfection—and not in a flattering way. I didn’t know who I was or who I had become.

My only defining factor was him—perfection. I tried to triumph the challenges that came my way, but my only strength in these triumphs was him. His words were like a lullaby that constantly replayed itself in my mind—perfection. Perfection is what anyone would cherish, but it only haunted me.

I sought the impossible perfection once complementing him wasn’t enough; I could use it to define myself. I tried my very hardest, but I always fell in defeat into his arms that acted as a cushion. After all, I couldn’t fall within myself. It depressed me when I realized that simply trying at something wasn’t enough, that I tried so hard only to fail. He used to say that I didn’t have to do anything to win his love; he already gave that to me as something he couldn’t take back, but I see it as something I never really earned.

I consider myself a fool now, as I look down at him from the hells of Heaven. Up here, nothing has changed. I am held up by the clouds where there is a hell churning among the soft whiteness. I can’t believe what I have done. I couldn’t see what I had when I had him, and I can’t see what I have now, when I’m supposed to be in a peaceful place. It was a torture then; it’s a torture now. I’ve definitely lost something I never should have contemplated giving up.
He’s no longer lying down with me in the grass as he watches the sunset; he’s standing in an extremely rigid, somber way, and his cool, forthright emotions are no more. The colors are neither bright nor soothing. Rather, they have paled to the dreariest of whites, blacks, and grays. As I watch him from my seat in the clouds, he looks at the sunset with a somber expression, and each time, he cries for what used to be. Even the green has evaporated from everything around and within him. Because of what I’ve done, I have lost him, the one whom I had taken to calling my Hope. I used to laugh unsurely to be echoed by his certainty. I used to smile hesitantly to receive a genuine smile in return. But these are forgotten times. Now, the only thing that graces the sunset is perpetual sadness born of a forgotten time.





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