"Strawberry Wine"

It’s a magical place, with trees that kiss the pink sky and leaves that dance to the music of the unknown. It’s a place where dreams can run on forever, and eyes never shed their colors. Each element has its on purpose, and they are each worn down by a secret passion. To everyone else’s eyes, this land is just ground. It has no special meaning, other than the beauty of nature. He knows though, the little boy with cowboy boots and painted gold hair. He remembers it all just the same as I do. Nothing, nor no one, could separate us and the woods. I fell in love with the fireflies that circled us and the moon that chased us at night. Why did those bright lights scare us away? The ones that ran across the pavement, and followed travelers. They took you away, and left me on the side of the pavement, watching all our colors rain.**

The red truck stills sit in the gravel driveway, and it cries out to me in my dreams. It keeps me running back, only to realize, you're not there. I’ve had these stairs memorized, the smell of fresh cookies in the kitchen, and the way your momma used to watch me, with loving eyes. If I could stop time, I’d make it so that we never had to grow up. We could lay in the grass every evening, and watch that big buttercup go down. Oh how I wish you were still here with me, on these blue rusted swings. The same ones we used to crawl over, smiling at one another, with no fear of falling. I keep thinking that one day, I’ll forget, and that will be our end. But it keeps running in circles in my mind, your blue eyes keeping hold of me.

I was a dreamer, a dreamer of falling in love, and you swore to only love your family. Yet, you kept with me, you never wanted me to leave and you had tears in your eyes when you had to go. I couldn’t look at you, and your momma knew in her heart, that this was never our end. You used to pick me up in your truck, just so I didn’t have to walk by myself. Although, I was never far from your home. You hated girls, always thought they were useless, and not good at working. You believed in the philosophy that men were always high ranking, always tougher. But you made me your equal, although, some of the time I didn’t wanna work in the mud. I’d still roll up my jeans, exposing my small legs, and bury myself in the earth, only for you. I used to have fancies of what we’d look like when we were older. You would ride a beautiful brown coated horse, wearing worn out boots, and a cowboy hat. I’m not exactly sure what I was in my own mind, but it was me.

**I climbed on top of that old tractor, and peered downwards. Thorns stung in my bloody legs, and my hair was piled in curls. The sun beat down on the old swing set, and held my gaze on it. The voices squealing next door, kept me still as the roots. Only moving when there was a speck of thrill in my heart, wanting those memories to flood back. My feet dangled down from the tractor and caught in spider webs. I knew your daddy probably hadn’t touched it since the move, which kinda stung my heart. I knew your daddy still owned the garage, and everything in it. Because his truck pulled into the neighbor’s driveway every week. His work consisted in this garage. Although, I never really knew what it was. I pushed my hands down on the tractor and lowered myself on the dirt. I stood and inhaled it all, seeing if maybe he would come, on accident but see me and want to stay. We’re both much older now, you no longer think girls are icky, but still despise some of them. And I’ve lost my stringy brown bangs, which saddens me for some reason. Your momma still wishes me to marry you, but I’m not entirely sure how she’d ever get you to admit you want it too.**





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