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Fast and Slow

There’s a little point on the bank of the stream where I used to meet you.
Covered by branches, hidden from view, it was the perfect spot.
And I remember you when I first met you, flustered because you had gotten an A- on your algebra test, and I laughed because I didn’t know that could be so important to someone.
And you glared at me for what seemed like the longest time, and then... and then I don’t know what happened.
It was all so fast, and quick.
And you showed me that little place on the bank of the stream near your house, where you used to draw and write and sing along to music.
You were the best thing that ever happened to me, besides my dad leaving.
And you showed me the tattoo you had gotten illegally, right on the middle of your back.
I asked how you went swimming, you said you didn’t, but I pushed you in the stream anyways.
And I remember how you always kissed me, you’d look me right in the eyes... and then
it was magic.
And I remember how we snuck out late at night and brought a blanket, and some sprite.
Your favorite soda.
And we would lay back, your hand on my stomach, head on my chest, and you would whisper to me, tell me about your hopes and about your fears, and tell me why you liked me and why you told me the things you did.
Those were the magical moments.
And we went to the pier, surrounded by flashing lights, and people. And we sat right at the edge, our legs dangling off.
I told you that there were sharks down there and that they would jump up and bite those who were scared, because sharks could smell fear.
And you were scared, but I laughed. And you pretended to push me off.
I was scared, and you laughed.
Then we got burgers and fries.
And I remember the starry nights where we would trek up to the hills and lay down and watch the stars, you never kissed me on those nights, because you said it was bad luck to kiss in front of the stars. But I always kissed you.
And then I remember the emergency meeting, the day it all changed.
We’re moving, you said.
And I couldn’t believe it.
You’ll come see me often and write long emails? I pleaded.
You said yes.
And then you were gone, and I didn’t hear from you, and I called the number you gave me but the operator said the number didn’t exist.
And then years passed by slowly, I went to college, into the navy.
I never forgot about you.
The day when my term was up, I was determined to find you, drive all around, look you up.
But you were there at the dock, with 2 cans of sprite and an apology.
And I thought it would be hard to forgive you, but it was easy, because I still loved you.
And you said, maybe, one day, we would get married and live happily ever after, and we’d live in your old house, and at night we would go onto that spot, our spot, on the bank of the stream near your house.
You were the best thing that had ever happened to me, bar none.




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edgeofnight said...
Mar. 19, 2011 at 10:42 pm:
This is sweet! I really like your writing, and I want to know what happened that made him give her a wrong number ;)
 
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