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She shivered as the bitter, late August wind ate at her cheeks, while the unexpected drizzle of rain did everything in its power to keep her from getting where she was going. Her ponytail came undone by the wind, and her dirty blonde hair fell in slight waves across her shoulders. She looked up at the ominous slate grey clouds as the drizzle of rain turned into a down pour. It was almost as if those clouds were following her so as to make it as impossible as could be for her to reach his house.
His house. I know what you’re wondering. Who is he? Who’s this girl with the dirty blonde hair, soaked and muddied clothes, and cheeks made red from the biting cold? In time, my good friends. As a wise person once said, “The truth shall set us free!” Indeed it shall! Before the truth though, let me go on with the story.
His house. His perfect white house, with his perfectly hung blue shutters, and his perfectly painted white picket fence. It had the very essence of… Perfection. It almost screamed, “I AM the American dream!” It was perfect… perfect like… well… perfect like him.
Perfect? “No, no, no!” you say with a chuckle. That’s what they all say. “No one is perfect! Everyone makes mistakes.” That’s when I say, “Yes, yes, yes!” and then, “That is true. No one is perfect and everyone does make mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes, including him…” As much as I dislike admitting it, he does make mistakes. That’s not what I’m talking about though! That’s not how he’s perfect! It’s not that he’s flawless, because he’s not! It’s the things he says, the things he does, and just him in general! Let me show you what I mean.
Perfect like him. Him and his beautiful blue eyes. Him and his gorgeously silky hair that was so blonde it was almost white, long and razor cut at an angle across his face. Him and his soft and gentle touch, which wants her, but respects her boundaries. Him and all his sweetness and lovingness.
“Oh my gosh! He’s so dreamy!” I know right?! You don’t have to tell me that, for I already know! I already see his dreaminess! I saw him for what he was before you did. But you still have questions of course. I know you do. Who is he? Who is this girl? Why is she trying so hard to reach his house, even while it is raining? You want answers? Here they are…
Her cell phone rang and vibrated from the back pocket of her blue jean shorts. She pulled it out while sheltering it from the ever present rain. Her parents… Ugh… She didn’t want to answer, and she most definitely wasn’t going to. They would call the cops at six like they always did when she didn’t come home. She was too busy to answer right now. To busy trying to reach his house, she was almost there. Almost there… So close, yet so, so painfully far away. Would she ever make it? Would she ever make it to her lover’s house? It seemed to her as though her love was doomed to fail… She gasped as she tripped over the side of the road, falling on her hands and knees, kneeling helplessly in the dirt…
“Don’t give up! Get up and go on! Keep going!” How can she though? How can she keep going on when there is nothing worth going on for? “But there is!” You yell, “There is, though! It’s him! That perfect boy! That perfect boy with that perfect house! Your lover! Isn’t he worth going on for?” No my friend… you see, the truth is… there is no lover anymore… He used to be her lover, for she has made a mistake… A terribly, horrible mistake…
She remembers a time, and an argument, that was not long ago…
“I saw you with her! I saw you with that red head! How could you?!” She screamed.
“I didn’t! I wouldn’t! I would never do that to you Babe!” Her lover said with pleading, desperate eyes. Oh no… Not the eyes… Not those gorgeously sweet, aqua blue eyes! She can’t resist them! But she has to…
“I saw you with her! Please do not lie! I saw you with my own eyes!” She cries between sobs. Accusing him of something so serious, and yet lying that she had seen him with that girl. That was her mistake, for he hadn’t been with that red head girl. That red head had been with her boyfriend, and he had been at home. Now, the girl with the dirty blonde hair, and the chestnut colored eyes, took one last fatal blow at her relationship.
“We’re over…” she said with finality, walking away and leaving behind the only boy who had ever loved her for who she actually was.
“What are you doing?!” you yell at the papers in your hand, “Why are you ending this with lies and false accusations?” You scream angrily. You see, this is not exactly how it was supposed to end. This story was not meant to end like this. It was supposed to end with a, “Happily ever after…” But it hasn’t… But still she wants it, and still she needs it… And so she runs… She runs from her past, and she runs for her future… She runs to the one she loved and who loved her… Hoping, praying, that it isn’t too late…
She pushes herself off the ground, her hands and knees scraped, bruised, bloodied and muddied. She starts to run again, faster and faster, wishing she had wings to fly. She runs past the pastures, past the fields, and past the overgrown forest. In her mind, there is no one else on this earth, no one but him. Then, when she can finally see his long, narrow, dirt driveway, she trips again. She falls down the hill next to that narrow dirt road, and she falls towards the flowing river. She falls for what seems like forever. Forever, until… She hits the dark water, and it washes over her, and it consumes her… She struggles to hold in her breath… To hold onto one of the last two things keeping her in existence… Keeping her alive… But then, she can’t hold on any more… She is letting go… And the last thing she is going to see is the vision of his face, conjured up in her mind…
Or is it? If you want this to be the end, the VERY end, then put down this paper now. If not, then read on… It may end how you want it to, and it may not… So read on adventurous reader… Read on for Life… Or read on for Death…
But no… It isn’t just some image of him, conjured up by her love and longing for him… It IS him. The REAL him… He wraps his arms around her, pulling her up, out of the dirty water, laying her down, soaking wet, her body limp and lifeless. He leans down, his lips meeting hers, giving her the Kiss of Life…
And she breathes… And she opens her eyes… And he smiles, brushing the stray hair from her wet forehead…
“Forgive me…” She whispers, her voice shaking, her blood chilled from the freezing water that almost claimed her life…
His hands tremble as he gently cups her face, and says, “I have already forgiven you…”
And lying there on the ground, in the arms of her lover, she cries. They kiss, and the only thing in the world to them is the warmth of their bodies, and the taste of each other’s tears as they kiss as only ones who have forgive each other can…
And as they both wanted from the beginning, and as we have all wanted from the beginning…
They know in that moment, that they would both live… Happily… Forever… after… and Happily… After what seemed like…