Sometimes, late at night, when thoughts crash over me like waves in a storm. When my mind is spinning, and sleep seems miles away, you come to me. I remember your eyes, first. The deep brown, with the honeyed flecks, that draw me in, and make all of my thought, all of my worries, gone. I watch the soft sunlight filter across your familiar features.
You lift your hand, and push back my hair, and I feel myself lean into your touch.
"You know that I am going to have to leave soon?" You quietly ask, pulling your hand away from my face.
"Yes" I mumble, feeling my eyes start to water. I blink, as the tears blur away your beautiful face. It happens every time. You leave. Just stand up an walk away. And every time I am frozen. Stuck watching you walk away. Staring as the meadow flowers brush across your legs as you walk. Feeling the tears streaming down my face. And then when you reach the wood line, your gone. Disappeared from sight. And suddenly like magic I can move again. And every time I chase you into the woods, but I already know. You are gone.
But right now, it's not time yet for you to go. And so I do something I haven't ever done before. I stand up. And I turn and I leave. Because I can't go on like this. And because I am done being the one to watch you leave. And as I stride into the woods, I realize. You were never there.
Because I am in my bed, staring at the red numbers on the clock. But as I lift my hand to my face, I feel the wetness. Because even though I know you weren't real, I still feel your hand on my face. And I remember that I love you.
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Short StoryI have found a sort of passion for writing short stories based on musical pieces. I find that by connecting these two forms of art, I can really reach deeper into my writing, and pull out emotions, and points of view, that I normally wouldn't. I hop...
