Just Yesterday

I could see him coming from a far. Was it really him? Every blink proved his visit to be true. My heart began to beat ferociously as if trying to escape the grip of pain that would soon come. The tightness in my chest became overwhelming. Was this fear? Then why was I smiling? I hung my head low. Without looking I could tell he was closer. Then at last, his feet were parallel to mine. I began to question my sanity. How could he really be here? Silence except for my breathing, which no matter how hard I tried, I could not control. I quickly glanced up catching the stare of his dark brown eyes. They began to swallow my heart. Gulping would be a more appropriate word. I quickly escaped. The pain my heart had been previously trying to escape from arrived.

I observed his face. It was mature. The face of a man. That's when I realized that he was one. The moisture in my eyes became too heavy. Suddenly the drops were cold upon my cheeks. I wish I could've seen him grow into this statue. He continued to stare. His eyes burning into my chest, ending all anger I felt for him. I wanted to ask him so many questions, but the moment was bliss, words would only ruin it. He didn't speak either, his eyes saying it all. Telling me he was happy. Healthy. Truly at peace.

Like every other night I wake, struggling to breathe. The room is filled with cold air and darkness, but I can see beads of sweat on my chest. A quick glance at the alarm clock on my dresser read "4:29 a.m." I try to fight the urge, but lose every match. I sit up and glance out my door way. I can see directly into his room. His untouched sheets, the clothes on a chair, the shoes near his bed. The same like every other night. Now I'm sure that I was dreaming. There's a heaviness over my eyes. How easy it was to go to sleep, I wish I could remember. I'm afraid to go to sleep. I keep having the same dream. I've had it for thirty- seven nights exactly. Nothing changes. Not his stare. Not my disbelief. Not the dream. The heaviness wants to win. I try to fight it, but not to hard, because I need to see his brown eyes again.

* I'm used to writing on paper, but this is a great way to stay organized. I try to put very relatable and believable emotions in my stories. Hopefully anyone who reads this will enjoy at least the effort I put into this. Keep looking for updates. .....LALA LOVES LOLLIPOPS