Love, Aristotle

chapter 2

Damon

I exited the building, leaving her alone. I knew she would be upset but I'd make it up to her tonight.

I couldn't handle it. Their judgemental stares, words they didn't need to say but I understood everything.

They didn't want me near their daughter at all.

I've noticed throughout the years, as we grew older so did their resentment towards me.

It's like they knew me but didn't.

Especially after I dropped out of school. It wasn't like I was getting bad grades, failing classes. It was actually the opposite.

I never wanted to admit it, but she knew. I used to care a lot about my grades.

Then reality hit me and there were bigger problems in my life than solving what x was. It was all useless to me. I had other things to deal with.

She wasn't mad at me for quitting. She said school stripped you of your dreams.

She was right, as always.

In my dreams, I played the piano for her as she danced to the tranquility of it all.

We had a whole stage, all eyes on her, especially mine.

She'd be as graceful as the music filling the air while I was her muse.

I'd play for her and she'd dance her heart out to the world.

I dreamed of it often. A perfect life. Where I could keep her safe from the darkness embedded in me.

Her light shined brighter than anything. It was a place only we knew.

The future.

One day, I hoped. We'd get to live it together.

I unlocked my car, getting in. Reversing out of the parking lot, I turned on the radio, letting the music fill the emptiness around me.

Her favourite song, Sunsetz by Cigarettes after Sex played.

I drove off down the streets, feeling nothing at all. Except a flutter in my heart as I thought of her.

I hoped she wasn't mad at me for leaving. Surely she'd understand?

I'd make it up to her, that was a statement.

In my mind, to say something was one thing. And to make a promise was another. Promises were stupid, you could break them just as easily as they were made. Empty words, full of meaninglessness. And all that bullshit. I didn't need that.

A statement was the word that described it.

A statement meant that it was going to be done. I'd make it up to her. No promises. No empty words. A simple sentence that meant everything.

I love her.

That was statement. There was no forever in those words. No tomorrow. Just now.

I pulled up to my place and went inside. Emptiness greeted me. I had grown accustomed to the deafening silence. But it still didn't feel like home.

Home.

She was my home. And right now, away from her; I was away from home.

Here, I always felt alone. In my own house. I wanted nothing more than to be in her arms.

Going outside from the back door, I sat on the porch steps, looking up at the sky, glistening with stars.

I was the sky; she was the stars.
She lit up my life like the stars did the night sky and when I looked at her, she made me feel like I was worth a million stars.