I'm in bed sketching something.
Actually, sketching someone. A creation. My creation. It's not complete yet because all I can see is her eyes and nothing else. I can tell she's going to be beautiful once I'm done. She'll be very beautiful.
But the problem is; "Every murder starts with a sketch!" and I don't want this one's story to end the same as every feminine creation of mine. I loved all of them but they didn't want to be with me forever. It turns out that every woman I've loved doesn't really know the definition of what being in love with me is all about.
Well, it means staying loyal to me and only me. Loving me, Timothy Zolanski only. Loving and tolerating all my flaws and imperfections. Dealing with all my mistakes, pain and tantrums that I naively tend to make. Grow with me but don't grow out of our love we choose to share.
I deeply sigh as I trace my fingers on the paper. I can't help but think about how life is going to be once this beauty comes alive.
"You are mine. You are eautiful and everything gloriously divine. I love you already," I say to my incomplete sketch of my future wife. She's gonna come alive and we'll be together this time.
Forever.
YOU ARE READING
"My MaRiLyn..."
General FictionTimothy Zolanski, a mentally distorted young man moves into a new neighbourhood hoping to start a new life. He then becomes obsessed with a beautiful lady in the neighborhood called "Marilyn". Whom he believes he "thought" into existence through his...
