Nevermore She never knew

My Love For You

I am trying to come to terms with what happened. Still, 8 years after her death, it holds me as if it was yesterday.

Well, therefore I would like to write down everything that is on my heart. The truth that burdens and torments me.

It's my story.

The story, "My love for you, my Larissa."

It begins with the first meetings we had. I didn't like you very much and yet I knew you were special. I didn't know then how special you would be to me. If I had known, I think I would have taken a rope that second just to ease my suffering and yours.

How it may sound for you to hear these words from me? 

Because where you are, you can understand my thoughts.

It breaks again just thinking back to that moment that changed everything for me. That little moment when I looked up to you and not because of your height, I never saw you as your equal and my feelings towards you were subtle until then.

Thoughts like this, where I thought to myself, what the hell makes you so extremely attractive to me?

Was it your blond, almost silver shimmering beautiful hair?

How I would have loved to see it open on your shoulders just once.

Your blue eyes, with the small green outer rim, which immediately captivated me and haven't let me go until today?

Larissa put down the leaves and stood up. She needed something stronger and harder if she was going to keep reading. This wasn't light reading. After pouring herself a glass of red wine, she went back to her couch, sat down, took a big gulp and continued reading.

You, the principal of the school I never wanted to go to and me, the little student in your eyes?

I wonder, was I ever more to you than just the little annoying student?

Have I ever, even once, been able to gain your respect?

And more importantly for me, have you ever loved me the way I love you?

I still have this longing to be in your arms, I long to feel your warmth. This warmth that I could never feel, but long for.

That love I felt when you walked up the stairs just after defending me and the entire school from the sheriff. 

You were a presence my love. You need to know that.

That flowery smell mixed with gentle death you gave off. I miss it.

Just to smell him, I go to the local morgue every now and then, They have those nasty apple scented trees hanging there. Honestly, it hits me in the stomach, but mixed with the smell of death, it reminds me of you my love.

Larissa hadn't noticed how quickly she had emptied her glass. She had been so engrossed in Wednesdays work that she hadn't noticed anything else. She hadn't even noticed how she was crying tears while she was reading. Damn, she thought to herself. She should have brought the bottle once. She put the sheets next to her and went to the kitchen to get the bottle, poured herself another one and didn't hesitate a second longer to keep reading.

Your will to fight, that gave me respect and I felt there was more than just the urge to want to take you so hard on your desk that neither of us would have known how to walk again.

Larissa gasped. The red wine wouldn't run into her stomach per tu, but stuck in her windpipe. It was a little strange to read that Wednesday was having these kinds of thoughts. And yet, her stomach tingled. The idea of it, didn't just make her stomach tingle. No, it pulled right between her thighs. Excitedly, she read on.

It was the feeling inside me, of unconditional love. I would have done anything for you my love, could I tell you?

What would you have said if I had told you? You were so unapproachable for me.

After quite a while had passed, she had read half of Wednesday's paper, the bottle of red wine now almost empty on the table, her tears wouldn't stop. She should have seen it then. Digging into her thoughts, she could see it. Wendsday was always close to her. No matter what, she was there. She remembered how often her hands had sought contact and if she was honest, she had enjoyed every touch. Now, in retrospect, the thought set all the nerve endings on fire. At the time, it would have been an absolute no-no if she had wanted to get involved. But now?

Would it still be taboo? Wednesday was an adult. Young, but grown up. Oh how sweet the thought hurt. She took the paper in her hands and read on. Curious to see what else Wednesday had to say to her.