Forbidden

Heart! We will forget him!

As I smell the aroma of well-made food, feel a warm sensation; I realize I'm in my kitchen. I thought I'd make some spaghetti, my moms favorite dish. The process that is taken to make it is very fun. I boil the water and then put the raw noodles inside the boiling water. I then start to cook the beef. As I am cooking the noodles, the spaghetti sauce is being warmed up. When the beef and sauce are complete, I add them together. After the noodles are looking quite flexible, I throw one against the wall to see if it sticks, if it does I take it off the wall and slurp it up like I would on a slurpee. When all the elements of my superb spaghetti recipe are complete, I add them all together.

I remember when I was little; her food was always too spicy for me that I always needed a big glass of water when I was eating her food. Every time I finished a meal, I liked to clean the kitchen with her. While we were cleaning the kitchen, we would talk about lots of secrets that I couldn't let my father know. One of the stories I told my mother was that there was a rich boy trying to chase me, and he wanted to take me to a movie. He was always so overprotective of me. Every boy on the block was always so afraid to talk to him let alone ask me out.

Sometimes we started playing around in the kitchen like we splashed each other with the dishwater and chased each other around the kitchen laughing hysterically until we had a stomachache.

My mother would wash all the dishes; I dried them and put them in the cupboard neatly. To clean the kitchen after my mother cooked was the hardest task as my mother always used lots of dishes and pots. My mother quite often used a variety of spicy seasonings when she cooked which made a wonderful aroma throughout our house, sometimes even the neighbors could smell the food cooking and they would imagine how tasty the food was.

I left the pot of spaghetti on the stove, and went to my bedroom. I lay down on the cool, comfortable sheets. I look around at the familiar room, surrounded by the tokens of my childhood memories. A picture of Milo and me, my swimming trophy from seventh grade. Milo was a close family friend of mine, we used to always play games together. My eyes close, I feel the room start to spin as all goes black and I am falling, down and down.Enjoying the comfort of the soft cool throw and the downy pillow, the dim illumination from the moon through the window was just enough to spark my imagination and get my brain racing with thoughts.

Thinking back, It never made sense for Jacob to love me. None of it made any sense to me, he was my first love but certainly not my last. I think I finally let go of our strong and power love that had me hook on for years. I knew it was toxic. But I loved him so much. His love completed me.

I looked at my night stand to find a poem that Professor Cullen gave us to annotate;

Heart! We will forget him!

You and I -- tonight!
You may forget the warmth he gave --
I will forget the light!
When you have done, pray tell me
That I may straight begin!
Haste! lest while, you're lagging
I remember him!
Emily Dickinson

Great, this was all I needed a romantic and heart breaking poem to read before I go to bed. I put the poem back on my night stand, got under the covers and drifted to sleep. My eyes, heavy with sleep, slowly blinked. The world around me blurred as I drifted in to sleep. My eyes blinking, slowly the blinks became longer and longer.
--

The paper that I've been pulling my hair out with is due today, I never want to read Shakespeare again. Its been so extremely stressful, college really isn't for everyone. I walked into class, Professor Cullen had already started lecturing, he told me kindly to place my paper on his desk and take a seat.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love." He read

"Can someone explain to me what Hamlet is trying to say in this quote?"