I tried, I tried so hard to be understood. I smiled when he said something funny at dinner earlier. We held hands over the table in the posh restaurant he insisted we go to. Why couldn't he understand me? Didn't he love me anymore? Why does he keep begging me to stop? Why did he want me to stop? We were having fun.
Looking into his brown eyes I couldn't help the feeling of love that enveloped me. He watched me unblinkingly, that was a sign wasn't it? I can't tell anymore. Frowning I replace the mason jar on the shelf next to the jar with his left index finger. The same finger he drew small circles into my back at night as we fell asleep together.
"He really does love me." The whisper barely audible. Mark jumps as the blade glides over his skin. Cool to the touch. "Sing me that song again baby, I want to hear it." I wait for him to start singing after a minute I get irritated. Pressing harder with the knives tip I write my initial into his chest dotting my i's with smiley faces as usual. "I said sing baby." I look into his face as he starts croaking out the lyrics. Why is his tears red? It must be his love for me. Smiling I lay in his lap as he sings in between sobs. "Lost little flower, all alone in the wind. I'll pick you, and keep you. I'll make you my queen..." I join in as he warbles. Yes I'm happy this is love. After 15 years I found it.
