An Adaptation of the song: "Terrible Things" by "Mayday Parade"
His eyes that look like hers—his lips that purse like hers—everything that reminds you of her… And the story that you never dared share…
He’s begged you for years, but your heart has only finished mending enough to where you can bare to get the words out without sobs directly following…
“Now son, I’m only telling you this because life can do terrible things.”
The deep breathe in— try to prevent the waterlogged words—there’s no going back once you’ve started…
“All in a second my world is transfigured.
A hideous hell transformed into a glorious heaven, all by one simple glance.
When such a thing happens right before your eyes, you don’t look away. You sit, stunned into silence, waiting for it to suddenly change back… Hoping, praying to whatever God there is ‘Don’t change back… Please…’
My dirty eyes locking onto her clear ones—
At once she rose, and started to walk, hips moving in rhythm with the rest of her curves, hair blowing in the nonexistent wind.
‘This is how I know that I have been dragged from the slums,’ I thought to myself, ‘Because I have never once in my life seen such a precious being’,
‘Can I tell you a wonderful thing?’ she whispers to you in that sweet angelic voice, and even in the hustle and bustle, your ears can still pick out the sound, because it’s the sweetest melody in the free and un-free world.
So stunned, you can’t even manage words, yet she continues without a single hesitation—
‘I know I shouldn’t say this,’ with a bite of a lip that sends my entire being into overdrive, she states, ‘but I really believe,’ the nervous breath, ‘I can tell by your eyes,’ that little lean in closer to you than she was before, but yet, not close enough, ‘that you’re in love with me…’
And oh how right she is. In one second everything that had ever happened turned from frantic to fantastic…”
You look back into the eyes that mirrored your love’s so vividly--
Your heart wrenches for her, hands still clench in thought of holding her, eyes water at the thought of any thing having to do with the angel that turned your disaster into a beautiful life.
Another deep breath as you so slowly begin to recall the formative years of your delightful being,
“Now, son, I’m only telling you this because life can do terrible things.”
“Wine had never seemed so inviting, for being drunk with an angel was the greatest high of all.
Stars never seemed so dim, for she outshined everything she came into contact with.
Sharing the inner and outer workings of our being never seemed so necessary until I met the angel of my life.
We, being old enough to know the difference between the right path and the wrong, sometimes chose to be wrong, because getting lost together was an adventure all its own.
I still remember the night, when the rapidity of my heart beat almost brought me to my knees.
The box in my breast pocket, pressing where I so dizzily wished her hands would rest.
Staring up at the dimness of the sky, comparing it to her beauty, I am almost able to recall the entire scene of the day my life had changed, ‘Girl, can I tell you a wonderful thing? I’ve made you a present with paper and string…'
I pull out the small box from my breast pocket and press it lightly into her daintily perfect hands, softly, mustering up the courage to state, ‘Open with care, now, I’m asking you please, you know that I love you, will you marry me?’”
The most beautiful eyes that you long to see, lighting up in a way that can make your heart ache, in a way only described by loneliness.
“Now son, I’m only telling you this because, life can do terrible things, you’ll learn one day, and I’ll hope and I’ll pray that God,” the eyes start to deflate, as if he knows what’s to come, “shows you differently…”
“The day that the transfiguration expired was the same day that the angel lost her glow.
And in that moment it was like I knew that nothing would ever be the same.
Wine would never taste as good, for being drunk on loneliness is not a good taste.
Stars would shine too bright, making it impossible for sleep, dreams, and sanity.
To share the inner and outer workings of ones self would never be a possibility, because to talk to an open grave was about as sane as talking to a lone corner.
Holding our beautiful baby boy, who mirrored his mother, would never be quite as magnificent, because her eyes, her lips, her beautiful nose were cemented onto the baby boy, and he could never know what pain it could cause.
‘Boy, can I tell you a terrible thing,’ the bite of the lip that had once sent me into an anxiety overdrive, now sent my heart pumping in a terrible way, ‘it seems that I’m sick and I’ve only got weeks…’ she puts her hand on my face, a comforting gesture, I’m sure, but as I lean into the warmness of her hand, I can do nothing but think of my prior resting place—Hell.
‘Please don’t be sad, I really believe that you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me…’”
As if in slow motion you’re back with her again, recapturing the exact moment that your life re-transfigured from Heaven to the fiery depths of Hell. Reaching, Falling, the banging of the fists on the floor.
Her eyes stare down at you, unknowing, unblinking, un-able to process the scene lying before him.
You reach up for him, but he can not bear to reach down for you, “Don’t fall in love there’s just too much to lose!” you pull your hands down to your heart where the wrenching pain is getting stronger and stronger, “If given the choice I beg of you! Choose to walk away!” Your voice rapidly mellowing, “Don’t let her get you… I can’t bear to see the same happen to you…”
You can only muster a muffled sob as you put a hand on your face for one last time, “Son, I’m only telling you this because life, can do terrible things.”
