Countdown To Love

Love Is Love

The wind whipped my black hair into my face, leaving me to annoyingly push it aside. There was a smudge of ink on my left hand from writing this morning, covering up my tattoo. I wet my finger to wipe it off, and could actually feel my finger freezing.

I was unprepared for this autumn coolness. That's the way it is here in Chicago. It could be pool weather one week, and winter the next. We only had about a month of real, authentic autumn. Ah, autumn. A time for flannels, pumpkin spice lattes, and pumpkin patches. That's actually where I was right now; a pumpkin patch.

I stared at row upon row of fat orange pumpkins. It was quite a sight, too. Their vines weaved in and out of the small fences around the sets, to protect the pumpkins from mice and whatnot, I guess.

There was almost no one else here. Just a few lone cars on the road, a heavyset woman buying an apple cider at a stand run by two children, and an overdressed man in a suit with his tiny daughter.

I was supposed to meet someone here but she never showed. We've been best friends since pre-K, and I was kind of hoping for her to be my soulmate, like on all the fan fiction and novels I read. Y'know, boy meets girl at age 5, 20 years later they're married and she's pregnant?

But that could never happen with us.

She's completely in love with someone else at our school. I don't know who, though, she won't tell me. All she says is that they're physically and absolutely perfect in every way. Although I don't see how anyone could be more perfect than her.

Long brown hair, caramel skin, big golden brown eyes. Short and curvy, she is everything a guy could want. But we have different times. She still has three weeks left until she knows if this person is the one or not.

I just have today.

I chose this spot because it's important to me. Every Halloween, my family would come here, pick out a couple big ones, and just carve our butts off. My little sister would buy apple turnovers for her dessert, and my older brother would treat us all to coffee and pumpkin pie, that he homemade.

I don't know what I'm hoping for in this 'soulmate' person. I just wish that they love me. That's it. My only standard. I'm praying that their standards are pretty low, too. 'Cause this is all they're getting.

I'm thin, bony even, and pretty tall at 5'11". I'm only twenty-two, but I kinda look like I'm sixteen. I can play the cello, but I'm not exceptional or anything. I mean, I can surf, though. The internet. I suck at all other sports.

My eyes are dark blue, I like to say they're TARDIS blue. My nose is small and thin. Don't even get me started on my skin color! I'm so pale, I look like the upside of a piece of paper! I just can't comprehend how all my friends are so tan, when we almost never see the Sun.

Other than that, I'm pretty average. All through high school, I was called 'emo' or 'depressed'. Not as a fact of who I am, just a stupid label so they could place me with all the goth kids.

In college, it was basically the same thing, almost worse. I was just the emo kid with the headphones always blasting heavy metal or punk rock music. I had one friend. One. All college. It was my roommate, Devin Hawthorne. He was a good-looking guy, bringing home a different girl every other week.

But it looks like now, even my soulmate's ditched me. Where was she? Time was almost up, and I didn't see anyone around who didn't look like they were already married. Come on!

Anonymous POV

I observed him from behind a bush. He was breathtaking. I watched with wide eyes as he hugged a flannel closer to his body and his blue eyes searched the area. Searching for me, I presume. I don't know why I didn't just go out there and talk to him. I guess I was just nervous; maybe he wouldn't love me?