I played.
It's so strange, my mind remembers the concept of every note, but the rest of me lacks behind. I am out of habit. My mother goes on and on about how she was right, how I'd regret it and pick it up again. I think it makes her happy, as if playing again honors an old version of me. It's nice, it reminds me of you.
It has been three years since I've played the piano, a trait you taught me. It felt like all desire to proceed playing drained from me the night you came, left then never returned.
Sometimes I think about the possibilities. If I had told you, would things have been different? Is it selfish of me to sit up hastily every time the old wood floor creaks, assuming you'd be there waiting? I look every time, unable to accept what time has done to the reality I grew used to. I wonder, could we have been more than what was to be, more than just an experience to look back on? Life goes on and feelings pass, but are you still the man who holds my memories? The ones you wrote with me, by my side...
I truly miss you, I can't help but linger on the memories of your embrace during those brisk nights. Your seafoam eyes and hair that lightens during this time of year. Tell me you remember, with respect to our prior self. How could you have fallen, I was too busy daydream and ignore reality while the world around us crashed down. I can't help but think that simplicity could have been the reason all along. Maybe more than just a girl from your hometown who you taught piano. Maybe the honest feelings we shared harbored an honest love, too dear for either of our young self's to understand.
I promise to keep our secrets and our stories under the willow bridge and all I ask is for you to promise to write. I may be your honest love but I accept that time has passed, creating both new people. I'll hold the you I know close, for that late summer made me who I am. You inspired me to be and I will forever seek comfort in what we were.
It's been three years, I hope you've been well.
Love,
Mae
-A/N-
Hello, My name is Anna and I'm doing a rewrite of a fanfic story I wrote when I was 14. I'm going to hold it's core story close, honoring it as much as I can as I add depth to a short story my younger self was very proud of. I don't know how long it will take me to update or how long I am going to make the story itself. For now this is just a passion project. No, this is no longer a fanfic, yes, this is a love story,( tissue warning ) and now with age I want to make it more reflective of certain aspects of mental illness. I will have trigger warnings. Thank you for taking the time in reading this entry sample of whats to come. Any constructive criticism is welcome and likewise I'd love to hear your concepts of the story and where it's going.(:
YOU ARE READING
Love, Mae
Kısa HikayeSometimes I think about the possibilities. If I had told you would things be different? Is it selfish of me to rush up every time the wood floor creaks, expecting you there, I look every time. I wonder, could we have been more than what was to be, m...