We Are

September Morning

I carefully brush a brown lock away from her bare shoulder. The morning light caresses her body making my jealous gaze linger at her curves. Laoel isn't what western standards would call beautiful, yet I can never tear my eyes away from her. Her sharp shoulders and soft curve of a narrow hip. Too sharp, too thin, too dangerous - her entire being is as if made of glass, one wrong move and I will get cut. But I cannot see any of that.

Asleep she looks fragile, like every bone can be broken by the wind that howls outside the window. Her golden skin, greenish from the long days inside, as if missing a long lost friend, reflects the cold sunlight. It catches every last ray of it, lets it play across it, creating stunning patterns. I'm mesmerized, losing myself in her scent and presence.

She turns around searching for me, still half asleep but awake enough to try to escape the cold by pushing her face into my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head softly and she mumbles my name. I know that all this will fade in a second. The sunrise will end, she will open her eyes and in them I will see that same exhaustion that has been haunting her for months. Her green iris will be muted, as if hidden in the fog that the weak sunlight is chasing away from the city.

I breathe in and close my eyes, wishing this last second of peace could last forever.

But it doesn't.

I hesitate before closing the door behind her as she leaves. We never speak much in the mornings. She's always rushing, forced to be back before her family wakes up. But today feels different somehow.

I try to convince myself that I am imagining things. That her every word doesn't sound like a goodbye, that every kiss isn't filled with things we never said.

I watch her walk down the street and turn the corner, feeling my heart jump in my chest. It's fighting to leave me behind, to sprint down the stairs, follow her down the street and go with her to wherever she is going. Standing there by the open window, with the curtains softly brushing against my side and that dull goddamned sunrise still coloring my world, I wonder why I've never told her that I love her. Now it feels like too late, much, much too late.

I don't know this yet, or maybe I do know. Maybe I just can't stand to admit it to myself, admit that this is the end.

This is the last time I see her. The next morning she is gone without a trace. And I am left behind, remembering and mourning; for the rest of my life regretting that I didn't run after her that dull September morning. 

Thank you so much for reading, please comment or vote to tell me what you think //Alex