Even After Forever | ✔

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Text copyright © 2014 by Jamie-Dawn Jordan.

Cover art copyright © 2014 by Jamie-Dawn Jordan.

All rights reserved.

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"Chance?" She asks, concern dripping into her voice. She peers at me with those motherly eyes.

I clear my throat, "I think she was afraid to love sometimes. I think it scared her. She was the type to like things that were concrete, like the ocean. Something you could point to and know what it was … And I think that's why she also struggled with love. She couldn't touch it. She couldn't hold on to it and make sure it never changed."

She looks at me, her glasses perched on the arch of her nose, the clip board that she was once writing on was on her lap. She frowned her eyebrows at me.

"She sounds … different." She states, picking up her clipboard once again, a pen stuck lazily between her fingers, awaiting something else to write down.  

I nod my head, "Yes and there was something I always thought when I seen her. Would you care to hear it?"

She lights up, clicking her pen, readying it. "Of course." She says, a small smile on her lips.

"She was an Angel. She fell too fast and hit the earth to hard. She stood up, broken and shattered. She was misunderstood, too sensitive. She didn't like it down here on earth. She wanted to return home, to heaven." My voice cracks at the end, talking about her hurts like hell.

I take a breath before continuing, "I couldn't help but admire her work. Her photographs were perfection just like her. I love how her chestnut hair would flow past her shoulders, she would often become annoyed with it, and it was comical to watch her be irritated," I start, taking another deep breath before starting. My throat tightening as tears well up in my eyes.

"Her eyes are my favourite, they were a deep brown, and then there was flecks of green in them. She would look up at me with this spark of fire in them. She was perfect to me, but she couldn't believe that since she was brought to the lowest everyday." I growl out the last part, my anger rising up a bit.

She looks at me with this emotion in her eyes, it scared me to see that I'm looked at each day with the same emotion in everyone's eyes, "Your still in love with her." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"I always will be," I state, sadness flickers behind her glasses as she watches me. "She was also a beautiful writer as well." I say, holding the black leather book in my hand.

"Can you read me a passage?" She questions, I nod my head while shakily opening the book. The red ribbon lays on my lap.

Dear You,

You weren't suppose to mean this much to me. I was never suppose to fall this hard. But I did, and that's the truth. That's what keeps me holding on, because it hurts like hell to let you go.

But nobody really cares about our existence, but they will pretend. But why? Because they also need people to ( pretend to ) care about them. Why? Its simple really, human beings are fragile creatures with needy desires for emotions like love.

And in the end, we are all alone, because the people who told us they cared, lied. Because they too are human, selfish and desperate to feel loved.

But we're different, you're different. I can see it in your eyes, you have a pure heart. And our love, I believe that it'll last Even After Forever.

         Dearest Me.

Tears slide down my face as I finish reading this, I look up at her to see she's watching me intently. "I'm done for today." I grunt out, grabbing her book and leaving without a proper goodbye.