Sonnet 43

Line Seven

‘I love thee freely, as men strive for right.’

                                                                   ***

It must have been minutes since I ran away from Adam, but it certainly felt like hours to me. I ran mindlessly, not caring where my feet would take me. Finally deciding to stop, I panted and realized that I was now standing in front of the entrance of the city park – the place where Adam spilled his darkest secrets previously hidden beneath the smallest shards of his heart.

I laughed humorlessly, suddenly remembering Alanis Morissette. Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you.

It’s one thing to realize that somebody likes you, but it’s another thing to actually hear them say it – or imply something along the lines of it, as per Adam’s case. My heart was like a caged bird, struggling to break free from my stupid rib cage while I raked my head for possible reasons why he could harbor such strong feelings for someone as boring as I.

I sat on the nearest bench, just beside the ice cream booth, and stared straight ahead. My knees shook from exhaustion; I was far too preoccupied earlier that I almost forgot I was carrying my bag and books with me. Looking around, I saw kids running around with their parents and holding their kites up. It was the beginning of summer, and normally I’d be excited about so many things.

Not this time, though.

As if on cue, Adam arrived, heaving. He stood in front of me, blocking the beautiful view and effectively pulling me out of my trance. I moved to my left, and he sat beside me.

“I’m sorry—” I started, but he shushed me.

“No. Don’t,” he clenched his jaw, “Don’t say sorry.”

I nodded; to be honest, I just wanted to tell him that I was sorry for being such an insensitive bitch, but I guess he’s not having any of it.

“Tell me,” I suddenly blurted out even before I had the chance to stop myself. He turned to me in surprise. I don’t even know why I said it, but it just felt right.

He shook his head, “No, not when you don’t trust me enough.”

“N-No,” I breathed, “I trust you…I—”

“Define ‘trust’,” he looked at me straight in the eye, and I tried hard not to flinch. Why is he doing this to me?

“Adam, I’m trying. So, please, talk to me.”

“How can I be so sure that you won’t run off like a madman this time?”

I said nothing as I reached out and touched his hand tentatively, but he quickly caught it and turned it over so he could intertwine our fingers. My breath hitched up. Electricity flowed in me like water; the main source of power is our entwined fingers, and I could only look at it in wonder. How is it that something so innocent a touch could easily set my heart on fire?

He sighed, ran his free hand through his hair, “Fine, but before anything else, I’d like to say sorry for almost hitting your brother with a beer bottle last night,” he laughed lightly but soon stopped when he saw my frown, “No, really, I’m sorry. He was just being overly-dramatic about something I said.”

“What did you say?” I pressed while he played with our hands absently.  He just looked at me slightly before shrugging, “You’ll know soon enough.”

“Why don’t you just—”

“—say it to you right away? Evey,” he said incredulously, “I hope you didn’t forget what you just did earlier. You left me like an idiot back there, just because I said something about my feelings.”