This one shot was for a contest. The song is A Thousand Years By Christina Perri.
August 7th, 2012
Love. It's a word, a meaning, and an emotion. Sometimes it can shatter your world into a million pieces and sometimes it can completely consume you, until it's all you think about. It can cause, pain, loss, and most of all heartbreak, but above all, it conquers all. The pain and the heartache are all apart of the concept.
I wish I could tell you different, but it's all true. I know this, because I've lived it. I've been in love and it's bother shattered me and made me stronger. The thing is, I don't regret one moment I had with her. I don't regret one memory I shared with her and I don't regret loving her.
I could never regret loving her, it would be an impossible task, no matter what we've been through. The lying, the hatred, the pain and the heartache are meaningless if I never got to spend any of the moments I did with her.
She was and will always be my everything.
I closed the journal that was and forever would be my safe get away to the woman I loved, or love. She was over as thousand miles away and I couldn't be with her because I was scared. The way we had left things three years ago wasn't something I was ready to delve into quite yet. Of course, I knew we would have to, but the past is the past, right? Why bring up things that don't matter anymore?
Because they do matter, you just don't want to admit it, my inner thoughts floated in the back of my mind. Okay, I didn't want to admit it, because I knew what I was getting myself into. I was setting myself up for heartbreak all over again, but I didn't care. I love her and that will never change.
So I needed to stop being scared and I needed to grow up and be the man my father taught me to be.
I dialed the one number that I knew by heart and I prayed with everything in me that she answered. Just hearing her voice would ease my nerves.
"Come on pick up," I murmured into the phone, holding onto my last shred of hope that she would answer.
"Hello?" A tired voice rang out on the other end and I felt my heartbeat pick up. She sounded exactly as I remembered her, only a little bit older.
"Laura," I clenched the phone in my hand so tightly that I could have sworn my knuckles turned white.
"Michael?" She whispered, her voice so low that I almost didn't catch what she said.
"Yeah. It's me. I....I wanted to talk," I ran a hand through my hair and seated myself on the couch sitting against the wall.
"You can't just call me up out of the blue and act like everything's okay, Michael! You don't get to do that! Not after you walked out on us," she fought back, her voice hard as ice.
I closed my eyes and took a breath through my nose, "how is she Laura?"
She laughed, but it wasn't the joyful kind of sound. It was bitter and it was filled with nothing but distaste. Or maybe it was hate? "She's fine. She asks where her daddy is every single day and I don't know what I'm supposed to tell her. 'Oh Sierra, daddy walked out on me before you were even born. He was scared and he didn't think he was ready to be a father.' Yeah, that'll blow over real well, don't you think?"
"Laura, I'm sorry! I was-"
"Don't you dare tell me that. You left me alone to raise our daughter and all you can say is your sorry? I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, Michael." Her breath hitched and I thought for a moment that she was going to cry, but Laura never cried. "I forgive you, Michael. I forgive you for not being there for when she was born, I forgive you for walking out when I told you I was pregnant, I forgive you for not signing the divorce papers even when I begged you to, I forgive you for not once trying to call or send an email or even a postcard, and most importantly, I forgive myself for still loving you."
