The Absent Return

Chapter 2

I don't think she realises but I do see what she does, I wouldn't want anyone else to watch over. It kills me inside every time I see the feelings she's kept in for so long venting out of her system, but all I am to do is watch over as she mourns over me. All I want is to go up to her and give her a loving hug whispering in her ear the words that I hope would mend the heart that has been broken on my account.

When my arrival in this afterlife came I didn't want anything to do with it, I wanted Lydia in my arms. Not having to watch as she breathed out her emotions when she remembered a precious memory we once shared that was now in the past but not forgotten only behind us.

On that day, the day of my death, I was overcome with the fear of an indescribable feeling, myfirst thought was "If I die, what will happen to Lydia, we cant live separate lives, we are one, nothing anyone threw at us prevented our dive into the pit of loving another human being, loving each other." I didn't know what was to come for my life beforehand, I always assumed we would live together and live our wonderful, carefree lives together, instead we are now to live our not so wonderful lives apart.

The moment I was engulfed by the waves I knew it was the end, the end of my short existance. Somehow I still had the small amount of hope, maybe someone will dive down here to save me, but as the seconds went by I was to realise as much as I fantisized about it, it was never going to happen, never was I going to have air fill my lungs, all I have to fill my lungs was the salt water provided by the vastly deep ocean I was drowning in.

As my body was slowly sinking to beneath the surface I felt the disappointment, I felt disappointed in myself for jumping into this collossal landscape without the warryness of the possibility of what could and did happen. , I was left to drown in the pits of my own sorrow and the sea water.

Lydia, whatever pain she felt at the moment her phone set off wouldve all been caused by me, however the amount of pain she suffered I believe she should know (even thought she won't) that what she was going through was not nearly as much pain as the feeling I was going through, I was forced against my will to join another side of life that I am compelled to live in without the love of my life, without the anchor to bring me back down to earth if I ever got ahead of myself, I was lost and I didn't know what to do with myself after I was ripped out of life itself and living as I knew it.

The Salt Water filled up my lungs like water to a glass and I knew it was the end.

Lydia was the girl at the front of the class, most of the time that hand of hers shot up knowing the answer to the question straight away. I was just the kid with the friends who acted like the ran they place but in reality, they were just the morons who acted cooler than everyone else attempting to be popular, which until high school didn't work. When we did reach High School a few of the guys in our group had some connections to the already popular kids so that granted us a ticket on to the train of the messed up trail of douchebag populars.

I always had this part of my mind where I thought Lydia was the greatest thing on the face of this earth, but other times I feel I don't stand a chance. As hard as it is to admit, Lydia has and always will be the receiver of the stares, winks and name calling, because I felt it was better to show her the playful side to the feelings deep in my heart rather than confessing the crush I had since the moment I saw the chocolate colored hair cascade over her face and the deep blue - greeneyes that I thinklook like delicatecrystals, due to them being as fragile and gentle as a crystal something I knew she loved, and something I could never tear my plain grey colored eyes away from, yet she always denied the fact she had beautiful eyes, because she didn't't feel the force of beauty fulfill her, but I did. Everything she did was memorizing, from the way she read her books, legs curled up underneath her in efforts to keep her tiny toes warm, and the way her head flopped down on to the whichevercushion she used whenever she read the books that gave her the emotions that a book should, but yet no matter what position or where she was, with make up or without, she was the most beautiful person I was lucky enough to love.