ii.
I rode the bus home, without Jacq. Ever since Sean asked her out, he's been dropping her off in his car.
Freaking rich kid.
Whatever, her parents always loved me more than him, and even to this day, her father would pull me aside, half-joking and half-serious.
"Tsktsk," he'd tut. "Man, look at my little girl, running around with that Sean O'Donnell boy. You had her, Cam, you just never shot! You could've-" and then he'd proceed to gesture with his hands, so much like her I wanted to punch myself.
I started whistling, deciding I needed some time by myself, away from my friends and not seeing her so soon tonight, not seeing her walked to the door by Sean, them kissing so sweetly and - okay, Cameron, let it go, stahp. Damn, now I'm choking.
I settled for tossing my bag onto my patio, and sprinting to the nearest park.
Running has always been my thing. It was actually because of Jacq, but then I went solo ever since Mr. Prince Charming started taking her out regularly.
I sprinted around the lake, where we used to run regularly, I sprinted until the world blurred together and I imagined her face somewhere over the horizon, and then I'm running with all I am, with all my soul because I'm running to her, to the last few rays of sunlight as it died to give life to the night, to the moon.
And I remember that time she told me the saddest, shortest love story.
"You know, Cam," she had began, panting a little from their running. "The saddest, shortest love story is actually one sentence."
"Oh?"
"Yeah."
"Tell it to me then, please."
"Okay," and then, because I could at the time, I laid my head down on her lap and she smiled down at me. She ran her hands through my hair, fingers so gentle, tickling my scalp. I closed my eyes, the last thing I saw was her looking far away, to the dying rays of the sun, then up to the twinkling stars.
"It's how the Sun loved the Moon so much, he died every night to let her breathe."
And I remember how much I loved her then, and how it is dwarfed by how much I love her now.
Her voice when she said that single-line story... I love her voice. She sang to me so many times before, strumming and plucking her guitar in our old tree house, candles illuminating her face, making her look like she belonged up there with the moon and stars.
And I slowed down to a jog, stopping and leaning on a familiar tree.
I realized it was our tree when I felt something beneath my palm.
I lifted it away and kneeled to see it in the dark.
It was a heart.
C.D.
+
J.J.
FOREVER!
