Our Story

AUTHOR'S NOTEEEE:

DEAR DEBBIIIEEEE!! I wrote this for you because I want you to know how I feel about you... like really know what was in my mind. I don't know how else to put it...so I decided to write it in story form..I hope you like it as much as I do.. :)

CHAPTER 1: WORDS

Words. Meaningless words. That’s all I could think of when I tried to think of what to say for her. The one that mattered most to me in the whole world, but nothing I said would ever be good enough. Nothing I would say could ever fill in the void I have in my heart. I give up and throw all those stupid, meaningless words away. Shove everything off my desk, and hurry to the bathroom. I quickly strip off these clothes I’ve had on for the past two days. I turn on the shower and jump in even before it has time to heat up. The coldness surprises me, but that’s ok because for once in the past week something actually feels real. I feel as though I’ve been idly walking around, doing the same motions with out my mind even realizing that I’ve been doing it. Because that is the only way the pain goes away. Is if I just don’t think about it. The water seeps through every crevice and wrinkle in my skin. While my mind wanders into happier times. Times when I was younger. A time where things weren’t so complicated. Wishing that times could be like that now. I didn’t even realize the tear that sneaks down my cheek until I hear the desperate sob come out of my throat. I quickly turn off the water and slowly get out. I throw on the same clothes I hurriedly took off before and went to my desk once again. Words. Those stupid, useless meaningless words still taunt me as they lay on the floor. I walk past them and sit on my chair still not sure what I could say, or should say, that would pour out my love. I finally realized that words are not what describes a person’s love. No words could ever describe what I felt. No, words have a limit, but my love didn’t. An idea came to me as I sorted through my thoughts. Us. That’s what I can say. I can tell the story of us. Of course, but it has to be perfect and right. And it has to start from the beginning. With out thinking I pick up many pieces of paper and pencil and begin to write.

Tomorrow came quicker than expected, and I was finally finished with my words. It took me all night and I dozed off at around seven, but it was all worth it. I woke up at around eleven with a kink in my neck. I drowsily lifted my head up from my desk I fell asleep on. Rubbing the back of my neck I got up and headed to my bedroom to get ready. I had to be there at one. My driver should be here in about an hour to pick me up. I picked out a modest black dress and heels. Not too fancy and not too casual. After I finished I walked uncertainly back to my desk and picked up my words. Finally feeling satisfied that they weren’t meaningless. That they really expressed how I felt. I heard a small knock and the twist of the doorknob on my front door. “Hello, miss. It’s time to go.” says Kevin, my personal driver. “I’m coming.” He helps me down to the lobby and out into the car. He starts up the car and pulls out into the open road. I look out the window of my car into the familiar city I know and love so much. Memories threaten to spill out in tears, but instead it comes from my mouth in music. I quietly hum her favorite song while I reminice on the old times. I was interrupted by Kevin telling me we were here. His eyes were locked on me and when I looked into his I saw the pity he felt for me. For the first time in a week this made my stomach feel warm with love and I actually gave him a small smile. But it quickly faded when I realized what we were here to do. I slowly got out of the car with the Kevin’s help and walked into the building. I stopped at the double doors, and took in a deep breath. This is the hardest thing I am ever going to do. I pushed them open and tears came to my eyes at the sight in front of me. The room was full of her family, my family, her friends, my friends, familiar faces, and so much more. What made my heart swell was the seat in the very front reserved just for me. I made my way down the walkway between the people until I felt someone touch me. I looked that way, and a girl we both knew in college looked me in the eyes and said, “She would’ve wanted you in the front.” I nodded once, and tried to tell her through my eyes how grateful I was. Because if I did speak I would probably break down. She seemed to understand because she nodded, let go of me, and faced forward again. I finally made it to my seat, and sat down. The chair was uncomfortable and cold. Kind of how I felt. The man who was speaking came to the front of the room, and began to quote scripture, blessings, sorrow, and condolences to family and friends. Finally, it was time for my speech. I stood. It was so silent you could hear a penny drop. No one dared to move, or talk. It almost seemed like they weren’t even breathing. I made my way up to the podium with the little will power I had left. I faced towards the audience and began to speak my powerful and meaningful words.