This is my first fictional piece, so go easy on me February 14th 2011.
1:00 am, undisclosed location
Its raining. Cold hard pouring rain. The type of rain that expresses in detail just a fraction of what I feel inside. The tears are right on the edge but they’re not falling, just misting my eyes over and over and over. I’m not numb, I’m not sad. I’m just, still, right on the edge of a precipice, a sharp drop very far off the ground. Its my heart and its right on that edge, one slight shift, and it would crumble and most likely kill me. My phone vibrates beside me, and I see a message from my twin sister, Nadia. It vibrates again and a deep dark rumble permeates the atmosphere and my heart. If this is heartbreak, I’m enduring the worst of it.
I’m laying on my bed, legs sprawled out hand crossed over my chest, almost as if, they’re protecting my heart from more damage than has already been done. My eyes continue their rounds of misting over and drying up. My breaths are slow and very silent, almost non-existent. The only sound is that of the rain and occasional thunderclaps. The only motion made is my phone moving about in response to vibration. There’s the taste of blood on my tongue. His blood, my blood.
…now the tears start flowing…
48 hours earlier…
(deep breath). I can safely say, I’ve never felt more in the right place at the right time..or in my case, enclosed in the right arms of him. Oh God, thinking oh him just makes me think of events of the past hours gone by, and that in turn makes me red, well colorless actually(black people don’t blush outside their stomach lining) and somehow I find myself reaching for him and wanting to do things I would never have dreamt of in a million years. It’s my almost-perfect time. Perfect, but for one minor detail…we’re both hungry…lets get this show on the road again shall we? *giggles*.
2 hours and one plate of Caesar salad and chicken later…
Yeah, you guessed right, I gave it to him last night and it was wonderful. Its funny cuz Valentine’s day was only 48 hours away, but being the delightful package of weirdness I was, I decided to make it three days before valentine’s day. I’m not the most romantic or conventional person so Valentine’s day didn’t mean half of what it meant to other girls. It did mean something though. It meant spending time… whole day with him. I wasn’t the most accessible person and neither was he, so it was a rare gift that we found each other, understood our selves and made us work. I think I’m in love with him. I’m gonna call him and tell him. Yeah, I’ve got quite the idea. I’ll just blurt it out you know, like a cough or a sneeze or one of those things. Yeah, I’m gonna make it as cheesy-free as possible. Oh geez, I feel laughter rising. I’m in love people, I’m IN LOVE!!
24 hours to Valentine’s day…
I’m gonna tell him. God I’m so nervous. Okay babe, calm down. I run straight into his apartment…and I see, oh God I see, I see…
…“deuces” is all I can remember saying…
2 hours and one bag of drip later…
It hits me, it hits me. Oh God, I can’t breathe, I can’t move. I’m checked out of the hospital.
22 hours to Valentine’s day, home seated on carpet…
My playlist includes, Mandy Moore’s “cry”, Keri Hilson’s “toy soldier”, Madonna’s “frozen”, Daughtry’s “home”, Beyonce’s “save the hero”, Sara Bareilles “breathe again” and some guitar and piano stuff. No Taylor Swift though. Just so we’re clear.
He was, with her sprawled across the table, yelling obscenities, calling out that he loved her. She was gorgeous, tall, big boobs and gorgeous hair(fake or real). She was moaning. I stood there, a full four minutes and 4 seconds in which I took a minute to walk towards them and touch him, look into his eyes to see if it was him, the man I just gave my heart too. I can’t cry. I can’t move. I’m like a still outstanding work of art, painted smack in the middle of life at its most joyous and active. There’s a knock
…he’s here…
to be continued...
1:00 am, undisclosed location
Its raining. Cold hard pouring rain. The type of rain that expresses in detail just a fraction of what I feel inside. The tears are right on the edge but they’re not falling, just misting my eyes over and over and over. I’m not numb, I’m not sad. I’m just, still, right on the edge of a precipice, a sharp drop very far off the ground. Its my heart and its right on that edge, one slight shift, and it would crumble and most likely kill me. My phone vibrates beside me, and I see a message from my twin sister, Nadia. It vibrates again and a deep dark rumble permeates the atmosphere and my heart. If this is heartbreak, I’m enduring the worst of it.
I’m laying on my bed, legs sprawled out hand crossed over my chest, almost as if, they’re protecting my heart from more damage than has already been done. My eyes continue their rounds of misting over and drying up. My breaths are slow and very silent, almost non-existent. The only sound is that of the rain and occasional thunderclaps. The only motion made is my phone moving about in response to vibration. There’s the taste of blood on my tongue. His blood, my blood.
…now the tears start flowing…
48 hours earlier…
(deep breath). I can safely say, I’ve never felt more in the right place at the right time..or in my case, enclosed in the right arms of him. Oh God, thinking oh him just makes me think of events of the past hours gone by, and that in turn makes me red, well colorless actually(black people don’t blush outside their stomach lining) and somehow I find myself reaching for him and wanting to do things I would never have dreamt of in a million years. It’s my almost-perfect time. Perfect, but for one minor detail…we’re both hungry…lets get this show on the road again shall we? *giggles*.
2 hours and one plate of Caesar salad and chicken later…
Yeah, you guessed right, I gave it to him last night and it was wonderful. Its funny cuz Valentine’s day was only 48 hours away, but being the delightful package of weirdness I was, I decided to make it three days before valentine’s day. I’m not the most romantic or conventional person so Valentine’s day didn’t mean half of what it meant to other girls. It did mean something though. It meant spending time… whole day with him. I wasn’t the most accessible person and neither was he, so it was a rare gift that we found each other, understood our selves and made us work. I think I’m in love with him. I’m gonna call him and tell him. Yeah, I’ve got quite the idea. I’ll just blurt it out you know, like a cough or a sneeze or one of those things. Yeah, I’m gonna make it as cheesy-free as possible. Oh geez, I feel laughter rising. I’m in love people, I’m IN LOVE!!
24 hours to Valentine’s day…
I’m gonna tell him. God I’m so nervous. Okay babe, calm down. I run straight into his apartment…and I see, oh God I see, I see…
…“deuces” is all I can remember saying…
2 hours and one bag of drip later…
It hits me, it hits me. Oh God, I can’t breathe, I can’t move. I’m checked out of the hospital.
22 hours to Valentine’s day, home seated on carpet…
My playlist includes, Mandy Moore’s “cry”, Keri Hilson’s “toy soldier”, Madonna’s “frozen”, Daughtry’s “home”, Beyonce’s “save the hero”, Sara Bareilles “breathe again” and some guitar and piano stuff. No Taylor Swift though. Just so we’re clear.
He was, with her sprawled across the table, yelling obscenities, calling out that he loved her. She was gorgeous, tall, big boobs and gorgeous hair(fake or real). She was moaning. I stood there, a full four minutes and 4 seconds in which I took a minute to walk towards them and touch him, look into his eyes to see if it was him, the man I just gave my heart too. I can’t cry. I can’t move. I’m like a still outstanding work of art, painted smack in the middle of life at its most joyous and active. There’s a knock
…he’s here…
to be continued...
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