So it turns out that I wear the hell out of a red dress. Here is my first shot at it based upon the writing prompt they gave this week and a 600 word limit. If you like this post feel free to sift through Fragments of Fiction.
I could never have imagined that one day I would wake up and not have you by my side. It still seems improbable, inconceivable and simply unbelievable.Â This canâ€™t be real because the Greek tragedies arenâ€™t true stories. They are myths and tales that are man made- not reality.
Yet, here we are living life alone and apart. Separate homes and separate lives. You were the guardian of all my secrets and the woman that I allowed to walk unfettered and unencumbered through my heart. I had every opportunity to treat you like a piece of meat but I didnâ€™t.
It wasnâ€™t because you prevented me from doing so. You gave yourself so willingly to me that I knew I could ask you to do anything and you would. It was part of the magic of our bond. Sometimes I think that you were offended that I didnâ€™t take advantage of the situation. Sometimes I think that you were offended that I didnâ€™t take every moment to ravish your body.
That didnâ€™t happen because I have never seen a woman who is more beautiful than you are. I have never been closer or more intimate with anyone than I was with you. You know this because I told you so but I would like to tell you again. Â Not by phone, text, email or IM but in person.
The things we did and the experiences we had were real. They were magical and mysterious. They had a depth and purpose that cannot be properly expressed through words alone.
You are the song of my heart. Even now so long after we parted I still hear your melody being played in places too deep to ignore. I can still feel your touch and taste your lips. Your scent is not forgotten nor have I forgotten the grace with which you move.
Remember how I used to stare at you and how I enjoyed just listening to you breathe. Sometimes you would shy away from my look and tell me that I was too intense but you always said it with a smile.
There are so many stories that I could tell and so many memories that I could share with you. I still canâ€™t believe that I have started listening to some of those Barry Manilow songs you used to talk about. Remember how I teased you about his elevator music and said that thirty somethings werenâ€™t old enough to listen to him. You rolled your eyes at me and accused me of having no taste.
Now I find myself quoting his songs and wondering if maybe they foretell a future that is yet unwritten. When he sings about finding the right love at the wrong time I nod my head in frustration and ask why us. When he talks about walks down long rocky beaches and starting a story whose end will have to wait I smile.
Yes, I admit it. I smile because it gives me hope that maybe weâ€™ll find our way back to each other. But sometimes I donâ€™t let that hope inside my head or my heart. Sometimes I stuff it back down into the cage it came from and think of reasons to be angry with you. That anger helps to hide the sadness and makes me forget how much I miss you.
I am just a boy asking a girl for the chance to hold her hand again because I canâ€™t imagine not having you in my life. Iâ€™m just a man who remembers a time when he kissed a woman and then the whole world shifted.