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Why These are My Last Breaths

Short story By: Aerolin
Romance



Dear Love,
When all is lost, what is left to live for? I write you this letter, though I know your grave prevents you to read it, to describe to you why these are my last breaths.


Submitted:Mar 17, 2010    Reads: 80    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Dear Love,

When all is lost, what is left to live for? I write you this letter, though I know your grave prevents you to read it, to describe to you why these are my last breaths.

The day we wed was the happiest time of my life. You were my all, my everything, and it made my heart swell when you uttered that you loved me. Things were perfect, I took my job as an author and you took yours as a teacher. Through the few years, I noticed your smile fade so gradually. Even when you laughed, sadness shone in your eyes.

Then one night, I returned home to a dreary looking house. You were supposed to be there! But you left me; you gave up. The note on our bed made me cry for so many nights and days. It seemed as though the sun never rose again. Summer nights aren't meant to be spent alone.

Three words scrawled so neatly from the hand that rests before me in this grave. Every night I would stand at the bridge's edge thinking of how you were once here. Your laugh, your smile, your tears would haunt me.

I no longer had a purpose; I was nothing. My mother was my last relative, and we weren't on agreeing terms, but I stilled loved her.

So I left. I left you behind with a swallow of sadness and a tank full of gasoline. Country roads and fields passed me by though I didn't see them. As I drove those empty roads, my mind traveled to my brother and father who basically killed each other in a futile fight.

My mother's house was the same and always unchanging. The grass in the front yard was overgrown. It flowed in waves like a peaceful ocean. Apple trees hung bright fruit from their outstretching arms.

It took us hours to have a clean conversation. She explained to me that, in her old age, she only had days left. For the first time, in what seemed like forever, I laughed and enjoyed my life. She made me feel whole again. "There's always a calm after the storm," she would tell me.

Twice have I been to a grave yard, and again I will return, but I won't be watching. She died. And I couldn't take it. Home is where I appeared.

Home held too many memories of you. Each picture, they couldn't compare to your beauty! Every wall, each door, they had an essence of you. You were taking my heart and squeezing it tighter and tighter! My sobs choked me. My tears still stain this letter.

As I stood on the edge again, the mysterious waters below looked so inviting. My will power is thin, but stronger then.

Alone. So much time alone. The space gave me room to think. Why do I live on? I lived for you, and for Mother; I lived to love. And now… There's nothing left to love. So I pray to any God that listens, that Hell is not where I shall reside. I leave these three words: I Love You, as my fingers tremble on the handle. I breathe my last breaths and bid a farewell. When all has left you behind, where do you go?

And I pull the trigger.





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