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Don't Know Why I Didn't Come.

Short story By: OverdosedByBooks
Romance



A flashback on a lady's past romance and how she dreads ever letting go of it.


For the Challenge 'A Picture's Worth A Thousand Words'


Submitted:Mar 5, 2012    Reads: 57    Comments: 2    Likes: 2   


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Being as old as I am, I hardly remember much as it is. See, my last years I know will be spent in this rocking chair looking beyond my living room window and watching as the little children run and play with no cares about the world ahead of them. I used to be like that. Intrigued about every little thing the world had to offer; look at me now. I'm a lazy old woman who sits in this big house only wishing I had someone dear too share it with.

I cannot perjure myself though, once upon a time love had swept passed me while I was busy working with my career. Oh, how foolish I was to ever let him get away. That's the beauty of a young one's mind though. I had to make money before I had plans messing around with some hoodlum of a boy.

He was unlike any other guy I had ever seen tall and fine-looking, generous and abundant. Hardworking and dedicated, oh how I loved how much he used to enjoy doing what he did best. Drawing.

In fact that's exactly how I met him, he was the fine fellow sitting in that art room painting some oddly looking woman who was quite beautiful in the eyes of a artist. I was aroused by the delicate way he held his brush and how so much talent escaped from the tip when he pointed it unto a piece of paper.

Back then I was that conceited young lady who every man would fall head over heels for. I wore my hair curly and my mascara thick, my lips bright red and chin always held up high; too high.

"Excuse me?" I asked as I pressed my long blue fingernails on the tip of his shoulder, his head whirled around with peck of paint on his left cheek. His face brighten when he looked at me, aroused by my beauty, "May I ask, what is this you are printing on that paper."

He held up his brush with red paint on it, a smile spreading across his muscular and mannish face."Why this is just concoction I have worked together to spare my boredom. May I ask why you ask?"

"I don't know if you are thinking of selling, but I will gladly buy this from you, how about one thousand?"

He chuckled lightly and a frown plastered on my face. "I will sell it too you only if you agree to let me escort you to dinner tonight, my treat." He grasped my hand and kissed it softly, his lips sending chills through my body.

"Alright." I agreed while gently pulling my hand back.

I knew what I had intended to do before I even thought of doing it. I would never in a million years actually let some guy escort me to dinner in the mid of my career. I was progressing to becoming a supermodel, not some old maid with seven kids.

So they night drew in and we was waiting at the local café shop while I was at home sipping on a glass of wine. He sat there and later called me back and I had told him that I was busy and probably next week would be better.

So he waited and waited thinking I would show up but I never anticipated on it. Next week came, and so did the next and still he sit there lonely and yearning for answers. It came to the point he gave up, he knew I was never coming and so he left me alone.

I knew he was angry with me because the following day he didn't even speak to me when I walked passed his class. In fact he cursed my name over and over again and didn't bother to ask me for an explanation. Do you think that I cared even the least bit?

Then the unthinkable happened, my career was on a thin line. No one wanted me, my weight had begun to increase and my age started to settle on my face. I was on the brink of giving up. One night, I shared a glass of wine with me, myself, and I and thought about my life, all the wrongs I had done. And one was letting go of that nice handsome fellow who I knew was interested me. Not just for the money I would make modeling, but I think he actually saw something in me. Something I couldn't even see in myself.

It's weird because I hadn't known him for a long time, yet somehow I just knew he wasn't one of those gold digging men who only wanted to be included in my fame. Then it hit me and I realized it was time to change my life for the better.

I got a job; a real one and started my own business. I finally worked up the courage to call him and when I did I told him everything. How I never intended on going and how I set him up. I asked him if I could make up for it one day and he approved. We were supposed to meet that night at that café we were originally supposed to meet at.

It was dark and gloomy; I sat outside the huge umbrella covering my head. I reapplied my red lipstick, and fluffed my blonde curls and sat there and waited. I just knew he was coming, he forgave me right? I mean I was young and foolish back then he'd see past that.

I was dead wrong. I sat there for three hours waiting on him but he never came. I guess I deserved it though, I mean I had it coming. I should've never lead him on and then break his heart in the process. I never intended on it, but god I never intended on doing anything do I? Sometimes, it makes me wonder why I didn't come.





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