April

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 05, 2018

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Submitted: September 05, 2018

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April
By Lindsey A. Bryant

I didn't believe in meaning until I met April. Nihilism suited me well and I was comfortable wearing it. 
Everyone was bogged down in the marshes of religious holidays, mandatory Sunday's, and irreversible guilt. I felt free believing that nothing happened for a reason, living without fear.

Then...
April...

It was a cold and damp day. The kind when autumn is still fighting winter. The old town coffee shop lured me in like it did every Monday. I loved reading there and must admit I was a smidge hung over from the previous night. The smells and colors of that cherry wood shop were intoxicating to me. A mix of patchouli, old books, and coffee. I was a creature of routine and settled in my usual spot-sunken worn leather chair closest to the book shelves. I liked people watching there. My comfortable spot allowed me the privilege of viewing every person in the place. 

I had just pulled The Dust of Our Planet from the book shelf and found the turned corner of my last reading when April walked through the door. 

Her clothes were more of a poem than an outfit. The textures and tea stained colors made her appear as appealing as the gold leafed, hundred year old books on the shelves next to me. I felt hungry to pull her close to my body and see if she smelled as good as she looked. Smell if she was as appealing as the aroma of the worn books.

By the time I broke away from my thoughts, she was looking at me. Side smirking over her cup of coffee and amused. I was utterly embarrassed at how long I must have been staring at her for. She looked no stranger to gawking men with that look on her face and she wasn't even disgusted. I hated feeling like I was one of "those" guys when I'd worked my whole life not to be the typical asshole that most men my age were. 

She walked over to me and outstretched her hand.
"I'm April. By the looks of it, you were interested in talking so I thought I'd cut to the chase and introduce myself."

The next three hours passed inexplicably fast. We emerged into effortless conversation. We have been inseparable ever since.

I've never met anyone like her to this day. 

I will try to explain her to you the only way I know how while knowing my frail attempt at words could never do her justice.

She is warm and the sincerity I see in her towards other people's struggle is unparalleled. She bleeds for them. She is a pillar of strength for those who need.

The wisdom, hunger, and passion in her eyes cannot be explained by living just one lifetime. I'm convinced she's lived at least ten. Her insatiable needs prompted by the cutting off of past lives from unavoidable perils of those eras. Only to compound and reawaken with the consciousness of her present existence. She wants it now. She gets what she wants because she takes it.

She's regal and poised in her movement. I read her body. It tells me a story that someone of our current day could not write. It's as though royal blue pumps through those veins of hers. I see them giving life to her alabaster skin that I long to constantly run my fingers over. She is tall and long. I want to run my hands down her.

I cannot explain the way she never grows tired and seems invincible some days. It's an ebb and flow like the tide. Other times I see the weight of her vast consciousness holding her down like a rock at the bottom of the ocean. Her eyes are just as deep. They burn me up then drown me.

She is a delightful abyss to which my love never finds an end. The ways I need her. They are consuming and consistent. She is as beautiful in the flesh as her soul is beautiful in endless layers of meaning. I believed in nothing. Because she lives, I believe. She brings me closer to a higher power I once mocked and denied.

She rises inside of me when we are apart in the scenery. I see her in everything. The beauty in nature raises my heart to my throat. I hold back choking on tears. I realize my lover's beauty is contained in all things. My heart chokes me in that moment because I realize...

That if the day comes that I exist and she is gone,
I will wrap my heart in the lovely,
tea stained colored,
layers of her memories,
And drown it out at sea.

 


© Copyright 2018 Lindsey A. Bryant. All rights reserved.

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