He held me close. Threatening to hold me there forever. But I wasn't complaining. I could hear his heart beating. His heart. I hope that I had it for my very own. His arms strong and welcoming. I love the way he wraps his arms around me gently nuzzeling my breasts. My heart flutters everytime I look at him. That one slight glance thrusts me into all our memories. All his suculant kisses. His warm lips making my mouth melt. At those moments I let him have my heart knowing that he could never hurt me. All those hot summer nights. The crisp air making my nose a light pink as fire flies dace over our bodies like like floating lanterns caressing the darkness. The days before the accident. The days when I had him. The days i wished would never end. But time was wiethering away along with what was left of him. That gorgeous man and those sweet brown eyes. All those cheesy punchlines that i couldn't get enough of. Why could such a person die so young? Be taken away one day. That day was so nice. The last day of the summer months. Of course he had to take the bike out. He loved bikes and i loved him and how his face lit up when he knew that he could go out and ride his bike. He could be out all day, the strong wind blowing through his hair. The sun glisting on his face. The michevous smile that crept into his smile. He enjoyed his bikes and i guess liked them too. But now i cant stand the sight of them. They toke him ad along with him they toke my heart. Smashing it just like his skull. I wish i knew what exactly happened to him. But i dont. I just remember sitting on the porch of our little beach house. Drinking my coffee and reading a magazine. Oddly enough i was reading one of his harley davidsons. We never got visitors that alarmed me he was late but that didnt bring me worry. As ii opened the door i didnt know what to expect. I saw the officer. But more then that i sawthe helmet. All the little mickey mouse stickers scrapped off. He had always hatedthem but wouldnt take it off because he knew that it amused me. I had to sitdown, this had to be a dream. A dream gone bad. All those tears. He was found dead on the scene. sevre injuries to the skull. The funeral was small. That night i slepton his grave and the next nights to follow. Sleeping on his pillow snuggling his helmet. Imissed him. i missed his smile, and most of all i missed mine. i couldnnt sleep in the house. i sat thereon his grave and told him all the news everything that was happening in my life. i always told him things about our little girl. Yes little girl. Cleo. She reminded me of him, she had his eyes. I wish that she didnt find me constantly wandering around by his grave. She always thought it odd that i neveronce had sleptin the house. Instead i slepton his grave. His grave was in our backyard, it our green house to be exact. i built a green house over his grave. i planted all the flowers types that he had ever bought me. I never moved on. yeti guess i never said goodbye. i grew old on his grave. how could i forget him my family was kiled in a fire when i was 16 he swept me off saving me from my pain. Now 70 on my death bed im glad to finally be able to see him again. His spirit came to get me once again. this is what i waited for my whole life and i was happy that he didnt miss a thing because he was there when i told him everything. smilig at all the stories i toldhim. she was found on his grave sleeping on his pillow nuzzling his helmet like she had done her whole life. waiting for the day that she could see her love once again. she waited......... and that day was bitter sweet.
© Copyright 2016 shyleana. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Poetry
Short Story / Poetry
Short Story / True Confessions
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