The Swing

The Swing

My words are the truth, I swear. Right now my words will spin for you a tale of a young man- no just a grown boy who unknowingly gave his existence to a girl. You may hear this and think the boy a fool but I feel it’s my duty to inform you that any normal girl, she was not! She was the ying to his yang and the tear from his eye.
The exact second his sight was filled with her presence he had been doomed. A hole that had never been known was filled. She was his siren. He felt the edge of the rocks coking and yet plunged forward.
I remember the swing and swaying to and fro in the sun, by her side of course. The motion was so carefully careless. How about a second chance? You never get them when you really need them, do you? Who could have guessed that a rickety, old swing could hold such a painfully cherishable light?
The light dies in the dark night- no, it just burns for another. I have been left without a beacon to guide me. Years have passed and I wonder blindly forward. From my tearing eyes to my empty soul, I remember. I can recall her leaving me to swing alone. That dam swing! The man has reluctantly walked away yet the boy lingers as he waits for her still, fulfilling his oath of love ever-lasting.
A dream! Of course! I shall wake any moment casting a long and playful shadow from the warm glow known to me only as: “her.” Many of this vast planets people have named this this being in their own little worlds but I know only her and therefore know only my loss.
The world holds many marvelous wonders and beauty but the boys’ interest is set. If he sees beauty it is radiated from her presence. That swing. It all goes back to that ill-fated swing, and my first kiss that I managed to steal. It makes a rather lovely “once upon a time” but a horrid “happily ever after.
You foolish boy. Cut your losses and run. My head plays with logic. My heart pumps love and hope through my veins. I remember. Dam that swing to someone else’s hell.
Were the promises of love simply candy-coated poison? How could it have been love? Love lifts you up. Love is a glory beyond the ability of man to explain. I remember love and swinging back and forth filled to the brim with it. Well, you may call it love. I am leaning more toward torture!
I recall the long and lonely walk down a dark gravel road. Alone I walk. I drag my heavy feet over the gravel and the sound is soothing. Did I love to hate her or hate to love her? Alone I walk. There is moisture in the air and it masks my tears but makes the going slow. Alone I walk. Strangers offer a ride and I say no. I’d rather walk alone in my pool of self-pity.
She won’t come this time. She no longer will sit beside me on our swinging bench. Alone I walk, and alone I swing. I now have only the torture of remembering lost bliss. Her eyes seeing me as no other can. Her hair gliding so softly between my fingers. Nothing gotten and everything lost. If a memory is all I’m left with then let the man and the boy share this cherished treasure…
Me and her entwined under the stars. Alone in an empty patch of grass that was ours for the moment. Both pretending to have found sleep. I whisper an oath to fill her life with love. The man and the boy, we promise to love her forever. I did, I have, I do, I will.