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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1587507-Pretty-Red-Leaves
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by Rose Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1587507
Love is blind, yes. Blind to how it leaves us when it's left.
I don’t remember how I got here but I know I like it. We’re in a field and the trees are bursting with their best fall colors. Picking up a leaf that held a bright red color, I show her and she is delighted.
“Oh how pretty!” She gushes as she takes it from me. Folding it neatly into her wallet she puts it in her back pocket.
I know I blush as she takes my hand in hers, hers far colder but soft and gentle. We talk of nothing because what subject could really matter when we’re both so lost in this happiness?
The sun begins to set on us, silly orb knowing that she can light my day better than it could ever hope to try. But in its absence she grows a bit chilled, the autumn air only holding its warm breeze in sunlight. But neither of us bother considering that we should head back, that would be a waste of an evening, so I slip off my sweater without a sound and wrap it around her. She looks cute in gray even though she doesn’t like it.
We come to a ridge overlooking the field we were just in with a glorious view of the stars and she sits down, pulling me down beside her. Leaning into me, I can’t see her face but I know almost certainly that she’s smiling. I wrap my arms around her.
She whispers, as if not to disturb the peace and pure zen that surrounds us, that she loves me. Was I growing a bit cold before that? It matters not, I’m filled with a warmth I’d never known before her.
I hold her close to me, my only wish to never let her go. I’m struck, however, by the fact that I must. With an almost inhuman certainty I know that our time is painfully finite. I don’t know why but I cry soundlessly, silent tears finding their ways over my cheeks to sprinkle her gorgeous blonde hair. “I love you too, Mari.” It will only come as a whisper.
She can tell there’s something wrong in my voice; that I’m upset so she leans away slightly to look me in the eye. And as her blue eyes meet mine I know what’s wrong. Only in my dreams would things feel so perfect. The world won’t let us be like this.
I have to tell her however I can, even if it’s only a dream, “I’ll always love you Mari. Please never forget that.”
I can feel reality coming back as she becomes less and less subsistent in my arms.
I wake alone, tears covering my face, with nothing but the music I’m listening to for company.
The snow outside spins happily, mocking me. It’s covered over all of our bright red leaves.
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