\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/612443-My-love
Item Icon
Rated: 18+ · Novella · Romance/Love · #612443
A story I wrote in a depressive mood, feel free to tell me what you think
"I stare at your beautiful body,
Asleep in my bed,
I watch you breathe,
and wonder what's in your eyes,
In a perfect world,
I could wake you with a kiss,
In a perfect world,
I'd be asleep right next to you,
But it isn't,
The world is made for torment,
In a perfect world,
You'd love me,
It's not,
So,
I'm stuck lonely,
In a perfect world,
Where I could wake you with a kiss..."
Kyle sings in apparent sorrow, his guitar gently playing a minor key melody. There's a twelve second silence, then he begins playing another tormented memory, his mind slips back into the past, "And how do you think I feel? Watchin' time slip away..."
Kyle was almost a man, yet, just a mere seventeen. He had found everything he wanted, all bundled up into a sixteen year old girl, named oh so simply, Jane. Her parents were divorced, as were his. She absolutely adored musicians, and he was on the right track for that. She thought he was cute, he found her down right beautiful. They perfectly complemented each other. She made him happy, for a change, and he made her be herself.
"Now, I feel the need to do a cover song, so here goes..." He plays the opening f#... "Same four walls..." Off again to that place, the place that was happy, long, long ago. Months later, there they are, lying together in bed, the perfect couple. He slips the ring on her finger, the silent nod of approval, kisses. "And I feel the shit..." Deeper it goes, there they are in the park, sitting together, a man asks if he can take their picture, how cute they are. Beautiful she is. "...Same four walls."
"I'd forgotten the taste you hold deep within, I'd forgotten all that we'd been, when we began, I'd forgotten all you ever were... " On cries his guitar, the mellow enchantment of the whole thing, a club atmosphere with a stadium feel, like depressed Hendrix, only able to muster minor-key melodies, that's what Kyle felt like. He plays on, and back down closer to reality his mind drips, there he is making love to Jane. Her hair flung all over the pillow, soft moans escaping her mouth ever so slightly. You can see the love in her eyes, though not really for him.
"Down, and gone, far away, and dissipated, down, and gone, never, never... " Oh closer to the painful truth herein. Kyle's mind slips to their wedding day, a beautiful gown, silky, smooth. Kyle looked just fantastic in his tuxedo, it's amazing he could afford such luxuries, just a wee college student. 19 is a sonuvabitch, two years is quite a long time. Oh how beautiful, the reception, his parents didn't even fight, oh rapture! And both her parents came, and smiled though they disdained him so, they allowed their little girl all her freedoms.
"I thought I'd be full with you, stuck together, forever, but you can't take the truth... " Closer, only a year away now, Jane introduces him to Frank, oh the joys of working... And copy rooms... Seemed nice enough, oh how he should have known, the lights shined not for him any longer.
"I can't see your eyes in the dark anymore, you'd gone so far from home..." Closer ever more, closer... Only 6 months now, to pick Jane up from work. Oh late she is... 5 minutes... 6 minutes... 10 minutes... 15 minutes... So into her office he goes... Listens to silence on floor one, rides the elevator... Ding, ding, ding... Floor number four, Jane's home away from home. He walks forward, takes a right hand turn, and looks straight into something he didn't want to see. Jane and Frank fucking right there, unprotected even! She wouldn't let him near her without a condom, even though she was on the pill. They must have heard his heart rip into a million pieces, because they stopped. No, no you can't explain, Kyle cried for the first time in his life. After he could talk Kyle quit crying, he didn't cry when his father beat him, he didn't cry when his babysitter molested him, no he didn't cry when his parents got a divorce, oh no, but this here was a moment to cry. He just dropped to his knees and the tears flowed. Oh how he wished it to be blood, and not a saline falicy, he wanted to just die there.
"I'm so alone, even when people..." Oh, you can see the tears welling up in Kyle's eyes on stage. He holds them down best the best he can, the people in the third row back can't tell. On he plays. Remembers back three weeks. He'd gotten back with Jane, though no one really knows why. She said she loved him and she held the keys to his heart. So of course he was going to go back! And that's when all of it came to a crashing end. Oh, Frank loved Jane, or so he thought... If love is what Kyle believed it to be, then, no Frank didn't love Jane. But dumb lucked Kyle, goes off to his morning classes and to work, gets home at 10:30 pm. Puts the key in the lock, and opens the door to a rank smell. Oh well... What the fuck is that, first thing that pops into his mind.
"I can still see it, and smell it in my mind..." Oh, the joys, he looks down to see his wife, they didn't get a divorce, laying on the ground with a pool of blood wrapping around her head, and a dried streak of 1/2 an inch worth of blood protruding down her cheek. There is Frank, with his brain all over the wall facing the entry way. He fell to his knees and cried for the second time. He'd forgotten the feel of that demon re-entering his heart. You'd think that with all the time he lived with it there, that he'd be used to the pain and anguish, but alas, happiness just leads to more pain. Fuck happiness.
The memory of his love and her smear of dysfunction, the smells, and the look on Frank's face will be forever etched into the shadowy depths of his mind. The police just made it all feel worse. He felt that even though Frank had a shotgun still lodged in his throat and powder burns on his hand, that he was a suspect. One officer, Jameson, a medium build African American, even made the comment to his partner under his breath that Frank looked like a gay prostitute choking down a cock. Well that faggot stole his soul mate, his love, his goddess, his everything. Gone in a 23 cent piece of plastic and lead. All fucked up by utter stupidity.
"Like a dead rose, you used to bloom... " The bass drum and bass guitar are heavily heard in the background of this song. Kyle plays a whole note every measure, just a power chord, just a lowly F#5. There he is just a few hours ago, staring at her grave. The song ends, the set is over. He unplugs his amp, puts his guitar in it's case, and picks up all his gear. He finishes, loads his amp into his Chevy S-10 truck. He starts his truck about to go join his Jane. Now I must decide whether or not to...


© Copyright 2003 josh howard (joshhoward at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/612443-My-love