Sure — logical, clean order has its virtues. So does a bit of chaos, though (every once in a while). Instead of starting at your story’s Big Bang, drop us off right at the End of Time: the final line of a conversation, the last, dramatic moment of a journey, the messy aftermath of a wild night out. Then, devote the rest of your post to showing us how you got there.
This was the topic for the weekly writing challenge back in early September 2013 originally posted on Tranquil Dreams. Here it goes….
No guilt trips, no more manipulation, no more hard feelings, no more accusations, this was the only way out to free ourselves. It was time to let go. Tears rolled down my face as I fell into his arms and whispered in his ear, “We have to end this…”
A chat. A meeting. I can’t really remember how it all started anymore. Things moved so quickly. Love at first sight maybe? But it wasn’t love at first. Attraction. We unexpectedly had our first kiss. Everything after that was a blur. A magical blur that encompassed all the good two people could ever feel. A lustful connection perhaps. A desire that was met. Loneliness left us. Whatever the reason, it was bliss: Feel completely accepted and wanted, Passionate kisses. Never wanting to leave each other and it was never quite enough.
For a while, nothing mattered anymore. My true nature refused to be hidden and the question came out: What was I to him? We both knew that this question would have to have an answer. We knew the risks involved and what this would mean. Was it even worth it? As much as my heart throbbed that the logical choice was to walk away, somehow it felt weak to do that. I can still remember the uncontrollable smile and the warmth that filled my heart as he slyly acknowledged who I was to him.
As the months flew by, love, loss, happiness, sadness and so many firsts were experienced together. In a flash, It was time to leave. We both believed it would work. Every part of us knew that. That summer we would go our separate ways and experience what we had to planned for ourselves. Distance would be nothing. We were stronger than that.
As the distance grew, there was no stopping the unavoidable. We believed wrong. Caring words turned into misunderstood control, questions turned into mistrust. The scarce amount of time together talking was not for catching up anymore but turned into more tears, more arguments and even more accusations. Doubts arose and fear came by, could we ever mend this? Would we be the way we are if we were to be together again? What did this mean? So many questions that were so hard to answer.
Seeing him at the gates as he walked out looking for me, fear and confusion grew. I knew this moment would be short-lived, but I realized how much I wanted to be in his arms again. The comfort and joy that we felt turned into my fear as we went on our way home. Spending time together was like we had never left each other. The aching question still subconsciously invaded my thoughts: Will it work after being separated again?
Days later, as I walked down the stairs and saw him sitting at the foot of the stairs in thought, I stopped. I felt our love fill my heart as memories of the first few months together turned him into my best friend. As it followed through, my heart started aching as I thought of the accusations, manipulations, especially the tears. Tears that had turned from missing someone to being hurt by that same person. I could see the same thing rolling forward in a few days, maybe a few weeks. I didn’t want to lose my best friend. I wanted to remember him and for him to remember me before things got out of control.
There was no other way. This was the choice I had to make. One I fully believed that fate would eventually bring us together in time..perhaps. A comforting thought nonetheless as I moved towards him and watched him stand up and turn around to face me. My heart felt like someone was twisting it as I got closer and fell into his arms.