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One Last Kiss

You Write Such Pretty Words

The others have all gone away. It’s only me, and it’s only him. Ice covers the trunks of the magnificent oaks just steps away, their branches just feet above us. Snow coats the pine needles of evergreens. The swing creaks as it rocks in a bone chilling wind. It’s cold. I can see my breath, and it’s just us. Me and him.

I turn to him, snow shifting off of navy wool, and run my hand through his hair; and I whisper, “Love.”

His eyes close slowly, slowly, hiding those soft blue eyes that I once knew as only mine.

“You taught me that love was something between two people that everyone else could see but no one else could share. You taught me that love bonds two people forever, and they only see each other for the rest of eternity.”

He breathes in through his nose swiftly and I sense that he knows exactly what I’m talking about. He reaches into the pocket of his drover and pulls out a small, beaten notepad and a pen. Opening it to a clean page, he begins writing in an ever-familiar scrawl.

“You write such pretty words,” I say, covering his hand with one of mine, hindering the process, “but life is no storybook. There’s no real Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty. You can’t simply undo mistakes by rewriting the story, James Sullivan. There are no second chances. This is life, James."

He swallows hard and one single tear slides down his face.

“Yes, now you know what it’s like to feel unwanted. You know what it’s like to be unloved,” I stand and turn to him, pulling him up beside me.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for one last kiss.

And I leave.


Comments and critique are always welcome.
Thank you very much for reading.


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