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love you whenever [Sep. 15th, 2005|10:37 am]
[mood |jealousjealous]
[music |morrissey]

I didn't know if I could do it, yet I know I had to. It was the best thing to do. It would give her a chance to move on and well, it would make her happy so I would, in turn, be glad with just that. I approached her on that cold, breezy night. "Hello," we greeted each other. It was like I was seeing her for the first time. This is when I knew what love was. When I looked into her eyes and I saw myself reflected in them. I knew that was love. After all these years of saying 'I love you' yet never really knowing. At that moment I knew what that phrase meant. I was able to love her fully that night. I told her everything. I wanted her to be happy, and successful. I told her she was a great person and that one day she would make someone very happy. THREE YEARS! We had been together for three years! It was the most perfect time of my life with her. Then problems arose. She wanted something different. I wanted to just be hers. I thought I was fulfilling my destiny. She, apparently, had not the same idea. We survived the summer when we got back together. Boy, oh, boy, that was a great summer. We had loads of fun, worry-free. But that nagging in the back of her mind remained. She always had that stick poking her and telling her that this isn't what she really wants. Finally, she got tired of it. She took action, and that leads to our inevitable breakup. One week of crying, and begging for her, until I really get my mind straight. So after that week I decide to confront her one last time. I don't want to see her as a friend, and I definitely don't want to see her as anyone else's. And I truly think that is what led me to say the things I said. I don't want her to date anyone else. I can't be a part of her life while she dates another guy. It kills me. So I knew I had to tell her that it had to end here. That's where I am now. Crying on her shoulder. I kissed her wet mouth, wet from my tears, wet from her tears. I kissed her and I cried even more. I had never cried so hysterically in my life. I retracted. I looked into those beautiful eyes. The most beautiful eyes that God could give to a person; she owned them! I saw love there. I saw my love in her. I knew she would be all right. She has my love to help guide her through whatever. And I hope she never forgets that. She is a big girl now and she shouldn't have to rely on me anymore. She will be ok. I know it. I see it. It's me that I'm worried about now. Me. It finally has kicked in. So she'll be fine, but where do I stand? On this road of life that gives us rejections and sympathy, and the most utter happiness. What am I going to do now? I don't see myself with another. I don't see myself ever moving on. Even as I see her tears drying on her face. Even as I say goodbye, knowing she'll be fine. I WON'T! But I have to be the strongest of the two of us. I have to have double the strength because, Lord know, I can't go through another episode like this one. She will be loved by me forever; she will be loved by me wherever I go; she will be loved by me whenever she wants to feel loved. WHENEVER. I will love her until I die. Even then, I will watch her from wherever I stand and I will protect her in whichever way I can. I love her more than anything and she will house my heart for eternity.
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this feeling [Sep. 5th, 2005|05:00 am]
[mood |thankfulthankful]
[music |pete yorn - day I forgot]

I am feeling a bit lonely right now, yet it's only been a day. Well actually more than a day. But not two days yet. I miss the comfort of holding you and making you feel safe. I missed you today at the family gathering and EVERYone was asking for you. It would have been so much more fun with you there. Then I came home and played video games with the guys, they asked for you too, hoping you would come over. That made me a little saddy. But I hope to have you home in the morning or sometime during the day, because I miss you way too much, even though it's only been a little while. It's just the little things that make me want to have you near me, you know? I love you, oh so much. More than yesterday and the day before and so on. And I guarantee you that I will love you more tomorrow and the next day because there is no possible way my days can get worse with you to look forward to each day. They can only get better and better. I'm awaiting your return and a phone call. Hope to see you soon, my love.

Missing you,
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how hard [Jul. 23rd, 2005|12:43 pm]
[mood |crushedcrushed]

it's amazing how you think that somethings are going to turn out one way and then they end up another. the thought of having loss had occured to me again. this time is different, i don't know if i want to cause it. i think i do. it's hard to just think of not having it all over again. pain, knowledge, everything will be absorbed into a little bubble in the front of my mind that will prevent me from doing much all over again. i haven't felt like this for a while now, i haven't had a reason to. but something tells me to keep my guard up. don't let it happen again. its too hard to endure another misconduct. i want to ensure my space on the planet by being what i want to be. not what you want me to be or what they want me to be. i want to be my own person and i want to make sure that i am making the right decisions. i have to think it over a lot because it's not the easiest choice to make, and to make an irrational one will prove myself being ignorant. i am not like that. i think things over, people's feelings are always involved with this sort of dilemma. i have not one regret about anything that has happened in my career, that which life gives me. i think the most enduring emotion is love. but one can only endure the feeling for so long before it makes one crazy. to the point where my eyes have to be open constantly, no sleep, no trust. my guard must remain high. there is no point on looking back at the errors, thought, because they only pain the heart so. yet to learn for further experiences one must recollect those emotions and gain the strength to take over them and to extract the lessons in life which will lead to a better one. one that does not involve the mishaps from the former life. i must keep my head high for now, for later, god only knows if it will lay low for the remainder.
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put on your red shoes and dance the blues [Jul. 6th, 2005|07:43 pm]
[mood |curiouscurious]
[music |coheed and cambria]

It was a cool afternoon. A bunch of the guys and myself decided to drive down to the beach. It's always fun with friends around. We had a fire going and everything. Can you see it now? Nine friends coming together for a good ol' get-together. How nifty is what I thought of it; and nifty it was. There was a lot of throwing the frisbee around. We ate wieners and toasted s'mores. We played board games, yet none seemed the least bit bored. In the water I swam with one fellow companion. Around the fire we sat and laughed and conversed while the others went at it with the frisbee. Burning random objects in a fire is always fun. Taking the pictures taken that day will only help remember the good times. We packed up and were ready to go, until one of us lost our possession. We would not leave without it. Until the night is young we drive off into nothingness. But most of the middle is left out. Most of the people are left out. For we do not return with the same amount of people that came to the beach with us, oh no. The middle part, that which I left out, is something really explicit. So explicit that to put into words would make one's insides become their outsides. Something got to us that night so that while returning on our glorious return home only three were in the car. But while arriving to the beach all was fun and games, who would have guessed that death would visit our campsite that night, fun and games: that's where this story begins.
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conversationalists [Jun. 27th, 2005|02:11 am]
[mood |crazycrazy]
[music |hot hot heat]

Mark: Why can't you write happy endings in your stories?

Sara: Because life doesn't have a happy ending. We die. How happy can that be? Nothing ends in happiness in life. I hope you realize this.

Mark: Of course there is.

Sara: Try naming one happy ending in your life. See what you're not seeing - not understanding, here is that whenever you feel happy and you think it's the end of something it's actually not. It's only a continuation. Like, let's say, when you graduate from high school. You're happy right?

Mark: Yeah, glad to be out of that hellhole.

Sara: Yeah, but it's only a chapter, just like my stories. There is always a continuation. There may be a chapter in my stories where someone doesn't die, or where someone doesn't get their heart broken, but in the end it won't be happy. You're happy because you graduated from high school. Let me emphasize that: HIGH SCHOOL! Ooh, I bet that's the end now, right? WRONG.

Mark: I see where you're going with this, but look at Disney movies. They all have happy endings. Cinderella marries her prince, Simba becomes king, and Nemo and his dad are reunited. Happy endings.

Sara: Of course those are happy endings! What do you expect? Do you expect the writers to actually end a movie with a character dying? No way, Jose. That would scare the crap out of little kids. Those movies are made for small children. They are made to please children and to bring smiles on people's faces. But what happens to Simba? Is he eternal? Does Cinderella not ever have arguments and fights with her prince? Does Nemo not eventually leave his dad because he is old enough and has to live on his own, realizing that his dad is not going to always be there? See Mark, you're such a typical demographic. Disney targets YOU because you'll love their movies. But you have to think about the afterwards, Mark. What happens after the "The End?"

Mark: You're ruining movies for me.

Sara: No, I'm opening you're eyes.

Mark: I think I prefer them closed.

Sara: Stop being such a baby and realize that happy endings are for kids. But when they grow up they'll realize that life isn't fair and that it's tough. We can't expect things to just get done easily. We actually have to work to live a comfortable life. And for what?

Mark: For pleasures. Video games, movies, nice clothes, great food. That's what for.

Sara: No. I'll tell you for what? Just for a downfall. That's what death is. It's everyone's downfall and it's inevitable.

Mark: Now you're depressing me. Let's just go eat.

Sara sighs.
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untitled pt. 2 [Jun. 8th, 2005|01:50 am]
[mood |happyhappy]
[music |The Arcade Fire]

The air felt cold on my skin. I popped up the collar of my long leather jacket. I sneered at the bum to my right as I walked by him. Piece of crap calls himself a person. He should be out trying to find work or something. But that's the least of my worries. "Hey Link, where you off to, hun?" I spun around to see the voice that spoke to me from a short distance. Beautiful, my eyes saw beauty standing before me. "You know me Mae, I'm always trynna stay outta trouble." "Oh yeah, like I'm supposed to believe that one." Her scent I could smell from where I was standing. Peach. Very easy on the nose. Her eyes were fixated on mine so that any minute now she would turn me to stone. "What about you, sweetheart, what brings you here to the slums?" I imposed. "Looking for something." "For what?" I asked out of curiosity, had it been any other person I would have walked away and let them carry on. "Don't worry, I found what I was lookin' for." She meant me. "What can I do ya for, chick?" She responded: "Well ya see, here's the deal. I just shot dead the owner of The Barony Little and well, I gots to get someone to protect me, a big boy like you sure would do the job." The Barony Little was the slum's most appreciated gentlemen's club and to shoot such a character as the owner, Ruffus Franco (mostly known as the Baron), would bring one into a hell of a pickle, which Mae was now in the middle of. "I'm runnin' a car 'bout five blocks down, stick with me and we'll make for Rumbsville in the morning 'cause right now I need a drink." She walked with me to the bar two buildings down. Her hair flowing in the air. Her walk so graceful, no one would pin point her as the killer of the Baron with that flair she walked with. No way in hell. But there were witnesses, oh, those there were plenty. I know it, she knows it. That's why she's runnin'. We entered the bar to find it bursting with sons of bitches with no mums and nothing better to do than sit in a bar waiting for someone to pick a fight with them. These are no better than the bum sitting outside. I ordered two drinks. A brewskie for me and a coke for the doll beside me. We each sat on a stool. She looked like a centerfold from the dirty magazines I beat the old bone to. Except this one wore clothes, not much of it, but some nonetheless. Her breasts about to pop out of the tiny cloth she called a shirt. Her jeans so tight that having them any tighter would have made the pants and her legs one. "Gee, Linky, you'd think you'd bring a girl to a place with more class." "Don't worry, baby, I won't let any of these boys touch ya." These words must have comforted her. She drank her coke and put on her jean jacket that was on her lap. "Let's get goin', Mae," I told her as I downed the last drink of beer. "We don't wanna stick around too long, they'll be onto you in no time." I walked behind her out the door throwing my change at the bartender. We had a long night ahead of us and I wasn't planning on wasting another night in the slums. We headed for my car waiting seven blocks from the bar. It was cold and her jean jacket wouldn't cut it. I removed my leather one and placed in on her shoulders. She looked up at me and smiled. Such a smile would melt the rings of Saturn. We walked. My left hand in my pocket fingering my switchblade. The right hand at the ready, in case some buster needed to be shot. And beauty at my right, arms folded in front of her, head low and heart high.
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yet untitled [May. 20th, 2005|10:39 am]
[mood |nerdy]
[music |U2 - Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For]

The hunch in the back of my mind told me to go for it, yet I was still hesitant. I ran towards the door to stop him from doing it. I tugged at his jacket with all my strength and brought him to a halt. He spinned to face me and tried to shrug me off. "Let me go," he said. I didn't let go. "You can't do this," I told him. "It doesn't matter what you say, I'm going to do it anyway. Just go away, this doesn't even involve you." That's when I pulled out my revolver and shot him three times. Lightning speed, hitting him twice in his chest and once in the head, right between his eyes. I caught him before he hit the ground. The silencer left a ringing in my ear as I let him down gently. "I'm sorry," I told his motionless body. I had to finish what he started. He could never have done it. He was too weak. I loved him to death. My best friend, but he could never survive in this world. I packed my bag and threw it over my shoulder. I removed the gun from his hand and placed a notecard on there that read as follows: 1258 ARBOR RD. CONTACT: JUNICE. Whoever was to find this would have to deal with the situation. I had other things to take care of. My mind was spinning. I saw her reflection from the corner of my eye. She was standing to my right, but I saw her on my left. I shot at the image provided by her reflection in the tall mirror, glass breaking. She gasped. "Don't worry sweetheart, I'd never shoot you," I said to her without looking back. "Where you goin', Link?" "Somewhere away from you," I responded. "Aww, suga, don't you wanna stay and have a little fun?" "Look I know you contacted the police and reported the shooting, so stop stalling, bitch, unless you wanna end up like your pretty boy right there." I walked away. Not another word was said from her. "You'll pay for this." I heard this statement as I jumped off from the fourth story window. He had it comin', the fucker. He didn't deserve it, but he had it comin'. I just wanted you to be happy, and I'll make them pay, Johnny, don't you worry, I'll make them pay. Your little bird better stay out of this, she'll end up dead like you, Johnny. Sirens. They'd be there in no time. I have exactly two minutes to get out of this neighborhood. Piece of cake.
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worst paper ever written! yet quite meaningful (at least the end) [May. 13th, 2005|01:39 am]
[mood |pessimisticpessimistic]
[music |cafe tacvba - eres]

Samuel Vivar
CWL 100
May 13, 2004
Term Paper

While At Play

In Samuel Beckett’s “Play” the theme of hopelessness and hope arise which bring the question to the table of whether there is any hope for human kind. Hopelessness plays a big part in this play. The three urns containing the heads of three people known as W1, W2 and M, all represent the dead as they are being in neither heaven nor hell, but not being in life either. They are deceased and having done some horrendous acts in their lifetime now have to suffer here in the urns with no one else but a light that shines on them every once in a while.
The term hopelessness is used to describe the lack of desire or having no expectation of fulfillment. Hopelessness would also negate any promise for the future. The three people inside the urns were involved in a love triangle affair. All three of them experience hopelessness because there is nothing for them to turn to. They keep repeating to themselves the events that brought them into this hellish half-light where they exist only to themselves alone and to the ominous light.
It is inevitable for each of these individuals to experience hopelessness. They all got what was coming to them. The character known as M in this play was seeing two women at the same time. He could not live with just one, he had to have both of them and in the end he ended up hurting both of them. His “love” for W1 was not even love at all. M says “She did not repulse me,” (p. 149), referring to W1. Just before that statement he swore to W1 that he could not live without her. He meant that declaration, but what he forgot to include was that he could not live without w2 either. He played these two women like objects. We don’t usually love a person who simply does not repulse us. There must be more feeling involved. A lot of people, I’m sure, did not repulse M, yet here he was thinking to himself that he could be with W1 simply because she did not repulse him.
Human hopelessness is all around us. Everyday people have some sort of feeling where the feel as if they cannot go on any longer. “Dying for dark - and the darker the worse.” (p. 157). W1 describes the way it is when there is no hope. She hopes for the dark, yet when darkness comes it feels worse. There is nothing to help her recover from what she’s done. There is only the reminder of what she did. That is all that she can think of, yet that is still better than the dark. It’s not any form of hope, but when the light shines on her she reminisces of what has been, it’s a better feeling that fills her up instead of the darkness that embraces her and makes her nonexistent.
“Play” is a poking at a wound forever. None of the three characters are any better for coming to understand the other. They all hold their grudges against the people who lay next to them, with no knowledge of them being there. To each of these three individuals the events that preceded them were so traumatizing and resentful that it haunts them for eternity. Their reaction to one another is brief intimacy. They are side by side but are not joined except for this recollection. This recollection where each one of them has their own point of view to tell. They each pour out how they feel about the other two, yet have no desire to stop and think about what the other two are feeling or what they are feeling towards them. None of the three are any better at coming to understand the other. They will forever be forlorn in their urn without end. Days and days will pass and all they will wait for is the light to shine on them to give them something to remember, something to do while they recollect their memories in the separate urns, expecting darkness.
Their hopelessness is continuous because it’s eternal. They are, each of them, recounting a history, a past where lies and deceit took place. They all have an individual fate, but all three have a connection. This reconnection to one another is what gives them the sense of hopelessness that they cannot help but feel. There will never be a resolution to their feelings of remorse. No conclusion will end their sorrow. The betrayal that M has exposed to both W1 and W2 is far beyond their life. It has reached them here in the afterlife, where there is nothing to do but recollect in their own, individual hellish half-light.
M warns adulterers to never admit (p. 150). He regrets having ever admitted to W1 about W2. Having admitted has brought him here to this hell where there is nothing to do but remember the past. Yet, even after admitting to W1 he didn’t take heed and stop seeing W2. He could not let go of either one of them. They were both part of his life. They were what he needed. It would make him miserable to let either one of them go. They were both, in a sense, his hope. In the end all they brought about his being hopeless. He had a totally different relationship with both of them. He couldn’t have intimacy with W1, but he loved her, and he couldn’t leave W2 because he enjoyed the intimacy they shared.
The light in “Play” serves as a sort of God. It is the only thing that comes into contact with each character. They speak to the light as they speak to themselves. They have no one else but themselves and the light, when the light ceases to be they have nothing. When the light comes on they have to recount what they’ve done. There’s no doubt that the light serves as a barrier between what they are now and what they were when they were still alive, committing these heinous acts so recollected. When the light is taken off them they cease to exist. They are there, but they don’t think, nor move, nor see anything. They hope for the light. The light brings them memory. It gives them something to do, even if it causes them the insatiable pain that was foretold in the past.
Humans all technically act the way W1, W2, and M are in this play. We tend to “play” with people’s emotions and don’t expect anything to happen to us, for it’s our own sake that we play with. That would be incorrect, as shown here in “Play.” Beckett sees life as all things changing, but not improving, things will only be unimproved. Life starts out as being helpless and in the end we die helpless. There is no emergence in life, nothing to gain, for life, from the moment one is born, is a trip downhill. Every day that passes is a day closer to the day we will, inevitably, pass away. Everything in between birth and death is how we are seen by other. How we are seen by others is what is meaningful to us in life. The way others see us is all that matters because we have nothing else to live for but other people. No body would want to be seen as what they really are. We live to please those around us, or at least try to please them. Beckett felt this last statement to be true. As in his other play “Rockaby,” The woman sitting in the rocking chair felt hopeless when she was born and now that she’s reached her end she sits in the same chair her mother once did and feels the same hopeless feeling. She sits there listening to herself speak. She rocks in her chair signifying life. Life ceases to be when we stop moving. So long as the chair is moving then so is life. The woman asks for more whenever the voice stops speaking to her. There’s an ounce of hope whenever she asks for more. Yet, the rocking eventually quits and death is only a breath away. We’re all heading the same way down the path of life, no matter who we are.
Humans are born with hopelessness. The same hopelessness that is felt by the three characters in this play. The same hopelessness that will eventually bring us to the end. There is no hope for humankind. Our destiny is foretold from the beginning. We don’t need a fortune teller to tell us what will happen in life, for death is what will happen. We will all die, and when we die we’ll die with the feeling of hopelessness. That same feeling that is felt from birth. Life is apparent, we’re born to die, everything we do in life is just motion, like the rocking in “Rockaby.” Life is just the image we produce to make it seem like we are inferring something within ourselves, when in fact all we have to do is wait. The time will come when we will die and the progression in life will not have mattered. The people that we wanted to so please will not matter anymore. Hopelessness will surround us and all we can do is hope for the best in the afterlife. Hope. We will always be hoping for something better, but hopelessness is much stronger, for in life, hopelessness is what finishes us off.
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(no subject) [May. 5th, 2005|01:39 am]
[mood |depresseddepressed]
[music |dashboard confessional]

I sat awaiting her call, but no ring. I sat and I thought. I thought about what she was doing, who she was with. She's probably with him. She MUST be with him. I didn't receive a call this morning and something in my gut tells me I won't be receiving one today, at all. Am I losing her? Could it possibly be that my one true love is leaving me for good? We've been apart for quite awhile now, but she's never left my side. Now I fear she's going away. She's found someone better. I can't blame her. I never was her type. But she loved me, still. I understand. I'm a very understanding person, yet I never understood how her love worked. It was amazing being with her and seeing her transform into this beautiful woman of independence, power, intelligence, and superiority. And then there were the times when she would shrink into the most fearful child. Times when she felt she could no longer go on, but she always came out on top. She sure was a strong one. How I will miss her laughter and her tears. Forever will her eyes remain in my memory, for no one had a stare like hers. A stare that could melt any soul. Her face and body were like fire, untouchable, yet mine. I am the one who needs to let her go. I need to give her up. I wouldn't dare, though. She owns too much of me. She owns all of me. To let her go would be to give myself up and wander the world soul-less without a thought in my brain. I'd become nothing but an occupation of space. What I wouldn't give to hold her in my arms one last time. To hear her voice echo in my ears. To see that smile that always made me weak in the stomach. I would give anything to call her mine once again. To feel the envy from others. To feel jealousy when I wasn't with her. To feel the pain she struck into my heart. I always hated it, but I can't live without it. She is a Goddess amongst mediocrity, I being the main mediocre, enslaved in her presence, captured by her thoughts. To win her back will by my greatest challenge yet. To have her love me again, my greatest achievement. Time. All I need is time. I have not much time left, for the pain engraved in my heart will eventually cease to be and my heart will stop its incessant beating in my chest. Everything will stop in time. I will be no more. The pain will drive me to the edge, to the point of no return. Yet here I sit, waiting for a ring, a simple ring to hear her voice just once more.
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(no subject) [May. 4th, 2005|04:19 pm]
[mood |depresseddepressed]

I didn’t know how to tell her, but I knew I had to do it. I called her and told her to meet me outside, that I was outside her house. She told me to wait, she had to put some clothes on. There’s no going back now, I thought to myself. She was getting ready to hear me out. To hear what I had to say, what I was hiding all this time. I was so nervous, my hands were sweating and my breathing was heavy. I tried to remain calm, but it was too hard.
She came out five minutes later and I got out of my car. I wiped my hands on my pants. I closed the door and walked over to her. She gave me a smile from afar and I returned it. My heart was pounding louder and louder as I got closer and closer to her. We finally met and hugged. She gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wonder if she tasted my sweat, the thought made me blush.
She asked me what was so important that I had come without notice to visit her. I told her that it was nothing, except that I had the urge to see her. She smiled and said I was sweet. I put my hands in my pockets in order for her not to see them shake so much. My nervousness was making my hands shake uncontrollably. She led me over to the edge of the street and asked me to have a seat. She told me there was something she had to tell me. I thought I was the one here to admit to something, but she had something on her mind as well! What a turn of events, I thought.
We sat down and she held my hands in hers, her eyes never left my own. Those eyes were the most beautiful brown almond-shaped eyes I had ever seen. They glimmered in the sunlight. She started to speak, but she hesitated. She told me to go first, but I insisted that she begin. She agreed and began by telling me that there was a boy she liked.
She told me that he was everything she could ever want. She told me that she met him at school and they had become friends. I asked her why she hadn’t told me about him before hand. Her response was inaudible and she continued to tell me that she had been seeing the guy for about two weeks already. Two weeks! My heart was pounding so hard that I felt it would pop out of my chest at any moment. It wasn’t going to be so hard to tell her what I came here for.
I asked her what his name was and all the details. She seemed to like this guy a whole lot. She even admitted to liking this guy a whole lot. She had never felt this way about anyone and she was so happy that she was able to tell someone about this. At this point in the story I was ready to put a gun to my head and shoot my brains out, but I kept a smile on my face. I told her I was happy for her and hoped that everything would work out fine between them.
We sat in silence for about ten seconds. They were probably the longest ten seconds of my life. Then she asks me what I had to say. I didn’t know how to say this anymore. I had to get it off my chest now, though. I love you, I told her. She was taken aback and I turned my face. I couldn’t look her in the eyes. I was embarrassed. I told her I should probably leave. I stood up and looked down at her. I told her I loved her once again and gave her a wry smile. I walked away. She didn’t get up. I reached my car and got inside.
I sat there completely motionless for about two minutes. I heard a knock at my window and saw her standing there. I rolled down the window. She leaned over and gave me a kiss on my lips. She said she was sorry and walked away. I stared at her as she walked back towards her house. I drove away and I never saw her again. She never saw me again.
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