Emerald Eyes

My dearest Roxana,

I understand why you did what you did. I was an ass for the things I've done, to you and Adrienne both. But, I can't help it, Roxy, I'm in love with you. I love everything about you. I love the way you eyes squint ever so lightly when you laugh, and it's a genuine laugh as well. It's not an obnoxious laugh, but it's loud enough to know you really do find things funny, and not just humoring the person telling the joke. Your sarcasm isn't offensive, you know how to bluntly say things without pissing that person off. You're as beautiful awake as you are asleep next to me those nights we share. I miss the soft touch of your skin against my own. I miss those intense hazel eyes staring at me, you have more green than brown those. And there are golden specks traced between the blended colors that shine slightly in the sun when you look at a certain angle. I miss your kisses, and your arms wrapped around me when we see each other, as though we haven't seen each other for years. I miss the nights we shared and the interests we had too. I never met a girl as talented at guitar as you are.

I know what I say can't bring you back to me. That's one thing I learned about you: you're a stubborn girl. But I like that about you, because you stick to your beliefs, no matter who tries to sway your decisions. I know you did this for the better for both of us in some ways more than others, and I do appreciate it. But I don't agree with it. You've always thought of others before yourself. But, I want you, Roxy. I want to stare into those hazel eyes forever. I want to kiss you again, hug you and never let go. I want to spend more nights with you. I want to feel your skin against mine again.

Remember those long strolls we'd take in the middle of the night? The ones where we'd talk about everything, and never hold back our feelings? I want that again. I miss it. I learned so much about you from those nights. I'd do anything to spend just one more night like that with you. I miss your witty humor, your selflessness, and your amazing cooking.

But mainly: I miss you.

Please don't forget about me, because I'll never forget about you.

xo, Billie Joe

You sat there, rereading the words over and over again. He writes beautifully, you think. But, at the same time, you look behind the words, and into the meaning.

He misses you. He cares.

All this time, you've convinced yourself you've been nothing but a one-night stand, lasting a very long time. You've considered yourself a mistress and nothing more. But, in fact, it was much more than a mistress, it was love.

He's in love with you.

You've let him get away. But, it was the right thing, even he said so. You had to, it was hurting everyone involved.

You look up from the paper, tears in your eyes, and you see Adrienne. The worry on her eyes, the love falling from each salty raindrop formed in her eyes. She loves him, and he loves her.

But he's in love with you. He said it.

"What did it say? Do you know where he might be?" Adrienne asked, impatience tracing in her panicked voice.

You can't possibly tell her what the note said, it would kill her. You make up a lie about how he told you how great of a friend you've been to him. You start to tell her how he said he loved to share the love of guitar with you, and how amazing he thought you were and skilled. Her face softened, believing the story. You know what she was thinking, and you also know it's completely true.

"What are we going to do?" she asks you. "I don't even know where to start. Mike and Tré are looking around the town, but they haven't seen him yet. And they left almost an hour ago."

You ponder as to where he may be. You think of all the places he's been, and you don't even know where to begin. He loves so many places, so it would be forever until you found one specific spot.

You ask Adrienne if anyone has gone downtown yet. You're beginning to get an idea.

She thinks for a moment, "No, not that I can think of. The guys are still around where the restaurant is, so I don't think so."

You tell her you're going to search there then, since no one else has. Adrienne tells you she'd love to accompany you, but the boys were asleep and she couldn't leave them alone. You tell her you completely understand and you leave, telling her to call you if she finds out anything.

You drive down the boulevard, telling yourself this was all your fault. You hope, pray, that nothing has happened to him. You yearn to find him, know he is okay. Because if you discovered he was harmed in any way, shape or form, you could never live with yourself.

Twenty minutes later, you're downtown. Twenty minutes later, you're on that same street you parted from him the first time you met him. Twenty minutes later, you were at the same small club you first locked a stare with those emerald eyes.

No one's ever thought to look here, because they don't know the history behind those dark brown doors. No one knows that he's even been around this side of town. No one knows that he comes here to get away from everything, because no one looks at him as an international superstar. They look at him as an individual, there to experience aspiring musicians and the cheap alcohol.

No one knows but you.