My Love Was My Decay
Almost
It was quiet on the walk home. Paul was sure to be out again, something he’d been doing more often now that his senior year was approaching. Sometimes they both wished they hadn’t emancipated from their parents, but then he would remember and the thought would fade away.
The sky was a beautiful orange-pink, like some invisible artist had taken a large paintbrush and dipped it in fiery orange and baby-doll pink acrylics, just streaking them together and then brushing it over the horizon line. Everything was a various shade of black silhouette and he wished he’d brought his camera to capture the moment.
The footsteps on the pavement, the faintest whisper of arms swinging by the body, and the silence of blinking eyes seemed strangely loud as he realized how alone he was. There was no echo of scuffs on the sidewalk as she tripped over another leaf or the harmonious sound as she laughed about it. In fact, he was sure his voice had disappeared from lack of use, and his heart was ripped in two, the other half in her own bloodied hand without her knowing it. She’d probably tossed it into the bushes by now, the same bushes where he’d watched her fawning over him. Brendan.
They were at the beach, and it was her birthday. He’d gotten permission from Paul to take the car, after much wheedling and whining and explaining how important this day was. She was turning sixteen, and oddly enough, she didn’t want an extravagant party or tons or presents. She just wanted to go the beach.
And so he took her. He took the car and her warm hand, and looked into her excited face when he told her where they were going. He took his camera and she took hers and they sped down the highway towards the bay.
They got there, and it was a gorgeous day. It wasn’t windy, nor were the waves crashing loudly against the sand and rocks. Instead, it was sunny without burning anyone up, and the water was crystal clear, lapping gently back and forth. Kids were running amongst the darkened, wet sand and parents were chatting amiably higher up, not even bothering to keep a close eye because all felt safe and it was a moment in time where nothing was to be worried about.
The moment he parked the car, she jumped out and ran towards the ocean, her hair streaming behind her and her eyes sparkling like the water. Oh, he could’ve just stood there and drunk them up, but she didn’t stand still enough, anyways. He laughed at the very thought.
She stood ankle-deep in the water and closed her eyes, and he was only a few feet behind her, holding her camera. Then she yelled, into the sea where nothing could be heard but who heard everything and spoke nothing, “Why can’t every day be like this?” And he felt as if he could fly, for he’d made her happy and gotten her mind off her parents for once. She turned around to face him, smiling so widely she could’ve swallowed the sun, and hugged him so tightly she could’ve held the water.
“Thank you,” she breathed in his ear, and holding his hand they walked along the beach and under the pier, where she took the camera and shot every picture of every moving thing she could see. “I never want to forget this, where I am among people who are happy and make me happy, too.” And she took a picture of their intertwined fingers.
He could almost feel the warmth of her hand as it was bathed in the dimming sunlight. He could almost feel her lips at his ear, whispering a random secret that wasn’t really a secret at all. He could almost see the wind in her hair, making it fly out a million different ways and yet keeping it all together by his side.
He missed her so much.
The sky was a beautiful orange-pink, like some invisible artist had taken a large paintbrush and dipped it in fiery orange and baby-doll pink acrylics, just streaking them together and then brushing it over the horizon line. Everything was a various shade of black silhouette and he wished he’d brought his camera to capture the moment.
The footsteps on the pavement, the faintest whisper of arms swinging by the body, and the silence of blinking eyes seemed strangely loud as he realized how alone he was. There was no echo of scuffs on the sidewalk as she tripped over another leaf or the harmonious sound as she laughed about it. In fact, he was sure his voice had disappeared from lack of use, and his heart was ripped in two, the other half in her own bloodied hand without her knowing it. She’d probably tossed it into the bushes by now, the same bushes where he’d watched her fawning over him. Brendan.
They were at the beach, and it was her birthday. He’d gotten permission from Paul to take the car, after much wheedling and whining and explaining how important this day was. She was turning sixteen, and oddly enough, she didn’t want an extravagant party or tons or presents. She just wanted to go the beach.
And so he took her. He took the car and her warm hand, and looked into her excited face when he told her where they were going. He took his camera and she took hers and they sped down the highway towards the bay.
They got there, and it was a gorgeous day. It wasn’t windy, nor were the waves crashing loudly against the sand and rocks. Instead, it was sunny without burning anyone up, and the water was crystal clear, lapping gently back and forth. Kids were running amongst the darkened, wet sand and parents were chatting amiably higher up, not even bothering to keep a close eye because all felt safe and it was a moment in time where nothing was to be worried about.
The moment he parked the car, she jumped out and ran towards the ocean, her hair streaming behind her and her eyes sparkling like the water. Oh, he could’ve just stood there and drunk them up, but she didn’t stand still enough, anyways. He laughed at the very thought.
She stood ankle-deep in the water and closed her eyes, and he was only a few feet behind her, holding her camera. Then she yelled, into the sea where nothing could be heard but who heard everything and spoke nothing, “Why can’t every day be like this?” And he felt as if he could fly, for he’d made her happy and gotten her mind off her parents for once. She turned around to face him, smiling so widely she could’ve swallowed the sun, and hugged him so tightly she could’ve held the water.
“Thank you,” she breathed in his ear, and holding his hand they walked along the beach and under the pier, where she took the camera and shot every picture of every moving thing she could see. “I never want to forget this, where I am among people who are happy and make me happy, too.” And she took a picture of their intertwined fingers.
He could almost feel the warmth of her hand as it was bathed in the dimming sunlight. He could almost feel her lips at his ear, whispering a random secret that wasn’t really a secret at all. He could almost see the wind in her hair, making it fly out a million different ways and yet keeping it all together by his side.
He missed her so much.