In Gods Hands

She had a different story, a hard story to tell actually, not a story your everyday house wife would tell you, but she wasn't your everyday house wife anymore, she was left alone, heartbroken and cold, hoping that the next thing that came into her life she loved wasn't taken away from her and sent to the heavens.

"I'll love you until the day I die."

But she didn't know that day would come so soon, she knew that the day they said their I dos was the most important and the noises uttered around them meant nothing, just him being her's and her belonging to him mattered.

Laying face first into the pillows she wished it was her time to leave or the clocks would turn back and she would be able to stop him, tell him he can't do it, tell him he can't leave her, not like this, and to tell him she loved him.

She knew he would only smile at her and laugh, telling her to stop being foolish, that he loved her to and to wish him luck and luck was what he needed, but lady luck must of been off picking apples with mother nature because she surely wasn't there when he needed her, when they all needed her.

Days would pass, seconds ticked by like hours, her body moved around the house as if she were a ghost, tissues covered their bedroom floor, his clothes scattered around the room as if a tornado ran through the house, one of his baggy shirts hung from her body as she slept her time away.

She knew this wasn't the way he would want her to be, he would want her to be happy for the life he lived, for the love he gave, for the times they spend together, for her to have a smile on her face, to be the strong women he knew she was, the strong women he grew to love.

But she couldn't be something she wasn't, she tried, she tried her hardest to move her self from her lying position, to go out, to eat, to stop crying, but that would mean to stop thinking, to stop loving, to stop basking in the memories that she held so close to her heart.

Yelling she ran into the back yard, her hands covering her face as he chased her with a water gun, "Jeremy no!"

"Jeremy yes!" He mocked, the small, orange object fitting into his hand perfectly, "It's only fair!"

"I didn't mean to I promise!" Smirking to her self, she ran back into the house, "The pot just fell!"

Coming face to face with a corner she groaned and turned around, only for the gun to be pointed right in her face.

"And the water just happened to fall right onto my head?"

She giggled slightly, batting her lashes, she pouted, her bottom lip sticking out, her index finger moved up his tattooed arm.

"Not gonna work this time babe."

"But I didn't do it!"

"Who did it? The boogyman?" Chuckling his body moved closer towards her, the gun moving lower to her neck, moving slowly to her stomach, the hard plastic grazed her warm skin, her eyes closing slightly as his hot breath ghosted over her neck, "Who did it?"

She couldn't help but bring her pouted, bottom lip into her mouth as the water gun hit the hard wood floor, "The boogyman."

Nodding his nose pressed against her cheek, his ruff hands pressed into her California kissed skin.

She knew she had to do something with her self, she knew she had to make this bad situation better, she knew she had to change, things would change, no more loud laughing as the guys lazied around the living room, no more dirt bikes tearing up the backyard, no more late night adventures of sneaking into the Mulisha compound.

She knew it would take time, she knew she had to try, she knew she could do it, because he'll be beside her.

All it takes is patience, just a little patience is all you need.