All You've Left
Stallion.
Ronnie looked at the faded picture of the blonde that had dominated his mind for over two decades as he went to sleep. He knew she wasn't coming back. He didn't think she would even if she could. That doesn't stop a person from wanting anyone. This girl was the girl that dominated the room when she walked in. Long messy, pillow styled hair, ocean gray eyes, her teeth were crooked and she showed them off often in her wide smile. He had good times with her. The best actually.
The girl always had a bandana- Tupac style- around her head, she was never seen without one. Except when it fell off when she was fucking. The girl was wild. Crazy as fuck. Ronnie laughed as he remembered her erotic side. Almost every night she would be on top of him, making his every wet dream a reality.
He loved her to death, he would do anything for her. She didn't need all that, though. She just wanted company every once and a while.
They had known each other around a year before she decided she could tolerate to settle down a little with him. He finally got her all to himself. He never had to worry about her coming home, or her getting too drunk or high and not remembering who she had sex with last night. He had achieved the unachievable. He tamed the wild stallion. He loved her.
She was moving in with him, something he insisted on. He worried constantly about her safety in her previous place. He had never regretted another action as much as this. He should have never made her move,but how was he to know? They were working hard loading all her possessions in his new '89 pick up truck. She had to keep stopping. Ronnie made her take frequent breaks, but it didn't help anything. He just figured since she wasn't as strong as Ronnie was. He just figured that it was a hot day and she couldn't handle lifting these heavy boxes. But, she preserved, mostly to prove a point.
Her heart was killing her. She knew it. She knew she shouldn't do anything that she did. But she had lived this long hadn't she? None of her previous stunts had killed her. She knew that she shouldn't be able to handle her wild life style, but she was proving a point to God.
She could do whatever she wanted to and there'd be no repercussions. She was daring God. He wasn't anything compared to her in her own eyes.
She could feel her heart beating too fast, that had happened before. She pushed on.
The room was spinning, it was a struggle to stand up without falling, let alone pick up thirty pound boxes. But it was no match for her. "Fuck you, Jesus." was the phrase constantly running through her mind. Nothing could ever happen to her. She was too young. She was only twenty four. Twenty four year olds are invincible.
Her constant hacking was concerning Ronnie, but she always shrugged him off. He thought she seemed annoyed. He just thought that she was having a bad day. Nobody likes moving.
He was wrong.
She passed out and never got to laugh at the idea of death again, because she had already met Him.
It was her mother that told Ronnie about her heart defect. She told him how she had never taken it serious and that she didn't blame him for her daughters death. But he blamed himself. How could he not? He should have picked up on the signs. He should have known something.
He felt the same way she did when she was dying, at her funeral. Nothing her mother could say could erase the guilt he felt.
This was completely his fault. How couldn't it be? He had over exerted her.
It had been twenty years and he still beat himself up about it. The guilt still sank on his chest whenever he thought to hard about it. He still fell asleep looking at the picture of the wild stallion with the Tupac bandana. The girl that took everything he could have been or would've been when she was put in the ground. The blonde girl that he yearned to touch, to careless, to fuckin' talk about his day with. She was the only thing he ever wanted. He wanted her back, even though it was impossible. All that he had left were faded polaroids. He never thought he'd be reduced to this.
He hasn't had one lasting relationship besides her. All of his girlfriends mistook his traumatized obsessing as just being plain old clingy. Every time he heard some one so much as cough, he'd become tense. He couldn't handle outside. He worked from home. He only had a few friends that understood him.
He tried to be normal, he really did. It just wasn't something that was possible anymore. It was amazing the impact that that petite fragile woman would have on his heart. She never released her tiny, but strong fist from his heart even after decades.
He didn't want to deal with this anymore. He always prayed to the God she mocked just to take him out so that he could see her again, but he knew that God had a twisted sense of humor. He was perfectly healthy.
Ronnie had three more decades riddled with guilt, hurt, and nostalgia left to live with.
When death finally arrived at his door though, he didn't run. He was still thinking of her.
The girl always had a bandana- Tupac style- around her head, she was never seen without one. Except when it fell off when she was fucking. The girl was wild. Crazy as fuck. Ronnie laughed as he remembered her erotic side. Almost every night she would be on top of him, making his every wet dream a reality.
He loved her to death, he would do anything for her. She didn't need all that, though. She just wanted company every once and a while.
They had known each other around a year before she decided she could tolerate to settle down a little with him. He finally got her all to himself. He never had to worry about her coming home, or her getting too drunk or high and not remembering who she had sex with last night. He had achieved the unachievable. He tamed the wild stallion. He loved her.
*****
She was moving in with him, something he insisted on. He worried constantly about her safety in her previous place. He had never regretted another action as much as this. He should have never made her move,but how was he to know? They were working hard loading all her possessions in his new '89 pick up truck. She had to keep stopping. Ronnie made her take frequent breaks, but it didn't help anything. He just figured since she wasn't as strong as Ronnie was. He just figured that it was a hot day and she couldn't handle lifting these heavy boxes. But, she preserved, mostly to prove a point.
Her heart was killing her. She knew it. She knew she shouldn't do anything that she did. But she had lived this long hadn't she? None of her previous stunts had killed her. She knew that she shouldn't be able to handle her wild life style, but she was proving a point to God.
She could do whatever she wanted to and there'd be no repercussions. She was daring God. He wasn't anything compared to her in her own eyes.
She could feel her heart beating too fast, that had happened before. She pushed on.
The room was spinning, it was a struggle to stand up without falling, let alone pick up thirty pound boxes. But it was no match for her. "Fuck you, Jesus." was the phrase constantly running through her mind. Nothing could ever happen to her. She was too young. She was only twenty four. Twenty four year olds are invincible.
Her constant hacking was concerning Ronnie, but she always shrugged him off. He thought she seemed annoyed. He just thought that she was having a bad day. Nobody likes moving.
He was wrong.
She passed out and never got to laugh at the idea of death again, because she had already met Him.
*****
It was her mother that told Ronnie about her heart defect. She told him how she had never taken it serious and that she didn't blame him for her daughters death. But he blamed himself. How could he not? He should have picked up on the signs. He should have known something.
He felt the same way she did when she was dying, at her funeral. Nothing her mother could say could erase the guilt he felt.
This was completely his fault. How couldn't it be? He had over exerted her.
It had been twenty years and he still beat himself up about it. The guilt still sank on his chest whenever he thought to hard about it. He still fell asleep looking at the picture of the wild stallion with the Tupac bandana. The girl that took everything he could have been or would've been when she was put in the ground. The blonde girl that he yearned to touch, to careless, to fuckin' talk about his day with. She was the only thing he ever wanted. He wanted her back, even though it was impossible. All that he had left were faded polaroids. He never thought he'd be reduced to this.
He hasn't had one lasting relationship besides her. All of his girlfriends mistook his traumatized obsessing as just being plain old clingy. Every time he heard some one so much as cough, he'd become tense. He couldn't handle outside. He worked from home. He only had a few friends that understood him.
He tried to be normal, he really did. It just wasn't something that was possible anymore. It was amazing the impact that that petite fragile woman would have on his heart. She never released her tiny, but strong fist from his heart even after decades.
He didn't want to deal with this anymore. He always prayed to the God she mocked just to take him out so that he could see her again, but he knew that God had a twisted sense of humor. He was perfectly healthy.
Ronnie had three more decades riddled with guilt, hurt, and nostalgia left to live with.
When death finally arrived at his door though, he didn't run. He was still thinking of her.