A short story I wrote several years back.

11-12-08

"Do you think we'll still know each other in ten years?"

He smiles at me in his usual manner, as if I was a small girl who said something silly or preposterous. "Of course we will, unless one of us dies between now and then."

I nod my approval. The warmth of my love for him spreads from my heart down to my toes and I sigh in happiness. "What about forever though?"

He shakes his head at me in amusement and reaches his pointer finger forward to tap me on the nose. "Where could I go that I wouldn't need you there with me? I suppose forever is our only answer," his chocolaty brown eyes look down at me with such adoration that I think my heart might burst.

"I'm glad you think that," I say. I take his hand in mine and squeeze it. "Because I love you a bushel and a peck. A bushel and a peck, and a hug around the neck!" To emphasize my point, I giggle and fling myself at him and attach my arms around his neck.


It still makes me smile to remember that day. That was the day he had promised me forever.

I think he and I had different views on the definition of forever, though.

Because ten months later, he told me he had to leave me, to travel across Europe with his rock band. He told me he doubted he'd ever come back to the U.S.A. He apologized, kissed my forehead, and left me standing alone in the gazebo, surrounded by apple trees with electrical lights hanging from the branches and benches made to fit only two people.

The coldest December I had ever known followed, and soon I was regretting that I was too chicken to commit suicide. Jumping off the West St. Bridge into the icy water would be such a quick way to go. But I was afraid of heights. And the dark. And the cold.

I loved life, but a life without him was simply unlovable. It was torture to wake up in the morning and know he wouldn't be there. To walk around our old town and know I wouldn't be seeing him. To listen to the radio and know that love songs didn't apply to us anymore.

"It is your own fault you know," I sadly sigh to myself as I wander through the park. I had waded through four feet of snow to get to where I was going. A hill with a single pine tree on the top of it. Our hill. Our pine tree.

I don't like snow. It reminds me of nights spent snuggling up with cups of cocoa after a snowball fight.
I don't like spring. It reminds me of fresh love and joy.
I don't like summer. It reminds me of walks along the ocean and ice cream.
I don't like fall. It reminds me of carving jack-o-lanterns in his front yard and jumping in piles of leaves.

My friends tell me I used to glow. I used to bounce. I used to smile and giggle. I have to pause to remember the definitions of those words; they always seem to escape me now.

I especially hate country music. My boss at work always listens to country. And every song is about love, heartbreak, or drinking. And I've had my fair share of each, and all three were my downfall.

My boss fired me four days ago. She said that I was unfocused and didn't pay enough attention to the customers that came in the store. She was telling the truth.

"Hello," I say to the tree. I sit down at its base. "Been a while."

It doesn't respond.

"I am sorry," I apologize. "I have been distracted. Remember that boy I used to bring here to see you? He said goodbye to me two months ago."

The tree creaks in the wind, and it sounds like it is horrified. Or so I think.

"I know," I continue. "He said his future called him to leave and that he didn't think he'd be coming back. Did you know I was in love with him?"

My tree creaks again, and this time I think it sounds sorry for me.

I sigh. "You remember when he promised me forever? I don't think he meant it."

My tree creaks in agreement.

"But he did promise," I go on. "Why did he break his promise?"

My tree doesn't creak this time. It is silent.

"Why didn't he need me anymore? After all, he told me he did need me. You should have told me he was lying," I tell my pine tree.

A pine needle falls on my nose.

"It isn't your fault, don't apologize," I say quickly. "You didn't know any better. I didn't either."

My tree creaks again, only this time it sounds like music. A beautiful song. A lullaby for me.

I lay my head on its trunk. "I know you aren't like him," I am confident now. "I know I can trust you to stay with me forever."

My tree drops more pine needles onto my head and I smile.

"You are right. I can be happy without him. Thank you. And I know your forever could be a lot shorter than mine. But it's enough for me."

You may think that I am crazy or mentally ill.

But I'm not.

I'm simply broken-hearted.