Moments are Memories

I remember the smell of cheap alcohol escaping our mouths. The taste of lemon on my tongue as I sat there trying to get the taste out of my mouth so I could concentrate better.

I don’t remember how we ended up in your room, but I was there, sitting on the floor, listening to your proud talk on how Japanese people fought against their homeland.

I sat there, and all was silent. Suddenly, through the clouds I, once again, acknowledged the fact I would date you if I weren’t already with my boyfriend, and if he weren’t already taken. He nodded, and said, “I know,” to which I responded back with, “Yeah, but it would never work.” I was surprised to find you staring at me with those green eyes and saying, “You don’t know that.”

Silence. I could not speak. I dare not speak, for I was afraid of what would happen if I did. Best not to think. Though some would say after a drink or two, you tell the truth.

I decided to lay down on his bed. He said, “Wait,” and he fluffed up his pillow and pulled up his comforter neatly. This was not needed in my eyes, but I waited till he was satisfied and layed down on his bed. I stared up at the ceiling and began to think. 

“Remember back in high school when Robin and I were having our fight? And I ran out crying because I was just so sad?” He was staring at me. “Well,” I started. “Well, I just wanted to thank you for coming after me. That mean’t a whole lot. And I never properly thanked you for it. That’s all.” 

Silence.

“Remember that time we were chatting online and you said, ‘I only see sadness in your eyes?'” His eyes didn’t waver. He never blinked. He never stopped looking at me.

I offered him a nod of understanding.

“I appreciated that. It mean’t a lot,” he finished.

“Now I only see sadness in your heart,” I responded before I sat up and started into those crystal green eyes of his. 

Through tears I’ve never seen slide down his face, he told let out a burden which wasn’t mine to help bear nor repeat. He sat there and I finally realized his wall which held the river in finally had a tiny crack in it.

We embraced. I could fell his strength holding me as he ran his fingers through my hair, stroking my head. But we never kissed–it wasn’t mean’t to happen. And although we had a precious moment together…that’s all it was.

A moment now turned into a memory.

written for the weekly writing challenge via The Daily Post – Memories

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3 Responses to Moments are Memories

  1. Pingback: a rite of passage | Musings of a Random Mind

  2. Pingback: I Remember the Falling Rain | Ramisa the Authoress

  3. Pingback: Court fixing up the past | litadoolan

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