Announcement

Collapse
No announcement yet.

Tonette's attempts

Collapse
X
  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • Tonette's attempts

    Short stories and poems i have written over the years.

  • #2
    Re: Tonette's attempts

    I wrote this about 5 or 6 years ago. I already posted this in the old site. Just re-posting.

    CHANCE ENCOUNTER


    It was the worst day of my life. Well, almost. But the worst happened too many years ago so it really doesn't count.

    I have always imagined meeting the greatest love of my life looking my best. That I would be all made up and dressed, looking corporate and chic, and probably in the sanctity of my own little office nook. Never did I imagine meeting him again with my seven-year-old in tow, looking hassled and fazed, with a dribble of chocolate ice cream on my once-white shirt, a dripping ice cream cone in one hand. Never did I imagine that I would be wearing my oldest, faded jeans, and that my hair would be pulled loosely in a pony tail, with no make up on, with sweat glistening on my forehead, and yes, on the tip of my nose.

    But it did happen, and I wished the earth would swallow me up when I looked into those familiar hazel eyes, with the old twinkle and amusement - until they were drawn by the insistent tugging on my other hand. Then something, I don't know what, flickered in those eyes. For a while, I was drawn back to that time when we loved each other so much.

    I just stood there as he arched his brow and smiled at the boy now looking up at him inquisitively. The ice cream was slowly dripping on my hand, but I just stood there drinking in the sight of him, slowly being transported to a time I never dare allow myself to remember.

    He was my greatest love. And seeing him again made me realize that he is still my greatest love. I have never loved anybody like I did love him, like I still do love him. And I could feel all the longing, all the hope, and all the love pouring out of my heart.

    My thoughts were interrupted by the persistent tugging on my hand. And when I looked down at my son, his face so close to the man I once knew and loved, bent on his knees and peering so closely into his face, my heart skipped and all thoughts were driven from my mind. Replaced by a familiar fear and dread. But at the back of my mind were hope and the excitement of discovery. And perhaps, relief.

    "Your son? I see you in him." He was facing me now, ruffling the short hair of my son, looking intently at me. Probably trying to read my thoughts. "Must be five years old."

    I can guess he was mentally calculating possibilities. Probably counting the years since we were last together. And ruling out the possibility of instant fatherhood.

    I did not correct him in his assumption. Kyle is small for his age. And although he had his seventh birthday a couple of months ago, he still is usually mistaken for a five-year-old. I just smiled at Andrew and let him draw his own conclusions. When finally faced with the opportunity to tell him the truth, I simply lost the nerve.

    "Mom, who is he?" Kyle was demanding attention now, and I knew we had to walk away or my too-wise-for-his-age-son will figure out the truth. Andrew might have changed his hairstyle, and might be wearing a tie, but he still looks like the man in the picture in my room. And Kyle obviously saw the resemblance.

    "I'm Andrew, an old friend of your mom. And you?"

    "K. A." my son replied, still looking at Andrew very intently.

    "K. A? And may I know what K.A. stands for?"

    “K. is for Kyle.” I could sense the hesitation in my son’s voice as slow realization dawned on him.

    Before Kyle could further say something, a woman I did not notice waiting behind Andrew spoke up. "Andrew, we'll be late for the doctor's appointment." Then she stepped forward and smiled at me. A sweet, innocent smile reached her eyes, as she reached for my hand and introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Susan. Forgive my husband for forgetting his manners. He is always excited when he is around children. Especially now."

    The hand on the bulging tummy, barely noticeable in her loose caftan, was joined by the very male hand of Andrew, gently caressing the soft mound. "We're having our first baby." Susan's voice cannot hide the excitement and the love she already feels for the life growing inside her body.

    Andrew's hand dropped from the intimate caress, his eyes slowly searching mine, for what, I did not dare guess anymore. My heart was thudding loudly, and I was afraid my face would show how upset and surprised I was - to learn that Andrew is already married - and having his first baby. No, his second baby - he just does not know.

    Feelings of regret swamped me. Regret at not having felt the soft caress at my tummy while I was carrying Kyle. Regret at not sharing the first years of Kyle, the growing years when he should have known about the baby I thought he never wanted. Regret at not knowing him enough to realize that he would want to share Kyle with me.

    I felt Kyle's piercing eyes, somehow knowing instinctively what bothered me. Kyle has always been sensitive about my moods and emotions. He instinctively knows when there is something wrong - like now. I gently tugged at his hand and softly told him, "Honey, we have to go now. Say goodbye to Uncle Andrew and Aunt Susan now."

    Typical of Kyle, instead of simply saying goodbye, he opened his arms and looked up at Andrew, silently waiting for a hug. To my surprise, Andrew laughed and indulged Kyle, quickly hugging him and planting a quick kiss on Kyle's still-plump cheeks. Then he looked into Kyle's wide eyes, so like his own I was afraid he would see the resemblance.

    I could tell the exact moment Kyle accepted him as the man in the picture. The man he was always asking me about. The man he suspected was his father but did not have the courage to ask. He kept on looking at Andrew intently, touching Andrew's face, smiling at his realization, at the discovery that here is the man in the photograph in mommy's room.

    Then he looked up at me and saw the silent tears in my eyes. He recognized the silent plea not to tell Andrew anything, nor ask anything. I have always known that my son is too old for his age. At seven years old, he is much too wise for his age. Imperceptively, he nodded and looked again at Andrew. This time, there was regret in his eyes. And sadness.

    Then he smiled, bitterly, and spoke in a very small voice.

    "Do you want to know what the A in my name is for?"

    "Ok, what is the A in your name for?" Andrew's smile was indulgent.

    "The A is for my father. I was named after him." Andrew's eyes sought mine, seeking confirmation.

    I couldn't hold on to his gaze, the tears threatening to flow. I tugged my hand from Kyle's hold, not hiding the tears anymore but wanting to get away. I couldn't speak from the lump in my throat.

    And as I turned away, I heard Kyle's soft voice. "K.A. is for Kyle Andrew."

    Then he held on to me, turning his back on the father he just met, holding on tight to me. As if by holding on to me, he was affirming his loyalty and his acceptance of the truth I have not shared with him before.

    My eyes were bleary, and I could not see where I was walking. The long-forgotten ice cream cone has melted, and I looked at it with surprise. I opened my hand and let the cone drop to the ground. Like the tears that were already streaming down my face. Tears for a love I had lost long ago -- but has only now accepted as gone for always.

    My feet were heavy. But slowly and firmly moving away from the man we accidentally met. The man my son should have known all his life, and the man my son is walking away from. I can feel the heaviness in his steps, and the slight droop to his shoulders. And most of all, I could see and feel the tears now flowing on his cheeks, and the deep pain in his very young heart. My son is only seven years old, but he has grown so much in the few minutes we met Andrew and his wife.

    We never looked back. But I could feel Andrew's gaze as we walked away. I knew he was willing us to look back, but we both did not. I could feel his confusion and the question he dared not ask. It was the hardest thing I have done in my life. And for a long time afterwards, I would remember it as the saddest but sweetest thing my son Kyle has ever done for me.

    Andrew's photograph no longer stands on top of my bedside table. But I did not throw it away. I gave it to Kyle, a legacy from a father he never knew, a father he only once met, and a father he gave up without a thought, to protect me and maybe, to protect the unborn sister or brother he would have had.

    We never knew if Kyle had a brother or a sister. And he never asked nor tried to find out. But we both know he has a father out there, somewhere. My son was man enough to walk away from him one day, so there will be less pain and hurt. I hope someday, his father will be man enough to get to know his other son. For my son's sake, I hope he will.

    - finis -


    Comment


    • #3
      Re: Tonette's attempts

      this made my eyes water.

      Comment


      • #4
        Re: Tonette's attempts

        i agree. made me teary-eyed. gosh, tonette it was beautiful.
        &quot;sometimes the T.V. is like a lover,<br />singing softly as you fall asleep,<br />you wake up in the morning and it&#39;s still there,<br />adding up the things you&#39;ll never be.&quot; - s t a r s

        Comment


        • #5
          Re: Tonette's attempts

          One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he was hungry.

          He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door.

          Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water! She thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it so slowly, and then asked, How much do I owe you?"

          You don't owe me anything," she replied. "Mother has taught us never to accept pay for a kindness."

          He said ... "Then I thank you from my heart."

          As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit.

          Many year's later that same young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease.

          Dr. Howard Kelly was called in for the Consultation.
          When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes.

          Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room.

          Dressed in his doctor's gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once.

          He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to her case.

          After a long struggle, the battle was won.

          Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, and then wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room. She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked, and something caught her attention

          on the side of the bill. She read these words...

          "Paid in full with one glass of milk"
          (Signed) Dr. Howard Kelly.

          Tears of joy flooded her eyes as her happy heart prayed: "Thank You, God, that your love has spread broad through human hearts and hands."

          There's a saying, which goes something like this:
          Bread cast on the waters comes back to you. The good deed you do today may benefit you or someone you love at the least expected time. If you never see the deed again at least you will have made the world a better
          place - And, after all, isn't that what life is all
          about?

          Comment


          • #6
            Re: Tonette's attempts

            Originally posted by fickle-me
            i agree. made me teary-eyed. gosh, tonette it was beautiful.
            thanks a lot. i haven't had the chance to come back to the site as, i am so embarassed to admit - i lost the link! i have been searching for the link since i got a new pc, but could not really remember. luckily, i found an old "favorites" folder in my pc at the office and finally was able to log in after so many months.

            Comment


            • #7
              Re: Tonette's attempts

              NOTHING LIKE THE FIRST TIME

              It’s never good as it was the first time…
              And that is never easy to accept.
              Often, it hurts more than you think it would.

              He loved me, once.
              But that was before he met her.
              He just never truly got me out of his heart...
              He lived in an illusion
              where he was still in love with me…

              And when we did meet again –
              He was disheartened to find
              that I wasn’t me anymore – I was no longer.

              Who could blame us –
              for trying to take hold of a past
              which has long slipped away
              from our grasp…




              /jan2784

              Comment


              • #8
                Re: Tonette's attempts

                LAST WORDS FOR MY MBM


                I knew the end was inevitable.
                Perhaps, I was a fool to believe
                that we could hold on to our past…
                But so were you.

                We both had our faults,
                our pains, and our joys…
                Let us just let them be – untouched,
                cherished and treasured.

                Neither of us should be blamed
                for the heartaches we suffered.
                We just didn’t know when to let go…

                Someday, there’ll be no more time for us.
                And our paths may never cross again.
                I have to tell you this now –
                and hope this time it really is the last –

                Goodbye, old love…



                /jan2784

                Comment


                • #9
                  Re: Tonette's attempts

                  IN MEMORIAM…


                  Let not the memories speak
                  for pain the word would be

                  You, I. no more us.
                  just love that was lost

                  Time was too short
                  and goodbyes were so easily said

                  Yet hurt I should not have been
                  were it not for shame

                  Lost dignity –
                  what more could have been so hurting?





                  /feb0384

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    Re: Tonette's attempts

                    Originally posted by tonettesky
                    I wrote this about 5 or 6 years ago. I already posted this in the old site. Just re-posting.

                    CHANCE ENCOUNTER


                    It was the worst day of my life. Well, almost. But the worst happened too many years ago so it really doesn't count.

                    I have always imagined meeting the greatest love of my life looking my best. That I would be all made up and dressed, looking corporate and chic, and probably in the sanctity of my own little office nook. Never did I imagine meeting him again with my seven-year-old in tow, looking hassled and fazed, with a dribble of chocolate ice cream on my once-white shirt, a dripping ice cream cone in one hand. Never did I imagine that I would be wearing my oldest, faded jeans, and that my hair would be pulled loosely in a pony tail, with no make up on, with sweat glistening on my forehead, and yes, on the tip of my nose.

                    But it did happen, and I wished the earth would swallow me up when I looked into those familiar hazel eyes, with the old twinkle and amusement - until they were drawn by the insistent tugging on my other hand. Then something, I don't know what, flickered in those eyes. For a while, I was drawn back to that time when we loved each other so much.

                    I just stood there as he arched his brow and smiled at the boy now looking up at him inquisitively. The ice cream was slowly dripping on my hand, but I just stood there drinking in the sight of him, slowly being transported to a time I never dare allow myself to remember.

                    He was my greatest love. And seeing him again made me realize that he is still my greatest love. I have never loved anybody like I did love him, like I still do love him. And I could feel all the longing, all the hope, and all the love pouring out of my heart.

                    My thoughts were interrupted by the persistent tugging on my hand. And when I looked down at my son, his face so close to the man I once knew and loved, bent on his knees and peering so closely into his face, my heart skipped and all thoughts were driven from my mind. Replaced by a familiar fear and dread. But at the back of my mind were hope and the excitement of discovery. And perhaps, relief.

                    "Your son? I see you in him." He was facing me now, ruffling the short hair of my son, looking intently at me. Probably trying to read my thoughts. "Must be five years old."

                    I can guess he was mentally calculating possibilities. Probably counting the years since we were last together. And ruling out the possibility of instant fatherhood.

                    I did not correct him in his assumption. Kyle is small for his age. And although he had his seventh birthday a couple of months ago, he still is usually mistaken for a five-year-old. I just smiled at Andrew and let him draw his own conclusions. When finally faced with the opportunity to tell him the truth, I simply lost the nerve.

                    "Mom, who is he?" Kyle was demanding attention now, and I knew we had to walk away or my too-wise-for-his-age-son will figure out the truth. Andrew might have changed his hairstyle, and might be wearing a tie, but he still looks like the man in the picture in my room. And Kyle obviously saw the resemblance.

                    "I'm Andrew, an old friend of your mom. And you?"

                    "K. A." my son replied, still looking at Andrew very intently.

                    "K. A? And may I know what K.A. stands for?"

                    “K. is for Kyle.” I could sense the hesitation in my son’s voice as slow realization dawned on him.

                    Before Kyle could further say something, a woman I did not notice waiting behind Andrew spoke up. "Andrew, we'll be late for the doctor's appointment." Then she stepped forward and smiled at me. A sweet, innocent smile reached her eyes, as she reached for my hand and introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Susan. Forgive my husband for forgetting his manners. He is always excited when he is around children. Especially now."

                    The hand on the bulging tummy, barely noticeable in her loose caftan, was joined by the very male hand of Andrew, gently caressing the soft mound. "We're having our first baby." Susan's voice cannot hide the excitement and the love she already feels for the life growing inside her body.

                    Andrew's hand dropped from the intimate caress, his eyes slowly searching mine, for what, I did not dare guess anymore. My heart was thudding loudly, and I was afraid my face would show how upset and surprised I was - to learn that Andrew is already married - and having his first baby. No, his second baby - he just does not know.

                    Feelings of regret swamped me. Regret at not having felt the soft caress at my tummy while I was carrying Kyle. Regret at not sharing the first years of Kyle, the growing years when he should have known about the baby I thought he never wanted. Regret at not knowing him enough to realize that he would want to share Kyle with me.

                    I felt Kyle's piercing eyes, somehow knowing instinctively what bothered me. Kyle has always been sensitive about my moods and emotions. He instinctively knows when there is something wrong - like now. I gently tugged at his hand and softly told him, "Honey, we have to go now. Say goodbye to Uncle Andrew and Aunt Susan now."

                    Typical of Kyle, instead of simply saying goodbye, he opened his arms and looked up at Andrew, silently waiting for a hug. To my surprise, Andrew laughed and indulged Kyle, quickly hugging him and planting a quick kiss on Kyle's still-plump cheeks. Then he looked into Kyle's wide eyes, so like his own I was afraid he would see the resemblance.

                    I could tell the exact moment Kyle accepted him as the man in the picture. The man he was always asking me about. The man he suspected was his father but did not have the courage to ask. He kept on looking at Andrew intently, touching Andrew's face, smiling at his realization, at the discovery that here is the man in the photograph in mommy's room.

                    Then he looked up at me and saw the silent tears in my eyes. He recognized the silent plea not to tell Andrew anything, nor ask anything. I have always known that my son is too old for his age. At seven years old, he is much too wise for his age. Imperceptively, he nodded and looked again at Andrew. This time, there was regret in his eyes. And sadness.

                    Then he smiled, bitterly, and spoke in a very small voice.

                    "Do you want to know what the A in my name is for?"

                    "Ok, what is the A in your name for?" Andrew's smile was indulgent.

                    "The A is for my father. I was named after him." Andrew's eyes sought mine, seeking confirmation.

                    I couldn't hold on to his gaze, the tears threatening to flow. I tugged my hand from Kyle's hold, not hiding the tears anymore but wanting to get away. I couldn't speak from the lump in my throat.

                    And as I turned away, I heard Kyle's soft voice. "K.A. is for Kyle Andrew."

                    Then he held on to me, turning his back on the father he just met, holding on tight to me. As if by holding on to me, he was affirming his loyalty and his acceptance of the truth I have not shared with him before.

                    My eyes were bleary, and I could not see where I was walking. The long-forgotten ice cream cone has melted, and I looked at it with surprise. I opened my hand and let the cone drop to the ground. Like the tears that were already streaming down my face. Tears for a love I had lost long ago -- but has only now accepted as gone for always.

                    My feet were heavy. But slowly and firmly moving away from the man we accidentally met. The man my son should have known all his life, and the man my son is walking away from. I can feel the heaviness in his steps, and the slight droop to his shoulders. And most of all, I could see and feel the tears now flowing on his cheeks, and the deep pain in his very young heart. My son is only seven years old, but he has grown so much in the few minutes we met Andrew and his wife.

                    We never looked back. But I could feel Andrew's gaze as we walked away. I knew he was willing us to look back, but we both did not. I could feel his confusion and the question he dared not ask. It was the hardest thing I have done in my life. And for a long time afterwards, I would remember it as the saddest but sweetest thing my son Kyle has ever done for me.

                    Andrew's photograph no longer stands on top of my bedside table. But I did not throw it away. I gave it to Kyle, a legacy from a father he never knew, a father he only once met, and a father he gave up without a thought, to protect me and maybe, to protect the unborn sister or brother he would have had.

                    We never knew if Kyle had a brother or a sister. And he never asked nor tried to find out. But we both know he has a father out there, somewhere. My son was man enough to walk away from him one day, so there will be less pain and hurt. I hope someday, his father will be man enough to get to know his other son. For my son's sake, I hope he will.

                    - finis -



                    Beautiful. So beautiful. This story made me teary-eyed. sob.
                    <br /><br />Stop animal abuse.

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Borrowed time - another attempt

                      Another attempt of mine. I will be posting this in chapters.

                      BORROWED TIME

                      CHAPTER 1

                      I have always wanted it. In fact, I have dreamt and wished and prayed to all the Gods to make it happen. But when it did, I totally lost it.

                      It was the night of our high school reunion. I never wanted to go. I had all the excuses in the world not to go. But in the end, curiosity won out and I did go. Which was the first mistake I did – or maybe, it was the mistake that was the precursor of the grandest mistake I could have made that night.

                      I came in the best dress I had. The small black number, with the barely there make up, and the highest heels I could comfortably walk with. I knew I looked good, considering. And I knew I looked cool (that was my daughter speaking). But inside, I was all jittery. As nervous as I could get. And it took a Herculean effort not to turn my back and forget about walking past the gates, much less seek my former friends and mates from way back when.

                      But the chorus of voices which greeted me made me take that one vital step – back to a place I thought I would never ever see again.

                      “Lori!!!” All familiar voices from my past. And sure enough, I saw them just beyond the gates – Mildred, Evelyn, and Suzanne – my friends in high school. More than just friends, maybe. They were like the sisters I never had.

                      They crowded on me and we all hugged and tried bravely not to cry. It felt like coming home. It was like finding a piece of yourself that you forgot you lost – and suddenly it was there again and you wonder how come you did not miss it all along.

                      “Hey, Lori, you look great!” Suzanne turned me around so everybody could take a look at what I was wearing. Modesty aside, I probably looked not a year older than the last time I saw Evelyn and Mildred – which was at Evelyn’s wedding, five years after our high school graduation.

                      “Thanks, Sue,” I hugged her again and felt the familiar welcoming hug from my dearest friend in high school. I turned to look at Mildred and Evelyn, both as misty-eyed as I was, and wondered why I have stayed away from them for so long.

                      “How are you Lori?” Mildred seemed hesitant, and seemed somewhat at a loss. For a moment there, my heart skipped one tiny bit, but I tried to ignore it. Which was probably the second mistake I did that night.

                      “Hi, Mil. I’m fine. This feels good, getting back together. We should probably do it more often.” I held her hand and squeezed, wanting to let her know I meant every word I said.

                      Evelyn sighed, almost imperceptibly, and took my other hand. “We thought for a while that you were not coming – after...” She visibly bit on her lower lip and looked at Mildred for a second. I knew what Evelyn was getting at. And despite the skip in my heart, I was able to give her a genuinely warm smile.

                      “Silly you. How can I not come? You were my friends, still are my friends – and I will not miss this chance of getting back together with you again.”

                      “So, you are really okay?” again from Mildred, seeking with her eyes the truth in whatever answer I would give.

                      “Of course, I’m fine. It has been a long time Mil. We should forget about it. We’re friends – before and now. And that is all that matters. I’ve gotten over everything. I swear.” I gave Mildred what I hoped looked like a sincere smile. And hoped she would believe me. Because I did not want to ruin the night for us.

                      Evelyn squeezed my hand and asked, “But, are you okay with Andy here?”

                      Just like that, my heart tripped and hammered and I hoped they would not hear. But I tried to keep the smile on my face, hoping against hope that they will never know what hearing that name just did to me.

                      “Of course, I’m okay. He is Mildred’s husband anyway, so why will he not be here?”

                      I spouted the words, but I knew – just as I have known all along – that I am still not over Andy. I will probably not be over Andy for a long, long time. Probably never. But he is now Mildred’s husband. They are now a family. And Mildred was – is – my friend. So it probably is the time to start learning how to deal with it.

                      Mildred hugged me, her tears starting to flow, and whispered for me alone, “Thank you. And for whatever it’s worth, I really am very sorry. I did not mean to hurt you.”

                      I hugged her back and prayed that she will not know how much it was hurting me – to pretend that it did not matter. To pretend that I am okay. To pretend that I have forgotten. Deep inside, I was asking myself if it was the right thing to do. And silently asking them how could they not know the truth – that I was still hurting inside...
                      Last edited by tonettesky3; 06-02-2011, 02:35 AM. Reason: some error in details

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        Chapter 2

                        CHAPTER 2

                        FOURTEEN YEARS AGO...

                        It should have been a wonderful day. I was bursting so much with the excitement of the news I wanted to give Andy. I could barely control myself and kept on thinking how Andy would be so happy to hear what I had to say. Which was probably the reason why I did not notice the signs...

                        Andy was so quiet. And he was avoiding looking at me. Alarm bells should probably have warned me when he started to speak so softly. But on that day of all days, nothing could have burst my bubble – except probably what Andy had to say to me.

                        “What did you say?” I was confused and did not know if I heard him correctly.

                        “I’m sorry, Lori,” he was not looking at me. “But I have to break it off with you. I don’t want to. But I have to.”

                        “W-why?” The back of my legs hit the stone bench, and I slowly slumped on the seat. There was a loud buzzing in my ears and I kept on thinking I was having a bad dream.

                        “I...” Andy sat down beside me and tried to hold my cold hands. I was starting to tremble, thinking it was taking too long for me to wake up from the bad dream.

                        “I’m sorry, Lori,” Andy was speaking so softly I started to wonder if he was really saying all those things. “But... something happened. Something I did not plan, but just happened. I don’t even know why I did it. Not when I love you so much.”

                        “I... I don’t understand,” I could barely get out the words. I was so confused, and afraid – of what Andy was trying to tell me.

                        “Lori, just believe when I tell you that I love you so much... and I never wanted to hurt you.” Andy was squeezing my hands so tight, but I did not notice. It was nothing compared to the squeezing pain in my heart. I could not breathe.

                        “But... but you are breaking up with me? How can you love me and break up with me?” The reality of what Andy was telling me hit me so hard. My voice was quivering, but I was starting to shout at him. “I don’t understand, Andy! What is it? Did I do something wrong? What is it?!!!”

                        I pulled my hands and stood up. I was trembling with rage, unheeded tears falling down my cheeks. I was breathing so hard it hurt. Or maybe, my heart was breaking and that was what was causing the pain.

                        “I’m sorry, Lori...” Andy’s voice was breaking, but I could not see him with all of my tears. I did not know if he was crying, if he was pleading, or even if he was looking at me. The pain was too much – and I was afraid I will break if I did not run away from him.

                        So I ran – not heeding his shouts. Never once looking back. I focused on keeping one foot in front of the other, not realizing that I was already running – blindly.

                        I never knew how long I ran. I never knew where I ran to. But hours later, I found myself at my house. I never knew how long I was standing there in front of our gate. Until my mother looked outside the window and saw me. I can remember her voice. I cannot remember what she said, but I remembered only one thing. I remembered she hugged me and took me inside. I remembered she put me to bed and held my hand until I could cry no more.

                        And the last thing I remembered was whispering to her that I never even got the chance to tell Andy that he was going to be a father...

                        Comment

                        Working...
                        X