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A Sometimes Beautiful Thing .. (standard:romance, 1326 words)
Author: Cryptic WritingsAdded: Nov 04 2004Views/Reads: 2980/1287Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
he keeps searching of his true love .. until ....
 



I've always loved you. Always. 

Even when I was youngest, I can remember wanting to play with you. But
you didn't live near me, so we couldn't. I didn't know where you lived, 
but I knew that if you could, you'd play with me. We'd play catch, or 
hide and seek, or whatever it was you wanted to play. I wanted to play 
your games. I wanted you to teach me how to play with you. 

So I played by myself. But you were there with me. I pretended that you
were with me. I never wanted to play with the other kids on my block. I 
had you. 

Mom always told me to go outside and play with the boys next-door. She
couldn't understand why I didn't want to play in Little League or join 
the Boy Scouts. She did not understand that I was with you. I didn't 
need anyone else. 

I wouldn't call it love at that point, though. I did not know what love
was. I just wanted to be with you very badly. I didn't have a name for 
that feeling. 

Later when the other boys at school started to pay more attention to
girls, I didn't feel so bad. They were beginning to understand what I'd 
been feeling for years. They needed a woman. And the girls needed a 
man. They started to match up and some of them are still together 
today. Love is so beautiful when it lasts. 

I say I didn't feel bad, but that was only at the beginning. Later they
would ask me if I had a girl. I'd say yes, and of course they would 
want to know who. I couldn't tell them. I had to make up some story 
about meeting you when I was at my grandparents' place for summer 
vacation. A long- distance thing. Some of the guys thought that was 
cool. Others called me a liar. I tried not to care. I tried not to 
worry. 

At night I would lie in bed and think about you. I wondered what you had
done that day. Did you like your school? What was your best subject? I 
always pretended that you'd be good at English. I pictured you writing 
me long letters about how much you loved me. You'd sign them with hugs 
and kisses. 

I wonder sometimes if waiting was hard for you. I wondered if maybe you
had a boyfriend. I knew you wouldn't be serious about him. You'd leave 
him the moment we could be together. I'd get a little jealous thinking 
about it, though. I wanted to be the first to touch you if I could. The 
first to kiss you and hold your hand. You would be my first. I didn't 
want anyone else. 

During college I noticed that there were fewer and fewer people still by
themselves. Everyone was pairing up. Some of the girls in my classes 
were wearing engagement rings. They were proud of their rings and would 
show them to everyone around them. One day I went to a jewelry store at 
the mall and looked at rings. I picked out a nice one for you. It was 
gold, with a small diamond in a silver setting. I didn't know what your 
ring size was, so I bought one that fit my smallest finger. I figured 
we could get it fixed later. I carried that ring with me all the time. 
I wanted to be able to give it to you as soon as we were together. 

After that day I thought about your hands a lot. I pictured myself
holding them and looking at the tiny wrinkles in the palms. I tried to 
imagine how small your hands might be. How fragile they might be. In my 
dreams you would touch my face with your tiny fingers. The fingertips 
would touch my lips and I would kiss them. 

I worked hard in college. I studied constantly because I wanted to get a
good job when I graduated. I didn't want our lives to suffer because I 
couldn't provide for us. After college I got a well-paying job with an 
insurance company. After saving for two years I put a down payment on a 
house. A nice two-bedroom house. It had a large kitchen and a great 
bedroom for the two of us. I just knew you would love it. When I moved 
into the house, I tried not to buy too much furniture. I didn't want to 
pick anything you wouldn't like later. Just the basics. 

Sometimes I would sit on the threshold of the front door. I would stare
down the street and watch every car that passed by. One day you might 


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