Share With Her The Sun REMIX

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We were standing there, sweaty hands serving as lifelines under the judgmental stares of my father. Gulping back fears and apprehension, my eyes rose from their spot in the floor to meet my father’s glare. Only, it wasn’t focused on me as I had anticipated, but on you. My father was staring at you, eyes beginning to bulge along with the throbbing vein on the side of his neck. Maybe tonight was not a night for introductions, but for goodbyes. I waited for your fingers to untangle from mine, for your footsteps to carry you back down the walkway, for that one last slam of a car door. It never came. Instead, you gripped tighter and held your ground.


I transferred my gaze to you, confused because anyone else would have run from my father’s glare. Instead, you were a soldier weathering out the storm and the chaos that was sure to follow. Your shoulders were tense, not able to decide whether they wanted to shrug up to you ears in mock protection, or loosen completely. I admired your shoulders for their undecided nature. Mine were simply slumping, no confidence that the night could evolve into anything but anger after such a bold announcement.


If I knew my father would be coming home early, I would have never let you take me out. I am more scared of losing him than I am of losing you because you have more than just me, while I only have him to fall back on. My father is the legs that hold up my ever wobbling life, while you are the carpenter sent in to fix it and make everything okay. If I were a table, and not a living, breathing woman, standing there with you would have been less stressful. Instead we all stood in silence. Why did you have to give such a passionate response? You knew my father did not like the idea of you dating me, why would you shove our continued relationship in his face?
We were standing there, sweaty hands and stuttering breath, before my father’s face began to return to its normal color. Expecting to be pulled back into the house, I closed my eyes. I dared not breathe, or move, or say a word. To my surprise, it was that moment that my father began to speak, and not with a shout as I anticipated.


“Are you going to treat her right, boy. That there is my only daughter, my pride and joy. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect her. Do you catch my drift?” Following his announcement, I opened my eyes and took in a shuddering breath.I wanted to say something, maybe reassure my father that you would never hurt me, that you loved me, something to appease his request. Of course you beat me to it, speaking with a conviction I had not heard from you before.


“Sir, your daughter means the world to me. All the stars are not enough for her. If I could, sir, I would share with her the sun.”

Created: Mar 08, 2014

Tags: prose

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