Your Last Love

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Dear Henry,

It’s been a long time. It’s been a very long time. You called once or twice, but I could not bring myself to talk to you. Now, I’ve heard the news, and I need to say my peace. Maybe, before you go, you could now understand me.

It was a beautiful summer, and we had our good times. We held hands, and we laughed and talked. It was a chance meeting that I did not regret. At first, but then we were invited to Ocean City, Maryland. And there were so many signs, omens that I should not go. The tires being slashed in Elmont were to be the last, but I still went. I went for you, and the trip was a disaster. So were you.

Because our tires got slashed, we had to stay at a friend’s house for that night. First thing in the morning, our other two friends returned home. They said not to go on this trip. Something didn’t want us to go, but you refused to listen. You took the cab with me, and we went to the mechanic, who fixed the car. And then off we went.

After we got there, we spent the rest of that day with the other friends. Then, the next day came, and they packed up. They checked out, and we were charged for a third night instead of two. I don’t know if they scammed you, or if you were listening with half an ear like you usually do. But we were stuck with a third night, so they all left. And we stayed, but we didn’t hold hands or laugh and talk. You were distant, and I was worried.

The next day came. You were up before me. I didn’t think twice about it. I thought we’d get breakfast, but you already ate. I got dressed, and you waited. And then we had the talk. Well, you talked, and I listened. And the whole time that you talked, you ripped my heart out of my chest, leaving me with nothing to say.

And then you wanted to leave. You packed up, waiting impatiently for me, and we hurried to check out. I was so angry at you. You said your peace and was fine with that, but I wasn’t fine. That was why I stood in the street, waiting for that light to turn while you stood on the curb, and that white car came zooming by, knocking me backward. And you… You just stood there and didn’t care. You just said, let’s go, and you took me home. And you expected me to be friends with you after that?

This is why I never talked to you until now. I hope you understand. If you don’t, then you don’t.

Good-bye, Henry.


Your Last Love

Created: Mar 12, 2014

Tags: story, dialogue, prose

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