Saturday, February 14, 2009

A love story

fixed post

He was tall. Not that kind of slim with arms that lasted to the knees, but a firm tall, to cuddle against and to forget time.
His black hair was shining in the sun and a few curls popped up. They just did what they wanted to do.

People accepted him as a leader without doubting him one small minute.
Maybe his voice created enough distance between him and his peers, maybe his gestures, which were broad, accentuating his words in the right way.
They acted like a wall.
His insecurities were well hidden.

I was a classmate.
No one special.
But to him I had just that little extra touch of mystery that made him stare at me during the lessons.

That deep long observational look has always touched me, and at the schoolreunion I realised it still did. I melted like butter, and even the memory makes me smile and feel a bit insecure and vulnerable.

Because he was handsome girls swarmed around him like bees looking for honey.
He reacted polite on the giggles, invitations, and flirtations, and sometimes took shelter in a conversation with his neighbouring girl, who took the attention for granted. In her mind she owned him, and when we were with a group her voice sounded always just that little bit higher as a warning to stay away.

I did.

He didn't.

Soon we worked together at the schoolpaper.
Safe, with others around us, as if our noses were in the same direction just by accident, and our hands reached for the same paper without thought.
It was a long road of surprising discoveries of unknown talents.
Organising sports days, preparing meetings of the student board, schoolparties.

Whenever I was busy and looked up I saw his eyes resting on me and a small smile changing his face into a softness that was moving.

Before I knew, others already had drawn their conclusions.
The neighbouring girl told me he was hers and I would never have him, my gram gave me new earrings and some hairpins and scarfs that made me look even more radiating.

But he visited me at home, and we walked hand in hand through the woods on sunny spring afternoons and warm summermornings.

We felt at home with each other, felt lifted out of ourselves when we had to accomplish things, and together we were far more than just two people.

Our friends enjoyed our happiness and thought we were one of those rare couples who fall in love and never ever separate.

It was on a summer morning.
The sun was warm and the fields green.
We were near my favorite museum, on the grounds where he played in the woods when he was young.
The horses were grasing and the birds sang around us.

He asked me to marry him, and I said yes.

For hours we sat on the small bench, drowned in our happiness.
We both knew it was the best decision of our lives.

Then he left to study in another town.
We saw each other in the weekends and counted down the days until one of us finished the studies and we could live together all week.

And then he didn't return anymore.

Weeks, months of silence.
His parents called me to ask if we had problems, but all I could say that he left in happiness and freedom to the future and that nothing was threatening our happiness, but his absence.

After three painful years I literally bumped against him in the hall of the university building were I worked.
I was shocked, my loneliness was broken just like the coffee cup on the floor.
When his arms stretched to me to catch me falling I just trusted gravity and went away with the same firm secure steps we used when walking the long corridors of school.
I didn't look back, until a mutual friend caught me in his arms and guided me to a far away table in the corner of the large university restaurant.
"He still loves you too", he said and tried to calm my trembling hands.

A few weeks later I was visiting the love of my life.
Between the books on the shelves I found a package with a birthday wish, 3 years old.
"This is for you, because you're you", was written inside the cover.

His smile rested on me again, the familiar feeling of his hands on my shoulder, on my hair.

"Wait for me 3 years, until I'm ready with my studies."
I saw the women moving past us, trying to catch a glimpse of his face.
"You need to be free", I said when I showed the ticket to the busdriver, and then the past, with him wearing a raincoat, just moved away. The steady ticking of the rain on the busroof was the only sound left.

He never came.

When I saw him entering the hall at the schoolreunion I forgot all the hundreds of people around me.
He spread his arms and smiled and I just ran to the safest place on earth.
Just for a short moment.

Tears in our eyes, asking ourselves if we should have waited. Images of our families in our heart. His children and mine, his wife playing cello.
"You're still dancing?", he whispered, and I smiled.

While others told him he was the most successful of us all now he's one of the most prominent businessmen in the world, traveling long hours to meetings, living at places we'll never be, his hand rested softly at my back, or made the broad wellknown movements, still impressing others.
I was the same girl grown into a woman, he was the same boy grown into the man I expected him to be.

Every time when I looked up, I saw his smile resting on me.
His deep brown eyes, the soft lines in his face.

Suddenly he was gone.

"He left", my best friend told me, "without saying a word to anyone.
He had tears in his eyes."

Time is passing.
We're growing old.

I know where his photo is on internet and once in a while I stare at his face, like he stared at mine, all those long, long years ago.

On reply to questions:
yes, it's true! It's part of my life.

THIS week's theme/prompt was:
TAILS - "A Love Story"

Want to take part too?
Click the logo.

Valentine graphic made by me with tubes from Outlaw by Design.


  1. Beautiful...

    BTW something for you on my blog...

  2. Oh my gosh! Was this you? That would be a horrible thing to face.

  3. How absolutely poignant and beautiful. A love such as that has made me almost speechless. And that doesn't happen often, I can assure you!

  4. I was quickly reading through the lines wanting to to know the ending. It's a beautiful story but yes, heartbreaking.

    Btw, remember you requested me to write about breast cancer in men? I finally had time to do it. Sorry it took so long. :D

    Breast Cancer in Men

  5. Laane,
    Is this your story or just fiction? It cetainly is moving, the emotions are strong. Such lovely language and style, I think you are ready to write a novel.


    Lazar Thobias

  6. take care of your hear. don't let it be break so easily. It's very important.

  7. Simply romantic & heartfelt!
    Have a very nice ~Valentine's Day~


  8. Very romantic and beautiful. Everyone should love like that for keeps!

  9. beautifully-written!

    could not help but comment

    I think love stories don't necessary have happy endings though

    but they would always make us better

  10. Beautiful Story, hope you would have had a lovely valentine day.


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