The note unfolded, and familiar writing leapt off the page. It seemed to speak, as if the writer was really there saying it as she had so many times before.
"I love you very
much. I have since
the first moments
of making love to
you and I will
continue to love you
forever. No matter
what you do or don't
do you make me
happier than I could
have ever dreamed of
before I met you
because the thought
of being with you
forever is worth
everything to me.
No matter what, I
will stay by your
side... Til death do us
part. (heart)
ps. You should probably
throw this out after
you've read it"
The voice was soft, passionate and beautiful, as was the woman who owned it. She was the meaning of life itself. Every thought, every action, everything was for her. She had said she would never leave, and it had surely been the most beautiful truth.
But now, there was only confusion. The letter spoke, but the writer had indeed left. She was lost forever from words and sight, but yet she was still the world. She had left, despite the note, and all the many reassurances. Memories drifted, slowly coming forth, memories of life and happiness, and later of pain and hurt. Reality came back swiftly. There were not memories of pain and hurt, but feelings themselves. Memories struggled from reach, hiding in the depths of confusion. She had said she would not leave, but she is gone. And there was no force to drive her away but her own free will. Love had not been enough for her. What was enough was totally uncertain. How can this note be the truth, when reality contradicts it. Yet all that the woman said was true.
Confusion settles away into memories of better times, and pain at the loss of those times. A tear drops slowly, drifting softly and beautifully, like the lady had been. But the tears were here now, and the lady was gone. Then the tear hit the paper, and slowly began to dry. Soon it would follow hope, happiness, returned love, friendship, peace, and passion. Soon the tears would be gone. Just like the world.
Thoughts rattled softly, almost moaning in sorrow. A tear trickled slowly down one cheek. The world seemed to spin slowly out of reach and out of sight, as a memory but no more. Outside there were people walking by, laughing, crying, smiling, frowning, but few were the same. Once there was one. Tears of sorrow and lost love poured down her cheeks as well. Thoughts of shared feelings and emotions seemed to bring the world closer. It spun and slashed. Quickly it returned to a dim shadow.
The tear on the paper was almost dry now. A small red drop of life joined it. It would not leave so quickly or easily. But eventually even it would disappear.