Friday 9 May 2014

Depth over Definition.

Thirteen year old Ann Marie held John's hand now. Holding hands and lying with their backs on the green grass of her father's garden looking at the blue and white sky and discussing the week's events was their Sunday ritual. Ann Marie sighed dreamily. She loved John. Every possible way you could love another being. She thought of how young she was and how confusing it all was.

She thought of how they got so close. She had always known him as the guy next door till the day she was at his place for his sister's birthday and she teased him about the huge poster of an exotic white girl on his room wall till they both laughed about it. That day ended up with him kissing her forehead and both of her cheeks.

She had spent all her life running from every good thing before it left her. Her sad eyes held the tears of the stories that tell why she is so broken inside. She had never let anyone hold her hand before now. And now there was John and she was stuck.

She couldn't leave him, not when he looked at her the way he did. The way he did that made her feel like melting chocolate. So she was stuck, blushing like those ignorant shallow girls like she didn't know any better. She wanted to be all woman for him, to look pretty. She wanted him to see her more than the plain girl next door. She loved him enough to allow what they had exist without being defined. She loved him enough not to fight for what she wanted so bad. Defining things always brought along its bag of problems. She wanted him to be forever. They had it all planned out. He was to be her best friend and her daughter's god father. They were going to grow old together and laugh at how they were once young and naive.

She loved him too much to fear how much it would break her when he was gone. But she was going to be okay being afraid if only he would be here the whole time being afraid with her. She remembered his word's this morning "Am always here. Trust me. Always."

She loved enough to trust.

She didn't know how to tell him or make him understand that she loved him too much that it hurt. That every time he held her hand, she saw their beautiful future. That he brightened up her life like the stars twinkle in the dark skies at night. That she couldn't stop thinking about him. That he had become a part of her, growing in the most overwhelming way. But then she wanted their's to be a story no one told so it didn't have to end badly.

She looked at him now lying beside her and smiled and held his hand a bit tighter.

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