text: I don't particularly like to write but I've been told it's something I'm good at, and I'd like to get more involved with it. Anyways, here's something I wrote a few days ago at about 2AM. I proof read it once and didn't really take the time to give it my 100% but I still think it's worth sharing with you guys! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I remember when I first laid my eyes upon her. Come to think of it, it really isn’t all that hard not to. She had the vibrant emerald colored eyes of a treasure filled ocean, a smile that would be considered the eighth wonder of the world by most, the attitude of a Queen and the beauty of a shooting star that would send goose pumps shooting up your neck. She was powerful. Just looking at her she would carry your heart away like the strongest ocean current, and fill you with more energy than five thousand suns could produce in a billion years. Being in her presence felt almost ‘other worldly’. As if she was specifically built to make any man who was around her feel as if she were made of gold. I had never felt so ‘out-of-touch’ with reality when I was with her. I remember her cute little laughs that had her face scrunched up with her eyes swelled shut from the sheer amount of tears they themselves gave life to. The kind that would captivate an entire audience to laugh along with her no matter the situation. She was just like that. She could turn anyone's mood around in a heartbeat. It didn’t matter how upset you were about something, it was like a law of some sorts. A law of an emotional type of physics. It just happened, and nobody knew why. Not even me. There was so many ways she could go about doing it that I can’t pinpoint exactly what it was. The way she moved, the way she carried herself. That was enough to make anyone feel safe. It can’t help but remind me about those every so often times I came home from work, completely miserable. I would walk through the front door and set my keys on the counter and she would automatically know something was wrong, as if she had that instinct. She would just want me to hold her in my arms while she asked me about my day. She’d ask about everything. The drive on in, my lunch, my boss, everything. Never once would she talk about herself or her own day. Her entire focus was on me and my own. She never put herself above anybody else. I could come home, pissed off at the world and within mere minutes we would be sitting there on the couch, arms clenched so tightly around one another you would think we were living magnets, laughing. Just laughing. Tears of happiness and joy would flow out of each other's eyes without knowing the reason behind it. That was so strange having a mood so negative dissolve within seconds and putting itself together in ways I’ve never felt before. She was magical, and despite all of that..sometimes I didn’t let it happen. I can’t understand why. No matter how much I think about it, no matter how many times my mind runs in circles in the middle of the night, I just can’t understand it. Sometimes, I would get home earlier than she would. I would go straight to bed and pretend to be asleep, well knowing she would be home in just a handful of minutes. I would just lay there in bed, still as a statue. I could hear her come into the door with a moment of silence, as if she was searching for me. She would walk through the kitchen, the living room and finally, into the bedroom. I could feel her scrunch up next to me every night and I would feel her warm, always minty fresh breath fill my ear, my heart, and my soul with those three simple words yet so complex words, “I love you.”. And then.. she would just sit. She would sit there with the light on and just stare. She would stare for five -- sometimes ten minutes. I could tell she was hoping I would ‘wake up’, just so she could talk to me. Just so she could ask me about everything and anything. Just to hear my voice. But I didn’t. I never did, and I don’t know why. I would just let her stare in a stabbing painful silence. My heart would thump more intense with each beat, almost as if was trying to tell me, “What are you doing? You love this girl, remember?” Maybe I was tired, maybe I was stressed. Maybe I just didn’t want to. After what felt like centuries, she would kiss me on the cheek, turn out the light, and go to sleep.The ironic part was that afterwards, I couldn't. I would lay there, wondering why I didn’t take five minutes out of my day just to tell her how much I love her. Yet, I would do it time and time again. I used to wake up to the smell of fresh bacon and eggs tickling it’s way up my nose and floating down my throat. Just as I would open my eyes, I would get attacked with a relentless aerial assault of her soft kisses. My eyes, cheeks, nose, chin, neck, everything would be bombarded by her lips. She knew that I was a grouch in the morning. However, I can’t recall a single time where I wasn’t the happiest man in the world to be waking up to her kissing assaults, her symphonies in the shower, or her mouth watering breakfasts. It’s a completely different feeling now. I wake up now drenched in sweat, eyes burning, with an alarm clock ringing in my ear letting me know that the nightmare still isn’t over yet. It never will be. Not for me. That night is burned into my eyes with the fire racing down my throat and the sulfur pumping through my veins. She had always been the one to cash that paycheck and selflessly spend most of it on me. A new watch, shoes, cell phone cases, video games, you name it. I was the selfish one. I would find a reason to buy myself whatever it is that I didn’t need instead of bothering to get her a box of chocolates or a nice necklace, just to show how much I loved and cared for her. I hadn’t gotten her flowers in months. Now here I am, laying them upon her casket with every memory we ever had together smashing into my chest like a tsunami made up of pain and sorrow. I remember when I first laid my eyes upon her.