حيدر القريشي
20-07-2008, 07:39 PM
He couldn't believe it. He looked down at the letter he held in his hands. He couldn't believe that she was gone. He never thought that she would leave him. But she had written the note and left him. She was gone.
He knew that things had been up with her lately. She was constantly trying to get his attention. But he didn't pay her much mind. He hated it when she got so clingy. She just didn't understand that he had things that had to be done. But he thought back to what she had wanted. Did she really want that much from him?
Things at the beginning were wonderful between them. But he had more time to play with her then. He loved to email her, to call her, to go see her. Not for any reason, just to say hi, get a quick kiss. And if he was lucky, a romp in the sack.
She was smart, funny, quick witted, shy, outgoing, and thrilling to be with. Quick to smile, quick to forgive and she doted on him all of the time. He loved being with her and found any chance to go see her, talk to her, tell her that he loved her.
When did things change? He wasn't sure. He knew that he had a stressful job. But it was one that he was good at and one that he loved. Bit by bit, it began to overtake his life so that he spent less and less time with her. His calls to her were less often, his emails to her non-existent. And maybe he would make it over to see her once a week.
"How come you can't take 5 minutes to come see me?" she would cry over the phone. She just didn't see how important he was and how much he loved his work.
He had been promising her that they would go away to spend some time together. But it seemed like he could never get away. He told her, "We can't do it now, work is crazy." But it never let up. It seemed like it was always crazy, and it always seemed that it was more important than anything else.
Now, looking down at the letter in his hand, he wished he had taken the time. He wished that he had called her more often. He wished that he had emailed her more often. He wished that he had seen her more often. He should have shown his love for her more. He did love her so, and now she was gone. She was out of his life.
He went to their special spot, where they lay together in the beginning. It had been a long time since he had taken her there. He knew that this place was sacred to him, and he knew that he would never be able to come back here again. Not without her. It was way too quiet and lonely without her. He let the memories rush over him like a wave. He missed her scent, her body, her sweet voice.
He got back in the truck, the letter still in his hand. He wouldn't let go of the last words she wrote to him. She was such a good writer constantly writing him emails, poetry and naughty stories. But these last words hit home since he knew that she would write him no more. He looked at the words again and cried some more. He should have paid more attention to her. Maybe she would still be here with him.
He drove in a blurry haze, clutching her letter tight. He parked his truck and walked up the hill. The ground was still fresh from where they had dug. He fell to his knees, the tears falling from his eyes.
"I should have paid more attention to you my love. Maybe then you would still be here with me. I should have called you, emailed you, loved on you more. I should have let you know just how special you are to me. Maybe then you would still be here, still in my arms, still happy with life. I am so sorry, so sorry for what you feel you had to do. I wish I had listened all those times when you cried. Now you are gone and I will hear you no more."
He looked back at the words that she had written. So hopeless as she told him goodbye. He could see where the blood had run from her wrists to the paper, and he laid his head down on her grave and closed his eyes
so
what is the AIM
He knew that things had been up with her lately. She was constantly trying to get his attention. But he didn't pay her much mind. He hated it when she got so clingy. She just didn't understand that he had things that had to be done. But he thought back to what she had wanted. Did she really want that much from him?
Things at the beginning were wonderful between them. But he had more time to play with her then. He loved to email her, to call her, to go see her. Not for any reason, just to say hi, get a quick kiss. And if he was lucky, a romp in the sack.
She was smart, funny, quick witted, shy, outgoing, and thrilling to be with. Quick to smile, quick to forgive and she doted on him all of the time. He loved being with her and found any chance to go see her, talk to her, tell her that he loved her.
When did things change? He wasn't sure. He knew that he had a stressful job. But it was one that he was good at and one that he loved. Bit by bit, it began to overtake his life so that he spent less and less time with her. His calls to her were less often, his emails to her non-existent. And maybe he would make it over to see her once a week.
"How come you can't take 5 minutes to come see me?" she would cry over the phone. She just didn't see how important he was and how much he loved his work.
He had been promising her that they would go away to spend some time together. But it seemed like he could never get away. He told her, "We can't do it now, work is crazy." But it never let up. It seemed like it was always crazy, and it always seemed that it was more important than anything else.
Now, looking down at the letter in his hand, he wished he had taken the time. He wished that he had called her more often. He wished that he had emailed her more often. He wished that he had seen her more often. He should have shown his love for her more. He did love her so, and now she was gone. She was out of his life.
He went to their special spot, where they lay together in the beginning. It had been a long time since he had taken her there. He knew that this place was sacred to him, and he knew that he would never be able to come back here again. Not without her. It was way too quiet and lonely without her. He let the memories rush over him like a wave. He missed her scent, her body, her sweet voice.
He got back in the truck, the letter still in his hand. He wouldn't let go of the last words she wrote to him. She was such a good writer constantly writing him emails, poetry and naughty stories. But these last words hit home since he knew that she would write him no more. He looked at the words again and cried some more. He should have paid more attention to her. Maybe she would still be here with him.
He drove in a blurry haze, clutching her letter tight. He parked his truck and walked up the hill. The ground was still fresh from where they had dug. He fell to his knees, the tears falling from his eyes.
"I should have paid more attention to you my love. Maybe then you would still be here with me. I should have called you, emailed you, loved on you more. I should have let you know just how special you are to me. Maybe then you would still be here, still in my arms, still happy with life. I am so sorry, so sorry for what you feel you had to do. I wish I had listened all those times when you cried. Now you are gone and I will hear you no more."
He looked back at the words that she had written. So hopeless as she told him goodbye. He could see where the blood had run from her wrists to the paper, and he laid his head down on her grave and closed his eyes
so
what is the AIM