The phone rings for the seventh time
My eyes open slowly and the room drifts into my consciousness
I sit up and reach for it 
But it stops on the eighth ring and I'm left sitting here with my arm outhed
like a puppet on a string I smile at the thought and the flutter of truth
behind it I let my arm fall back down to the chair Reluctantly I get up and
walk to the window It's a beautiful day The sun is shining and I can hear birds
singing in the trees I wish it were raining  There's no reason to go out unless
it's raining I turn away from the window and walk into the kitchen Out of habit
I reach for the refrigerator door But then I remember that I left it on it's
side when I went to sleep a few hour ago I walk into the next room and close my
eyes as I remember the vow I made last night Never to enter this room again I
press my hands into my eyes so that I can see nothing the room has to show meI
start to laugh thinking of myself standing here like this Then my knees buckle
and I fall back against the wall  I keep thinking to myself 
        I can't look at them, I can't...
"remember." I whisper 
I bring my hands away and stand up
The first thing I see are the words on the wall
Written on a night much like last night
I walk over to my garden and stroke the flowers gently
Remembering in each the days they were given to me
I then sit in my chair and look at the typewriter and the great journal
So much has happened in the past months
So much I know I should be documenting
It's always that way though
Whenever we are apart nothing matters
Nothing is important enough to write down
I even reach out and almost touch the keys
But my hand will only go so far
I get up from the chair and begin searching for my old yearbook
I find it and turn to the only marked page
And there is her picture
To this day I will admit that it is an awful and outdated picture
But she's never given me another one 
Though I'm sure she would have if I had asked 
The picture reminds me of that year
That year that which was both awful and wonderful depending on how many times
you blink when thinking about it I have always loved her I don't believe I ever
had any control over that All I could ever do was denie it to her and myself at
every moment that it mattered And all that ever caused was pain for both of us
I close the yearbook and put it back on the floor Then I walk over to the shelf
and pick up the box Slowly I open it and look over it's contents  The day comes
back to me like a wave The plastic rod The penny The gold piece of packing
string I close my eyes and I can almost taste her lips on mine It all happened
so quickly When the memory finaly folds into itself I am left in the room once
more I pull the razor out of my pocket and place it in the box I put the box
back on the shelf and walk out of the room Then I walk into the bedroom and
look into the mirror The slashes on my arm remind me again of the razor I stand
there looking at myself  I want to scream
        Why can't you call her
        Why can't you talk to her
        That's all
        Why?

But instead of screaming I walk closer to the mirror and rest my head against 
it
Theres little point in screaming at myself
I've no reply to scream back
"I love you." I say say instead of screaming
After a few more moments I walk out of the bedroom and go back to the window
The sun is still shining and I can hear children playing in the playground 
I still wish it were raining
Perhaps it will rain tomorrow
Or maybe the next day

5 responses total.

How sad...Are you published?

Very moving...sigh...but wonderful.

Very deep, you have to look closely for details or you'll miss them.
Stupid girl, she should feel flattered.

what made you come here on june 2?

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