Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Our Picture



Our Picture

It’s ten o’clock at night and the stars and the full moon are glowing brightly over the fog outside but the only light in my dim bedroom is from my laptop computer. I’m on Facebook, just staring at a picture of us; the black and white picture from last summer, when you and I were dancing. We were neighbors for a short time and I was the young girl who tagged along with you everywhere and who you fondly called Sis. You took me to the town’s dance as a friend one starry night. Happy music boomed around us and the smell of cotton candy was in the air. My party dress was blue, which I knew was your favorite color and you wore a green shirt and jeans, and your smile seemed more breath-taking that night. My stomach filled with butterflies when you took my hand and my mind was spinning wildly like the lights were that night. The dance floor was crowded with many faces but all I saw was you. You just had twirled me around and our huge smiles were frozen in time. That night, I felt like your princess and that magical memory will always be engraved in my mind. I giggle to myself.

Then I remember the month after the picture was taken. You had to move away for school. On the day that you left, it was dark and raining heavily, just adding more sadness in my heart. Before you got into your truck, you hugged me tightly, as I cried in your arms. In my ear, you sweetly said, “Don’t cry Sis, I’ll be back…promise.” Then you gave me a piece of paper with your e-mail address on it and slowly drove away. I quietly cried myself to sleep for weeks. It just was hard not seeing your smile, not hearing your voice everyday. My heart begins to miss you and before I know it, I begin to talk to our picture, rambling like a lunatic. I say, “Patrick, I know that in your eyes that I’m just the girl who had the biggest crush on you, the silly friend who idolized you as if you were some kind of celebrity but to me, you were amazing. It was so much fun to hang out with you. I’m glad that we met that hot July. You were funny and kind. Even though I still talk to you daily online, I miss you more than you can ever know. Even though I won’t admit it to your face, I wish that you would notice me in more of an amorous light but I want you to be happy. I just know that the woman who gets you will the luckiest woman alive!” 

Then, you come online and instant message me, saying, “Hi Sis, what are you doing?”
 


“Hi Patrick, nothing much, just checking my e-mail,” I lie, our picture still on the screen. I then begin to pray, as the moon look more brighter and closer somehow, that I’ll see your warm, big smile in person once again.



©Lena Holdman, all rights reserved 2011

This is a fictional story inspired by the song above and by an old crush. :) 

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