A tight embrace and a soft kiss

She sits hunched over, legs drawn up close to her body, with her arms wrapped tight about her knees, her long hair draped about her: hiding her like a shield, quivering with her sobs. Her bent head rests on her arms, and the worn blue jeans soak up the tears that run down her cheeks.

She breathes in a deep shaky breath, trying desperately to calm herself, but it doesn’t work. She feels so numb and yet there’s a pain deep in her chest, a sharp, consistent ache. She lifts her head and leans her wet chin on her forearm, so that a long lock of golden russet hair  falls over her shoulder and caresses her wet cheek. She brushes it away and looks around, unseeing, remembering sweet things that have been, causing her small delicate face to contort in pain again.

Tiny, salty droplets squeeze out of the corners of her eyes as she slowly lowers her head, the tears rolling down her cheeks darken the faded jeans once more.

‘Why?’she wonders.‘Why should one person walking out of my life hurt so much?’. She tries reasoning with herself, ‘It doesn’t matter,  It wasn’t meant to be, I didn’t really love him anyway?’, but it is useless!

Great wracking sobs shake her slight form, ‘Ít does matter!, It was meant to be!, I do really love him!...How couldn’t I?’. Just thinking about it hurt like hell. ‘Will he ever hold me tight in his arms again, or kiss my lips so softly like he always did?’.

She feels so weak.Her red rimmed green eyes sting. Her whole body seems to ache. The pain in her chest is worse and she wonders ‘How long can it possibly hurt like this?, Does he hurt too?’. Her stomach aches and she longs for fresh air. ‘That might help my body feel better at least,’ she thinks bitterly.

She slowly straightens up and rises unsteadily to her feet, swaying a bit, as she looks down at herself. Her red shirt is crumpled and stained and her old faded blue jeans have a few new holes. She sighs and rakes a hand through her long tangled curls.

Wincing at the knots she looks around for her bag, spying it under her long black crushed-velvet coat. ‘I’ve always loved these long laced sleeves,’ she thinks absent mindedly as she snatches her bag from under the coat and starts rifling through it.Then in exasperation she tips it out in a heap on her grandmother’s ancient Celtic rug.

Extracting her silver encrusted lighter and packet of Escort Red from the pile, she heads for the door, stepping over obstacles in her way. With a few shakes, a curse and a shove, the old door rattles open to the night.

The sky is alight with stars, the moon, a silver ball, is just rising. She smells the sweet moist scent of rain on the breeze and almost smiles. She loves it when it rains and its scent had always made her feel better, though she doubts anything could right now.

As She steps out onto the dew covered grass, their icy spiked stems sting her bare feet and she quickens her step, her long curls caress her waist as she walks. As she reaches the old willow tree a few yards away she parts the long hanging veil of branches and enters the dappled security of its confines.

She lights a cigarette and leans back against the rough bark of its trunk. She gazes up through the branches at the stars, deep in thought.

The pain in her chest has not eased or lessened, nor the lifeless dull feeling that blocks her senses. She paces around the clearing under the willow’s swaying branches, mumbling sweet nothings he had whispered in her ear.

She angrily stubs out her cigarette on the wet grass, ‘So much for the fresh air,’ she mumbles as she listens to it sizzle in the damp earth.

‘It’s my fault’ she thinks, ‘I should have let him know how I felt, is it too late?’. She  gives up, closing her eyes tight, her long, dark, curling lashes shadow her pale cheeks.‘Thinking about it like this isn’t going to help,’ she reasons to herself.

Then she hears footfalls coming slowly down the drive. Long, men’s strides.

She opens her eyes to darkness and pale shadows, the moon has abandoned the night to the stars with pale swirling clouds hiding the glowing orb and its light.

‘Who could it be at this hour?’ she wonders glancing at her glowing wristwatch that shows 4:14 am.

The sound is getting closer, no more than a few feet away. ‘Who could it be?’.Then she knows instinctively. She feels him. As she always could when he was near.

Then everything is bathed in the moon’s silvery glow, as the whispy clouds pass and he stops in front of her. His gaze catches hers through the willow’s dappled veil, their eyes reflect the moonlight, hiding nothing as they stare at each other silently. His tall broad shouldered form stands very still.

Then he comes forward, the leafy boughs parting for him in the breeze, as he stops to stand barely inches from her and drops to his knees at her feet. Wrapping his arms tight about her waist, he lays his head on her breast, his warm breath fanning the curls that hang over her shoulder.

The empty pain in her chest lifts as new tears come and she holds him tight, lacing her fingers in his dark hair, as she slides down in front of him. Looking into each others eyes, their lashes sparkling with un-shed tears as green eyes meet brown, all the unsaid words seem needless as they smile just before their lips meet in a soft kiss.

By Vanessa and Sue Andersson

a few yeas ago...