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    Just to let all y'all kno, this isn't exactly a specific character kinda story. Instead, it's more of a...plug any charrie in that u wish!
    Alrighty everyone....I kno that I haven't been posting in the other stories of mine, but I PROMISE I'm working on them! I'm trying to finish the whole of LwT in Microsoft Word and trying to catch up with my other FF too. This just came to be suddenly...so yea. But no worries...I WILL be posting the other's soon!! xD


    The Object of My Affection


    The greatest thing in life is to love, and be loved in return, though I wouldn’t have known that, as I’d never been in love before. I’d often dreamed while floating among the flowers and clouds of the afternoon’s parties that set me into delicate daydreams of how love would find me, and of who it would be with. Many a fantasy of strong men with sparkling white smiles and thick hair that I could endlessly run my hands through as we passionately kissed underneath the oak tree, the both of us shadowed lightly by the golden setting sun brightened even the brightest of days. Of course, to be in love, that would mean that the one that I loved would have to love me in return. There, right there was the problem. No one ever paid any attention to me, much less interest. Fire burned within the depths of my soul time after time again as each summer fling, each romantic turned out to be shallow and one only looking for a one night stand. But you see, I am so much more then just a one-time deal, much less one sealed with a heavy moan of ecstasy. I am one that needs to be cared for, one that desires and yearns for a gentle touch, someone to stare into my eyes and whisper to me sweet words of love, words of true, passionate, forever lasting love.

    I suppose I should start from the very beginning. My name isn’t important now, just as many things that were on the top of the list seem to float down below even the worst of things. Places, however, are the most essential at this point, as that is where this story truly begins. It was the beginning of the end, the point at which things had just begun in the life of me, and then floated along to pit holes. At the highest beginnings, I felt as if I was floating, flying with the very angles and oxygen that filled my life. And it always happened the same way; several most unbelievable events would happen, such as romantic strolls upon the soothing warmth of the beach’s sand, walking into the sunset as we sipped on our favorite wine. Others would begin heavily with everything in the world to go wrong, and then at the end of the night, the object of my affection at that specific time would pull me into a sweet, gentle kiss, sealing the night off just as the sun rose over the hills behind my small cottage house.

    Intense moments would be shared between us, before I stopped, asking them first to tell them they loved me. And that’s always when it ended. They would look at me as if I had suddenly turned into a human eating elephant and leave me, sobbing between the rough bed sheets of my own home. Until one night, everything changed. Most people wouldn’t have seen it coming, I know I certainly didn’t, but once the invisibility of it all opened itself into the world, everything suddenly became incredibly clear. The clouds that had overwhelmed me, suffocated me to no possible living standard finally lifted, clearing my airways and sending me into the strongest of flights ever taken before. Songbirds and animals of gentle love would surround me like the dwarfs did for Snow White in her time of true affection. No more would I have to worry about silent nights spent staring at the black ceiling of my cottage, no longer would light and fluffy dresses of my friend’s happy wedding days suffocate me underneath eternal unhappiness and torture. Finally, it was my turn to live, love, and let myself be happy for the first time.

    This love was pure, even the blind would be able to see that, and days were spent like no others. When I was a little girl, my dream date had been with my real life Ken, as I was Barbie with her perfect shoes, hair, houses, and cars. My Ken would lift me into a most desirable date, taking me home in the end hand-in-hand as we professed our love for one another. The evening would have been spent in expensive restaurants and sophisticated ballrooms as my lover and I held each other dearly. As it turns out, no one dances in ballrooms anymore without it being some kind of indictment of a new Queen of England. These days, a cup of coffee and a stroll in the park at midnight is the Barbie and Ken dream date. No longer will young girls play with the enchantments of large castles, princes that save you from tall towers, dragons hiding you from the world around you, and even professions of love despite the two lovers’ families dueling over nonsense, all of that is long done and over with, and all simply because that’s not how the life of two who hold each other so dearly that their very being depends on it rolls out. I’ve realized that many things that I once thought nothing other than are now silly and only life in the world of pretend. He brought it out of me, though. He told me the way the world really turns; he showed me the way of life. My parents were never there to do the job, and so he did.

    My life soon depended on each tender kiss that quickly turned into a heated session of love making. Every fiber in my being awaited the fate of us each rise of the sun and each downfall of the moon. I had fallen, and I had fallen badly. I remember clearly that the first time we had met I had barely paid any attention to him, as I had been in a foul, non-characteristic mood of which pulled me into a depth that only a giant bowl of my Aunt’s famous caramel and chocolate chunk homemade ice cream could even handle. He had eyed me with concern in the coffee shop of which I sat drinking a latte and nibbling on a cinnamon roll in self pity. He pulled me out of though, and offered to pay for my snack. I thanked him, and everything seemed to be in auto drive from there. Each day just barely after sunset we would meet at our coffee shop and sit in the booth by the door. He would order nothing but a small tea and I would ask for a large coffee, black with a small bun filled with cinnamon sweetness. He would take chunks off of my roll without even having to ask as I would sip some of his tea every now and then, just to guess which flavor he had picked that day, as it was always different. I came to depend on those meetings and live off of his voice echoing throughout my head each night as he whispered goodnight before seeing me off to my cottage. What more could a woman such as I ask for?

    It wasn’t until one afternoon that things…changed, just as they had before, within the blink of an eye. It was sprinkling outside, just the way he loved it, and so I was in a most amazing mood. The bells of the coffee shop door rang lightly as I entered and sat at the booth that we always met up at. The first thing that had shaken my was that he wasn’t already there, waiting for me with our orders, half of my bun already swallowed. I figured he had just been held up walking through the rain that he loved so dearly, and so I decided to order for us and wait for him.

    And so I waited, and waited, and waited, but there was no sign of him. Finally, the owner of the shop walked silently to the booth that I had taken up for the last 4 ½ hours and whispered something about closing time. I didn’t exactly hear her though, as I was still staring at the entrance door, waiting to see his ever so familiar head of strawberry blonde hair bouncing in, his face in a huge, toothy smile.

    I walked home in a daze that night, never speaking aloud or even turning on and off the lights as I walked into my cozy home. I simply unlocked the door, walked strait through, dropped my purse and my work bag by my bed stand and plopped onto my bed. I didn’t even bother to change into pajamas or even draw the 2000 stitch covers that he had given me for my birthday; it had been almost a year ago that he had given it to me, and I loved them dearly, simply because it was a gift from the heart; his heart.

    The next morning, I awoke with him sitting by my bed, the morning light seeping in through the windows with his head down. His hands were clasped together and laced, which meant something was dearly wrong, especially since he hadn’t met me the night before. I sat myself up, and his head turned towards mine as he heard the ruffling of the sheets. I asked him how he had gotten in, and he quietly told me that the door was unlocked. The second thing that I had noticed that would soon led to the near future was his voice. It was dry and raspy, and filled with…something that I had never heard from him before; sadness, maybe?

    He stared at me with such passion, I almost immediately started crying, not even knowing what was yet to be pushed into my life, as well as his. He told me softly that the only reason in the world that he would’ve left me there with not so much as a letter would be if something truly terrible had happened. And that was the third thing, that right there. The truth was, he HAD left me there without so much as a letter, he HAD left me wondering about where he could’ve possibly been. Then and there, I started crying. I let everything that I had thought possible roll out onto the sleeve of his shoulder as he held me dear. I still had yet to discover what the news was, all that I could be certain of was that it was life changing. The moment my heavy tears turned into soft hiccupping, he explained everything.

    He told me that he had been visiting the doctor’s office the day before, going in for having headaches and sudden wooziness. The words flowing from his lips explained that it was all side affects of having some deathly disease that was known to take the lives of people, even the young ones. The sunlight from the window suddenly seemed clouded over and depressed. His forever lasting smile was no longer on his face, as I so dearly wished it was. I begged and pleaded with him to tell me that it was all a terrible joke and that he would be with me forever, just like we had planned. He only shook his head heavily at me, unable to then make eye contact. My chest heaved violently as I tried to suck in oxygen. The air of the room had seemed to disappear within the few seconds that he told me of his condition. The doctors said that there wasn’t a name for it, but whatever it was, it was certain to weaken him day by day until eventually, his last breath was spent.

    Have you ever heard the sound of a heart breaking? It starts as an eerie silence, filling every corner and every crook in the body. Then, it slowly starts to come out, revealing itself in heart wrenched cries. My body shook with tears as I clung to his shirt, pleading him to stay with me, to never leave me, that I loved him and that I wouldn’t be able to live without him. The sound of heartbreak is a sound like no other. It is a terrible, ugly and disguised sound that could easily tear apart fifty story buildings. But that is only if it is heartbreak that begins at the top. If it comes from deep within, from the center core of the heart, is it worse. The man before me suddenly seemed so different. After all the wonderful and blissful nights spent together under the half crescent moons of the peaceful France winds, everything shattered and broke before me. Not ever had something so terrible happened, much less to someone who never deserved it. Tears overcame my entire body as I held onto him, but he just pulled me away, large streams of warm wetness falling from his own pain filled golden orbs. He told me that the end was coming, but I didn’t hear him, I didn’t WANT to hear him. After all that the two of us had seen and lived through with one another over the last two completely oblivious years of our young lives, never once had we ever thought about what might happen if they other wouldn’t live to see the remainder of their lives.

    At first, after his voice stopped his story and began shaking as mine did, I yelled at him. I screamed and bellowed for him to remember what all of our plans were. Bawling, I reminded him in harsh tones that we had been planning to get married, have our own little cottage in the mountains somewhere where we would be able to live happily ever after with children of our own. I shrieked to him to understand that he couldn’t leave me, he couldn’t leave us… The entire time, he simply sat in the same chair as he did when I awoke, keeping his head down and with his hands locked and interlaced. My breathing was hard and rigid, just as anyone’s would’ve been after yelling on the outside while silently pleading on the inside. Eventually, he left, tears of so many different emotions letting loose from the both of us.

    A few days later, we both met at out coffee shop, just as if nothing had happened at all. His brightly shining eyes had dulled to a mere sparkle now, but his smile always remained. Inside, as I watched him slowly fade from what I had grown to love and cherish so much, I realized that he was doing exactly that, fading from the world…and from me. Of course, he couldn’t help it, I blame it on the sickness, but we never spoke about it. We were both too afraid to bring it up, for if we did, maybe it would bring it on faster… It was raining outside, just the way he loved it, and today, he couldn’t bring attention to out small café table to even share my roll with me. Instead, he simply stared out of the large wall taken window, barely smiling as he watched each and every drop of rain hit the road and splash ever so slightly upon its impact. He looked around at me and then at the rain as if he knew something I didn’t, as if he could tell that something…‘life changing’ would happen.

    The two of us finished our small snacks in silence before we stood to leave. He wrapped a gentle yet strong arm around my waist, keeping the warmth of his body close to mine as we strolled through the wet weather. I was in mid sentence, talking and smiling about how he had always loved the rain, when it happened. He looked at me with but a gleam in his eye before trying to catch his sudden raspy breath and falling to the ground. I screamed, and half caught him, before the impact of it was too harsh on his suddenly fragile body. His golden eyes started rolling towards the back of his head, and his tanned and brightly colored skin began to fade with the rest of his color. My eyes grew wide, it was happening. I began shaking, tears once more bridging my eyelids before falling to frame my cheeks. I held him up, as I was now sitting on the wet sidewalk with him, the brisk air hitting the two of us lightly, whipping my extremely long hair behind me. I snuffled and held him to my chest, crying out for him to hold on, and that he was going to be ok. My heart broke again as I felt him softly shake it head back and forth against me. I pulled him back, so that I now was able to see his face. It shocked me to see that he too was crying. Not as much as I was, though, as he was trying to be brave for the both of us.

    The tears of a man so mentally powerful and so completely potent made large, salty pools flow from my eyes easily, despite how strong he told me to be. No matter his shaken words of truce and love pouring from his cracked lips, I cried. He held me in his arms and whispered that he loved me as his last breath escaped from his lips before slowly falling to the ground from his sitting position. I caught his head before it hit the ground, suffering and anguishing sobs leaking out of my body. I racked in pain and sorrow for all of the love that I had ever believed in, all of the love that had ever been poured from the very depths of my soul all crumpled and faded along with him. My vividly colored hair was no longer colorful and bright, as it had been on only the days that we had spent together, making love in the darkness of the night that had soon turned into the morning light. It drifted and hung limply by my face as I moaned in ache and grief. No more morning would I wake up to see his piercing blue eyes staring back at me as he pulled his hands through my hair just as he had done the night before. No more loud arguments that would soon turn into making up and making out. No longer would I ever hear his brilliant voice singing softly to me in the twinkling of the stars.

    No longer would my love exist, as he had taken it all with him. He died in the rain, just as he loved it, but now the rain seems to be a constant reminder of what we shared and as well as our losses.

    Now, the only thing I believe in, is It is better to have loved, then to have lived life never loving at all.

    ~~**~~ PLZ review! I'm feeling a bit..underappreciated at the moment, and so I don't know if ppl like my work! lol, how am I supposed to kno if those who read it are enjoying it?? anywho, PLZ PLZ PLZ review!! and thx times a zillion to all those who DO review! ;-)
    Love forever,
    Boyluva0101~~**~~

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