Just checking in...

I thought I'd pop in and let you know that I'm alive because I know if I were you, I would have thought I kicked the bucket with how infrequently I post... *is guilty* But in my own pathetic defense, I have been pretty busy lately.

Not much to report, except that I've had a very suckish kind of week and that my lang class is going to be the death of me. We had two projects due on the same day, and tomorrow I have two lang tests in the same period! I didn't think the laws of the universe allowed such things...

But enough of my griping. I wrote a short story (I enjoyed yours very much, by the way) a while back and figured since you posted one, I would too. It was just one of those random thoughts I had to get down...it really is quite random (and unedited) and probably makes little sense haha.

Here it is:
Maybe I’ve been here before
I know this room, I’ve walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah

Nothing has changed, save for the layer dust coating anything and everything, the sense of weariness about the place. She picks up a picture, stares at the smiling faces for a long moment. They were both too ignorant, she decides, what did they have to smile about? They were never ready for such commitment, anyway. She places the picture back, face down, on the shelf. Takes a deep breath, finds that even the air smells of surrender and she wonders why she even decided to return here.

She should have known better, she thinks. Better to have let him be. He is long gone by now, possibly even dead, and she thinks she should care more about his fate, for it was him who plagued her thoughts and dreams for nearly three years. Three years. She shakes her head. No, best not to dwell there.

It was a fool’s game they had played, at the mercy of their own hearts. “And when you leave the thinking to your heart ‘stead of your head, the comfort of the shallows is left far behind and you’re swept to much deeper waters,” someone once told her, back in London. Deeper waters, indeed. Waters that could easily drown you if you didn’t mind the tides and keep your bearings. And drown she did…

Memories seem to flood back, now, and she can do nothing to ebb the flow.

A stolen kiss, his grin, his swift disappearance before she could say word. The passion in his eyes, a murmur of soft words in her ear, the ghost of a long forgotten smile touching his lips as she pleaded with him to let her stay. A soft kiss pressed to his forehead, a note left behind on the nightstand, the empty bottle of madeira hanging limply from his hand, and the feel of the room, cold and broken, as she stepped out the door.

And now, three years late, she feels the tears swimming in her eyes, and she knows that, damn it, she’s going to cry. She tries to suppress it, but it overwhelms her, and the next thing she knows, she’s on the floor, back leaning against the bed and body wracked with sobs. And she cries. Cries until there’s nothing left. Tears, energy, and bitterness have all left her, and she feels only the ache of lost love. Foolish, she thinks, to fall in love. But then, she would have never made it, otherwise.

When she leaves, she does not look back, only places the photo neatly in her bag and carries on down the corridors with footsteps echoing in the soft light of a morning sun. A new day has dawned.

Fin

Hope you're well

Caitlyn