Wow.

I'm clearing out some crap in my room and found a file with some old writings. I REALLY like this one...even though it's old. So you get to read it. It was a short piece written for a first-year English class, so cut me a little bit of slack. :)



A Piece of my Life


I can still taste the salt from his lips.

The softness, the taste of lipbalm, and the wet, salty tears. These are most vibrant in my mind. I have forgotten most else about him, but these I cherish; these I hold close to my heart.

I don't remember even, why it was that we had to part. I recall that it was a frosty morning in January. I remember opening the front door, and being surprised to see him standing there. His crisp blue uniform, his glistening black boots, everything about him proclaiming power and authority. But his eyes were sad. They were not strong. Tears were streaming down his face as he told me he could not stay. As he told me that we could no longer hold and touch one another.

I stood there, transfixed. Watching his beautiful face crumple up with grief and sadness. I gazed at him, wanting to break down myself, but knowing that i needed to be strong, for his sake. I stood straight up, my back stiff as a board; as though someone had run a pole up the back of my shirt, and I could not bend or sway. I told him that I understood--or I think that I did, my memory is clouded with the golden haze of time.

As we embraced, my spine suddenly lost its stiffness. I melted into his arms, as I always did. We held one another close, clinging desperately to one another, hoping that this last embrace would sustain us for a lifetime. I pulled back, to look into his tear-streaked face. His eyes opened up to me the grief that was ravaging his heart. Our lips met in a soft, loving kiss. The soft contours of his mouth felt like home. I was overwhelmed by sadness at the thought that I would never again touch his lips to mine. I would never again feel the enveloping softness of his kisses. I tried desperately to freeze that moment in time--to capture forever the depth of emotion we were sharing, the minute details of the experience.

I failed.

What I remember now are only snippets of a happier time. Vagaries plague my memory. I am unsure what is true, and what is imagined. The things of which I am certain are the taste of lipbalm, the overwhelming softness of his kiss, and the salt of our intermingled tears. My memories are bittersweet. I remember the concept of our joy, but cannot recall the details. I resent that my remembrances have been stolen from me by the brigand Time. If there were a way to recapture that moment, I would. The unbearable sadness I would gladly endure in order to experience the bliss of that kiss once again.