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I remember the first time I told you I loved you. It was raining hard while we stood on your porch. We were soaked to the skin, our clothes sticking to our bodies. You held your hand to my quivering eyes and smiled as you kissed me. I watched as the rain ran through your fingers. I knew nothing sweeter than your lips on mine. "If you die," you said, "so do I." You said, "I'll love you until the end of time!"

I remeber the last time I told you I loved you. We stood safe and warm in my house. You put your hands to your sorrowful eyes and I watched as the rain ran through your fingers. My perfect world began to crumble. "What happened to if you do so do I?" I said. "It's obvious that you're still alive. What happened until the end of time?" I looked at my watch and continued "It still runs!"

"Stop asking questions," you said. "I's been over for a while," you said, "It ended the day we kissed outside. There is no always and forever; there's only sometimes."
A love story. Or rather a lack of love story. Needs some work.
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Submitted on
October 9, 2004
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