1Wrote this for creative writing class, don't know if I'll elaborate or not. It's a stand alone thus far. I wrote this hoping it would come true, kind of glad it didn't. But its wishful thinking. You always wonder what it would be like if you and an ex got back together again, what would happen and all that. Anywho tell me what you think.
After today, I needed some peace and quiet, something that the cafeteria failed to provide. I scarfed down a sandwich and coke before heading to the school library. The librarians there were nazis about food and drink entering their sanctum. I remembered that much from when some of my classes made trips in there for research. Other than that I never entered the library, why would I? Yes, I like reading, but I was one of those people who bought all their books. What if I wanted to reread one of the ones I check out…and it wasn't there. What would I do? No, I just stuck to buying.
I opened the doors and was greeted by the over friendly librarian. Instructed to sign in, I did as told and silently slinked over to the bookshelves. Hiding in the alleys they created, I looked around my surroundings. A class was in the library, and as usual, the cliques from our school were seen. A group of gossiping girls sat around a table leaning in to hear the storytellers latest news; a couple sat across the table whispering, flirting and laughing at each others idiotic jokes. I took a deep breath, smelling the paper and ink that let even a blind man know he was in the quietest of places.
Grabbing a book from the shelf, I ran my hands over the smooth cover. It was a book of sonnets from Mr. Shakespeare himself. It was the perfect thing to grant me a reprieve from thinking. I opened the book to the porous pages and began reading the sonnets. Soon the sonnets entranced me and all the worries I had been stressing over disappeared.
"Hey you. Whatcha reading?" I looked up to see my ex boyfriend walking up to me. I frowned. Even though we were still friends, I really didn't want to see him today. I showed him the book. I wasn't going to say a word unless I had to.
"Shakespeare. Did you know some people don't think he was real? That he was some other person using an alias?" he replied sitting down next to me. I moved over a little bit, trapped by a hard, unyielding bookshelf on one side and strong, determined muscles on the other.
"Well either way the person writing the play was real. Just because they used a different name doesn't mean Shakespeare existed. He just had a different name," I debated. "How do you know so much about Shakespeare?" I asked curiously.
"I got put in a Shakespeare Theatre class last year, don't tell anyone that though. I'd never live it down," he grimaced.
"Did you have to wear tights?" I joked.
"Maybe," he replied tersely.
"Oh my gosh! You did. Ha! Are there pictures? Please tell me there's at least one picture. I'd pay a lot of money to see you in tights" I teased.
He ignored me and took the book from my hands. "Let me not to the marriage of true minds…" he read. His voice was soothing. It brought back memories of late night phone calls, where we would fall asleep listening to each other talk. I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of his voice.
Soon my head rested on his shoulder. His cologne reminding me of the times I would lay next to him and relish in his smell. He smelt like man – the outdoors. He smelt like he could protect me from anything. I felt his muscles move as he turned the pages and the feeling of being held in them came to my head.
The memories overwhelmed me. They flashed back and forth from the good to the bad to the ugly. I jumped back alarmed. I couldn't allow myself to keep feeling like these for him. He said he was done; I have to move on. Period. End of Story.
"I've got to go," I mumbled quickly grabbing my things and rushing out of the library before he could stop me.
The next morning I was swinging at a park near my house. I couldn't sleep, which majorly sucked seeing it was Saturday, and I had nothing else to do. The cool morning air brushed my face with every swing. The sun had just come out casting an ethereal glow on everything; casting away their fears they had at night.
"Hey you. What are you doing up so early? You are not a morning person." That stupid voice again. I didn't want to talk to him. He wasn't helping the situation.
"I couldn't sleep," I replied shortly. I skidded to a stop and jumped off the swing.
He stepped back abruptly. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"Home," I answered not turning around.
He grabbed my wrist, "What's wrong?" he questioned his eyes full of concern.
I pulled my wrist free, "Nothing."
"Then why are you leaving so fast?"
"I…I just remembered something. That's all." I stuttered.
"Bull," he accused. "I know you better than that."
"Knew," I clarified.
"Why won't you tell me what's wrong?" he growled.
How was I to explain everything to him? "Fine!" I spat hot tears filling my eyes, "You want to know what's wrong? Everything! Ever since you decided to leave without notice my whole life crumpled. I was over you. God I thought I was over you! But you had to come back and be the Prince Charmer you are and worm your way back into my mind. Do you not realize that you and your confusing actions hurt me? Do you?" I ranted keeping my tears in.
We stood in silence for awhile. "I made a mistake," he replied softly. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" I repeated. "Sorry? Well sorry doesn't stop the tears, does it? Didn't you know how much you meant to me? We talked about so many plans and then you just left! But I heard you loud and clear. I'm not worth the struggle. I understand. We're over, got it. But you're always around, I can't escape from you. God, what do you want from me?"
"This," he said grabbing my wrist and pulling me to him. He kissed me; the kiss forgiving. Pleading me to forgive his mistake. Slowly, my resolve broke and soon the kiss was an emotional outlet for both of us. I pulled back. "Look, ever since I broke up with you I've regretted it. And I know I don't deserve it, but please give me another chance. I want you back," he implored.
My head argued to leave him in the dirt, so he would feel what I felt. Leave him stranded and loveless. My heart, though softer spoken, rationed to jump back in his arms and forget everything bad that had happened.
"One condition," I said slowly. "This time I get to leave you, if I so wish it. You don' have a choice," I joked.
"Fine by me. I already made that mistake and I know I don't want to repeat that," he said. "So does that mean…"
I kissed him, "What do you think it means?"