Stories

“Marrying Her”

I was going to marry her.

She was the perfect girl; the kind that left a smile on your face with just a thought and made you feel loved with just a glance. I had the ring I was going to propose with in my pocket as I watched her.

Her blue eyes were all I could think about sometimes— so captivating and open yet so full of mystery. My favorite feature had to be her lips despite the beauty of her eyes. They were always painted a deep red as that was her favorite color.

“Red is just so passionate, sexy, and beautiful,” she had said.

I sighed as I continued to watch her blonde hair flutter in the wind and wiped my sweaty palms on my dress pants. The sun had already set, leaving the night cool, but I still found sweat dripping to the collar of my neck because of my nerves. I stopped fidgeting and shoved my hands into my pockets, one hand brushing the velvet box, as I leaned against the wall.

Her eyes were bright and mischievous and I knew then that she was going in for a kiss. I closed my eyes just as she stepped onto her tiptoes and counted to ten before I opened them again.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you too. So much,” I whispered.

My heart ached as I watched them finally pull away from each other and smile at each other like I used to smile at her. I was going to marry her yet here I was reminiscing on the sweet scent of her perfume and the soft skin of her hands. They kissed again and this time I couldn’t force myself to look away.

The pink of her lips was smeared now; she didn’t use red lipstick anymore. The shade meant too many things back then that it didn’t mean now. The red I knew then is not the red I know now. This red is pain, anger, and loss.

He began to walk back to his Porsche, she walked to the apartment we had once shared, and I was left leaning against the brick wall of a nearby building. I pulled out the ring and watched it glimmer under the yellow light created by the row of streetlamps that lined her street.

By the time I pulled away from the wall and tucked the ring away the moon was high in the sky, lighting my own street as I made my way to the place I now had to call home. But it wasn’t home without the girl I was going to marry.

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