The soggy rain drenched my hair. It saturated my skin. My stomach turned in uncontrollable knots. My eyes stared at the ground, my mouth lay partially open in disbelief, my breathing slowed. "It's just temporary."

The voice rang in my ears. Just. Temporary. I couldn't process what temporary was. What is a temporary break up? "I just need time" he added to the mix that turned over in my head. It was like a sick story. One of those lines men drop in cheesy romance books, the ones where the woman then gains her independence. Finds the man of her dreams a moves on. I guess, I wish it was that simple for me. Two years, fives months, and eight days I'm still haunted by those words. By that moment.

Of course, I've dated around, slept with this guy and that guy. But at the end of the day my eyes still sting with the loss. The one I'm supposed to get over. Move on from, of course. Why can't I? I don't know. And now as I sit across from him, sipping my foamy frapp while he takes rather large gulps of juice, my breathing still slows. My palms become sweat, my foot taps repeatedly, I'm anxious with my fastening heart beats. "So, what do you mean?" I ask between sips. My eyes glancing at him and then down to my cup and back. He shifts in his seat, unclasps the cup, leaving a free hand do brush his hair back. "I messed up." he states, slightly nervous. A slight, quirky nervous smile spreading on his lips. I lick mine, the words I've waited 2 years for, "Oh." I respond. The only letters I could retrieve from the dictionary set in my head.

"Oh?" He says, nervous laughter filling the airy silence.
"Yes, oh."
He shifts again, "I messed up."
"Yeah." I say back, his face is struck and he returns to normal.
He breathes in, "I want to retry this."
"Retry," I smile
"Yeah, retry."
I shake my head and grab my bag, "I had two years of temporary, this, this is permanent. You let me go and now I'm going." I say, sharply. I turn, not looking at his baffled expression. I cross the filled cafe, tears streaming down my face. Screaming in my head how stupid I am, how much I've miss him, but my feet keep me walking away. I keep walking.

The clouds heavily coated the sky like a grim warning to those who wait for their unspoken loved ones. It was lonely, this time, the rain dripped as if the world was mourning over fallen soldiers. But I kept my spirits up, I listened to the to the word of mouth, seeing in words what was traveling through the air. Which men have now died in the trenches and which men have come home with written letters in their pockets and a grim expression of fallen men in their eyes. I always wished upon the latter, every night when I shut my eyes I wish that the grave war would end, and he would come home. But I fret upon what he will actually be like. How much he would truly change in this ever dragging war. Sometimes the latter would be a silent death to many who return home, home to a warm meal and to loved ones. But will he ever truly forget the blood that spilled over his hands and the stabbing sound of the tips of blades? This is what I ponder every night when I write down my very thoughts on paper, keeping them mildly cheery for him, even though I know the response will take weeks, if not months, and even then I can hear the despair in his voice through his written words. The following letter could be one from him, speaking about how soon he'll be home. How much he aches for my company at night, or it could be a letter telling me that he's just another fallen soldier in this endless brutality.

I put down the pen I started to write with and walk to the closet, it's filled with suits and the aroma of the perfume he would wear around himself. I remember the smell that would waft off of him in the early evenings. The smell of cigars, cinnamon and whiskey. I smile at this thought, as the thick wool of his coat touches the palm of my hand. I can feel my throat tense in sadness as I try to fend off the imprisoned sobs. My eyes are drowning before I can even attempt to regain my thick composure. I fall to my knees, my skirt brushes the thick hard oak floors, and I sob. At first it's mild, no sound escapes my lips, but soon I can't help it upon myself, I can't bear it any longer. The tears stream down my skin, they end and return, and it doesn't help. He's not returning to me and I can't help think it to myself. That I'm ever awaiting another stricken man. I look at the band across my finger and I know that waiting is all I can do. Finally lift myself off the ground, my legs shake in resistance and my mind wanders me to the bed, an empty ache fills my midsection but I don't stop. I strip off my thick, wool jacket and skirt. I slip off my shoes and fall into my bed. The warmth surrounds me as I fall into heavy slumber. Forgetting that my face is stained with salty tears. Forgetting about the ever engaging war. Forgetting that it ever came to be. And I dream. I just dream.

The rain pattered against the window like a harmonious beat. Patter, patter, patter it went. The empty house creaked and the rain pattered faster. I tapped my pencil against the window seal in the same beat. The rain blurred the images outside, and yet I still looked. I looked for that roughed up truck. That muddy truck that I could hear from a mile away. I awaited to hear that sound. Oh the relief it would bring me to hear the revving of that engine. The apprehension was horrible; not knowing what to do. The clock ticked in the background with the rain. It told me the seconds that went by. Then the hours. Finally I got up from that seal. Your truck never came. I never heard your roughed up truck that night, because it never came.

Eight months later...

The classroom was etched in tension as I walked back to collect my bag. My test was in and I was gone. I grabbed my things and headed out the door. Summer air blew around me and the heat surrounded me graciously. I slung my bag over my shoulder and was ready for the long walk across campus to my car. As I walked the blossoms of the trees blew away and into the street. Dancing in the wind. People walked and smiled. I pushed through the crowded campus and when I looked up he was there. I stopped in my tracks and he locked eyes with me. My body tensed and I looked down at the ground. I could feel my throat dry in anticipation but my mind wanted out. I didn't want to see his face. His charming green eyes or genuine smile. I didn't even want to hear his voice. I bit my lip and kept walking. I looked up at him, raised an eyebrow and continued walking. His mouth opened as if to say something and then he stopped when I walked passed. I kept walking, I moved my arms to my chest and I continued to go. Finally I heard him yell to me, "Ellie. I'm sorry."

I turned around and looked at him, "Sorry?" I asked.
"Yes." He said. His eyes look at me as if he's looking to my soul.
"It's been eight months, Lee. What do you want?" I say, trying to hold the stirred up emotion inside. Like a raging lion caged up.
He walks towards me, "Ell, I'm an idiot. I messed up."
I purse my lips, "You messed up eight months ago."
"I know." He says softly.
I walk up to him, "No you don't know. You don't know how long I waited. You don't know how long the minutes I waited felt. They felt like hours and the hours felt like days." I pause, "You couldn't possibly be sorry enough. You don't know. I needed you and you left."
He looks down, "I'm such an idiot. Ellie, how can I fix this?"
"Why didn't you fix this eight months ago? Why now?"
He shook his head, "I needed time."
"You needed time? You? Hah." I laughed.
He stepped forward, "Don't do this, Ell."
"I loved you. That's a lie. I love you. But I just can't. It's not enough anymore."
"It can be enough."
I blink back tears, "What you did...you left me. You left me by myself to figure things out. Hollow promises and hopes and all I wanted was a reason. Well, I guess your reason was time. And now I just can't do this."
"But I love you too. You're my everything. I know that now."
I shake my head, "If I was your everything then I would have been your everything eight months ago. I can't do this. I want to, I love you, but I can't." I say. My voice shaking in disbelief and yet reassuring myself that his is right. I turn around, almost jumping, and I walk away. I wanted to turn around and apologize for my outburst, run back to him and into his arms. Reclaiming the last 8 months and nothing but a mistake. But my legs kept walking, the tears kept flowing, and I never turned around. And Lee didn't stop me.

I lay next to him in the field by my house. The rich wheat growing heavily around us, encasing us. My head by his side and his by mine while our hands intertwine in and out, I smile and the sun kisses our faces warmly. The silence between us isn't awkward, just understood, and suddenly I laugh. Not a mocking laugh, or a sarcastic laugh, but a laugh of knowing. Knowing that right where I'm at is where I want to be. To fall or to be caught not matters now. Just taking the risk is what I beg for. For what I live for. “What?” He asks suddenly, sitting up and looking down upon me. His eyes fixed with rich worry, the deep green eyes boring down at me, brows furrowed in a worried manner, and lips slightly spread where words dance and wait to be spoken.
“Nothing.” I say smiling up at his worried expression and then laughing again.
His brown furrows more as he looks down, “It has to be something.”
“Nope.” I say giggling. Knowing that why my laughs abroad are not at something funny, but at a reality that has spread across. The warmness of that love that spreads up my body, tingling me like stars in the deep sky. That is what I laugh at, the laugh of love and to be loved. I look him square in the eyes, his green eyes staring across at me, “It's because I love you.”
“You laugh because you love me?”
“No, I laugh because love is a fickle thing, like a mockingbird that doesn't want to be caught. I laugh because I have caught it.”
His eyes soften and he moves a strand of hair from my face, “I have also caught it.”
I smile, “Does it want to leave your grasp?” I say.
“No, it wants to stay forever.”
“Forever is a long time.”
“Forever is not that long when you have forever with someone.”

What is love, but a fortnights kiss.
What is love, but a lovers bliss.
A single kiss I wish to miss?
So even with this time and space,
With miles so vast and great,
It had happened
So raw and so true.
Could this be an endless clue?
An endless clue,
that I may have given my heart to you?
I have found it out, an answer simple
An yet so true,
Is that I do indeed love you.

You may not be Romeo and I not Juliet
But what we have is endless and true
An innocence everyone wishes to swoon
To have and to hold
To kiss and behold
I know for a fact
It's glorious and out of whack
But this is our love
Our life to live above
So be it true
To be crazy and blue
Not even Romeo could set me untrue

Was it all just gone?
Like a dress, frilled and worn.
Was it all just at doom,
from what you wrote I thought it was sworn.
At times I would forget.
Forget to think again.
Think about those summer nights.
Filled with summer heat and summer time.
But some memories I won't wipe clean,
they're a story not yet freed.
I refuse to pretend,
that this muddled mess is at an end.
That the story has no mend.
Just a block of final text.
One day I will come to thee.
To show you that our talks were meant to be.
You can tell me no and I will go.
Because a ferris wheel is what I know.
The Eye of London I will see,
with or with out thee.

I miss your hand
I miss your touch
I miss your laugh
When we were one
When the world disolved
You and I were one one time
I miss me and you
You and I
I miss it like a sunny crime
But now you see her
Not me, but her
Why wasn't I enough?
Enough to be loved?
You left me behind
Like a muddy past
I fell in love
But you fell in lie
I miss what we had
I miss how I was
So why was I not enough?
You owe me that