and now, without further ado, my first post! in the form of a short short story!
They met on a glowing autumn day as the late afternoon light poured through the fall leaves like honey. The boy was sitting on a bench in the park, lost in his thoughts, when, suddenly, he looked up from his lap and he saw a girl unlike any other. Their eyes locked. As hard as he tried, he could not look away. He knew that he could love this girl for the rest of his life.
As if in a trance, the boy stood up and walked toward the girl. The girl had started walking in his direction as well. After what seemed like an eternity, the boy was finally standing in front of this miraculous girl. He imagined that her eyes were deeper than the Marianas Trench as he gazed into their blueness. “Tell me a story,” he said. “Tell me the story of your life, starting from the minute you were born.”
They soon became inseparable. But the boy never felt completely at ease with the girl. He often felt that something wasn’t quite right, that something was off. Their budding relationship reminded him of a tiny moth, rescued from a puddle of water. Though, at first, the little moth was shaky and unsteady, it could still be saved. It merely required the sweetness and consideration one must always use when handling something so fragile. Even speaking in tones that were anything other than hushed and reverential as the moth regained its strength was risky. Otherwise, the moth could become frightened, spread its newly healed wings, and disappear in an instant.
But time passed and, from the outside, their life seemed perfect. Everyone thought the boy and the girl completed one another; that they were meant to be. Yet, as the days wore on, the boy thought that he could feel the girl pushing him away. He was convinced that the girl was growing restless, claustrophobic. She must feel as if she is sitting in a canoe that is stranded in the middle of a stagnant, sluggish lake, thought the boy.
The boy knew that he was smothering the girl with his anxieties but he couldn’t help it. Not at all. Not one bit. Sometimes the boy longed to siphon all his worries and fears into a balloon and send it up, up and away, so he could move through life unencumbered. So he could truly love the girl without getting in his own way. But he knew that the balloon would eventually reach the sun and then it would pop and all those bothersome feelings would come tumbling back to him.
Unbeknownst to the boy, he was the only constant in the girl’s life. While the boy remained stuck inside his head day after day, always the same, everyone else that the girl cared for was changing. Her friends and family were growing older, settling down. Starting careers, starting families. Creating new lives in new places. As the boy had sensed (though his guess as to why was wrong), the girl was becoming anxious. The palpable energy of change, of new beginnings, was swirling all around her and, because of this energy, the girl began to examine her own life. Where did she want to be? What did she want to do? Who did she want by her side? Was she happy with her life the way it was now? One night, during dinner, the girl said, “I feel like everyone is leaving me behind.”
“Not me,” the boy said. “I’ll never leave you.”
“Oh, really?” said the girl. “Because you’re the person that I would like to be left behind by the most.”
The boy sat in stunned silence. He wanted to say a million, billion, trillion things to the girl. The boy searched his mind desperately for the right thing to say. He wanted so very badly to believe that there were particular words that existed which, when placed in the correct order, would change the girl’s mind. The boy wanted to scream as loud as he could, to pound his fists on the table, to throw his dinner plate at the wall. Anything to keep the girl from leaving him.
However, in the end, the boy said absolutely nothing. He didn’t move an inch. He knew their relationship was over. That tiny moth could not be saved after all. Well, the boy thought to himself, what a fun little experiment in living.