His Love Wanes

An old story I wrote about the passion of loving somebody so much..your heart wants to break.

The way his eyes opened, with the earthly light of the afternoon sun slowly warming his skin and nudging him to wake, to savor the fresh day, made her shiver. She smelled the energy of the light through the window, drifting trees and shifting urges. She beckoned him to rouse with her and come on a new adventure.

A most relaxing wave of pleasure washed upon him as he stretched. He softly laughed at the glowing ambre of her eyes when she watched him, like an enamored child. I LOVE YOU. Every beat of her heart spoke this to him when she neared him, every pressing of lips to his and melting his anger, sadness or temper, spoke this, every shy smile when he caught her staring at him.

She could not hide her love for him, that deep connection that even the most scorching argument could not even waver. Every dream of his was buried deep inside her, and he knew she would care for him every day for the rest of his life, if only he would let her. A want, a need SO powerful, so riddled with fate,

so beautifully mastered that even God admired its creation.

He could never leave her, not ever in his heart. Many other lovers, adventures, and bouts of laughter with other women would come, but she, oh, she, was his eternal, his weeping willow. His rose, forever and always. When she laid in bed with strangers who searched for their perfect match same as she, finding only some degree of discontent, she missed him. Perfection was NEVER the goal. Only pure joy. More and more throughout the months and maybe even years she pined for him, wondering and hoping if he did too.

Yet, man-made laws and early timing kept them apart for all the best of seasons, and both doubt the faith of the other in moments just following restless sleep, only to wake. Wake and try to shove and shake the absurd thoughts from their heads.

She would sleep poorly tonight, knowing he had laughed with someone else. Someone else had sat or laid on their sacred bed. It mattered not what he does with her. But if ever he felt just a shade close to what he felt for her, that love, that painful love, she swore she would fall apart. But he would never know it.  It was a young love, but for what it was, it was real.

Author's Note

Do you think I need some dialogue? I know its dry, but the emotions were soaking, trust me.

Reviews

[LoneWolfe]

To me the author is the dialogue. It reads like an introduction, as if the character is about to tell the true story, and are just providing a background, I imagined it as a "voice over".

Overall, I was left with a sense of loss, a feeling of evaporating beauty. It seems as if the feelings were one-way, that maybe the love was not returned with the strength in which it was given. More of a longing to be as much a part of him as he was with you, and yet it wasn't meant to be, which made the emotions the character was feeling all the more powerful.

Beautifully written, the imagery was vivid and alive. The first few paragraphs drew pictures in my own mind, giving me the ability to wake up next you, to feel love staring at me at the start of a new day. Electric!

Giving you a 99 out of 100 - you lose a point for lack of paragraph spacing :)