I Think I Love Her

Could turn into a book, what do you think?

      Tossing and turning Christian rolled lazily to his feet. He could hear her calling from outside the window. Her voice seemed to be all around him, flowing through him, trapped inside him. Each step toward the door seemed to resurrect her, seemed to breath life into her song. Her whispers grew louder and more melodious as he drifted closer and closer to the source of his torment. Finally he reached the garden just off his back patio. The smell of rose was strong in the chilled air of that spring night and as he sat there, swinging contently on her worn hammock he could picture her there. Her soft eyes are focused on some book he can't recall, and her lips are pale pink and slightly pursed. They crack a smile once she realizes he's watching but for a moment there is uncomplicated, oblivious beauty swept across her face with every whistle of the wind. She looks painted there in some sort of moving watercolor, bright and incandescent like an angel. His perfect angel.

      A cold wind blows and rapes his bones. It wakes him from his vision and leaves him bitter and surrounded by a harsh reality. Perhaps the most painful part of it all is the mystery of her. Not knowing where she is or why she's gone. She could be lying ravaged and lifeless in a grave somewhere, with no one stirring in her stomach, a disposable toy for some sick b*****d. Then again she could be swinging on a hammock, reading a book, looking like an angel with his sweet baby sleeping soundly on her chest and a new man to call father. He can't help but feel that she loved him enough not to run away so suddenly. He hoped she loved him enough not to leave with nothing, no money, no clothes, nothing but his unborn child. After 8 baffling months with not so much as a trace, and everyone in three states on high alert, he can't help but wonder if he's wrong. With so many questions unanswered, and so many doubts, he almost resents her.

"I think I love her..."

     He mutters in exhaustion. It sounds almost as if he's trying to convince himself but then he remembers her kiss. The one that stopped his breath and made everything feel so perfect he knew he could die content. He remembered how big her smile was when he first put his ear to her stomach. She laughed and joked that she hoped it didn't have his glasses.

"We'll name her Clarity if it's a girl because I can see now that you two are the most precious people I know."

He looked at her earnestly.

"And if it's a boy, what then smarty?"

"I don't know, how about Henry? It sounds fit for a king" He laughed.

"You know I hate that name!" She scrunched up her nose.

"Better hope for a girl then...a little angel." He laid his head back down very carefully.

     "My little angel" He thought, and for the first time in a long time, a tear welled up in both eyes. He blinked quickly and fluttered them out.