Jameson

A Story by Tigoric16

A short love story between a man and the love of his life. This is a friend of mines work. Her name is Brianna, and I just had to share it.

There was a boy who loved a girl even more than he loved himself And he liked to think about all of the fantastic things he could give her and expose her to if she would be his. They weren't material things; just acts of kindness. Even without dating he would give her random compliments, surprise her with notes and flowers. He often wished she would do something for him, give him anything in return But he also realized love is selfless, and he shouldn't give in the hopes of receiving. So he loved selflessly, and that's the best kind of love you can experience. they grew up. Years went by and they were still close, still best friends and he still helplessly loved her. The saddest part is she didn't know, she was completely ignorant to it. All because he didn't say it. You see, this story takes place in a time where actions aren't ranked above words. Everyone relied on words. No, he never said it, but he showed her every day, and he thought this meant more, or should mean more than the guys telling it to her but not proving it. They did crazy things together, things that you read about in novels. They traveled the country together, camped, danced on decks and laid on rooftops talking under stars and drinking wine, devoted to the present and nothing else. They didn't want to think about graduating and going into the real world, because the world was huge and they knew how easy it would be to lose each other in it. She was irrevocably thankful for him, she had a sense of gratitude in every circumstance, but she was naive and oblivious to how important she was to him But, of course, life waits for no one. Time went by, they graduated, they went to college and graduated from there too. They both changed, but they changed together. They weren't willing to let each other forget where they came from and who they were. But eventually, they got busy with other things; caught up in jobs and travel and dreams. She surrounded herself with skyscrapers and music, he with other things. Time went on, and though she slowly forgot , he never did. He still loved her, still wanted and wished for her. But he also knew she was happy and he wasn't willing to mess any thing up. He occupied himself with other things, drowned his unfulfilled love in notebooks stained with tears and engraved whiskey glasses reading "Jameson". He spent countless nights in the company of other women; but who were they compared to his love? They couldn't fill the void, only she could. He was aware she was only a few states away, just a number of miles and he could show up at her apartment and they could act like years hadn't separated them. After much consideration, he decided he would rather go and regret it then not go and wish he had. So he gathered his luggage and savings, and he made his way back to her arms, praying to a God he didn't believe in for guidance and her acceptance He told himself the trip would be worth it even if he could see her at a distance, smiling and being the girl he fell in love with years ago. He arrived at her apartment complex 49 hours after he had left his, tired and hopeful. She answered her door at his 5th knock, her eyes red with exhaustion or emotion; he couldn't tell which. She had changed, her lips once curved toward the sky now drew a line, her once long hair cut above her shoulders and her eyes that once reflected the ocean were gray and unforgiving. She didn't recognize him. He barely recognized her. The person he once loved was no longer there, this girl was different, this girl was not his. A man approached her from behind and put his hand on her waist, holding a cigarette and wearing a sleepy smile. In an attempt to detach himself, he took one last glimpse at the one he waited for all of his years and whispered " I've come to pick up my heart. I can't leave it with you."