November 24, 2017

A Story by Elizabeth

A short description of our new beginning.

The theater’s neon lights illuminated our faces in the November evening. I wiped my eyes from the movie we watched, still emotional from the closing mariachi music and bright colors of a screenplay about a heritage we both share.

He hugged me tight. The last time he saw me cry this much was the day we broke up six years before. We were only kids then, filled with love too strong for our small bodies. We had learned to let each other go and grow until that night.

That night we were suddenly thirteen all over again, his chocolate eyes now look down into mine. We laugh as we realize we are still in sync after all these year with our matching maroon shirts and blue jeans. Hearing his laughter all these years felt like I was finally home.

We reached his car as he hummed the tune of the end credits, and as we buckle our seatbelts I imagine continuing our story. I take his hand and feel the love swirl in my chest as I ask him to be mine. In response, I get his perfect smile and the first of many soft kisses.