Moving

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I spent months wishing that her blue eyes would to look at me with want.  I’d been the shoulder that held her hurt from every boy.  I longed to have her long blonde hair and always tanned skin against me.This time was different. We were single at the same moment. She called with wonderful news. She wanted me to help her move back home.
 
It was a five hour drive in pouring rain across two states. She asked me if it was too much trouble. I said I didn’t mind. Overhwhelmed by romantic thoughts, I chose to skirt the truth. It was her. The possibilities of where we could go played in my mind like Casablanca. This time, Bogie would get Ilsa, I thought.
 
I pulled into the driveway, behind an unfamiliar blue Toyota Corolla. Its hatchback was packed full of her things. Her car, a yellow Honda Accord, sat untouched near the entrance of the house.
 
An odd wave of anxiety came over me. I always felt comfortable when I was about to see her. This time, it was like walking into a dark room on Halloween. She had said that I would be the only guy around. As I jogged along the stone walkway, in a steady downpour, I tried to convince myself it was me, not my truck, she wanted.
 
The large, wooden green door was locked. I could see through a small diamond shaped window. A woman with short black hair and tattooed arms embraced who I wanted. They kissed, passionately, the way I wanted her to kiss me. Their lips engulfed as their hands explored one another. I didn’t knock. I was defeated by an opponent who was more skilled. I would remain forever unrequited.
 
Frightened, confused, and pissed off, I left my truck keys on top of the welcome mat. My tears were indistinguishable from the rain that poured down my face as I crossed my arms and walked away. The storm bathed me in regret.
 
****blogger’s note****

This is a response to the week seven prompt of Trifecta Challenge http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/ 

skirt (verb)
1 to form or run along the border or edge of
2
to provide a skirt for

3 to go or pass around or about; specifically : to go around or keep away from in order to avoid danger or discovery

My friend Marian, aka @runaway_tweets helped with editing of this piece. Please visit her on twitter or www.runawaysentence.com

 
Today’s song has always been my interpretation of heartbreak but in a sarcastic form. This is from The Cult. I’m in a mid 80s mood this week, apparently. Here’s Love Removal Machine. Play it really really loud…
 
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15 thoughts on “Moving

  1. Under different circumstances that could have been the beginning of a “Dear Penthouse” letter…walking in on two girls kissing? :) But I suppose it’s different when you’re in love. Poor fellow.

  2. Great to have you all through the holiday season, Lance. This was a very enjoyable piece. More enjoyable for the reader than for our unfortunate protagonist, I’ll wager. And as always, the perfect song to accompany it. I love that you’re mixing it up and we’re getting to meet lots of new characters.

  3. Damn I hate it when that happens!!! Well, in reverse, of course. I once knew this bartender who worked at a venue where I went to dance once a week. He was kind and sweet and bought me drinks and flirted and I was single at the time. After a while of watching how he treated other girls (not as nicely as he treated me) I decided to ask him out for coffee. That night when I saw him there was another man behind the bar… his partner. Oops. I guess he just treated me nicely ’cause he genuinely liked me (but of course, not in the way I was hoping). But at least I wasn’t in love, and my reaction was more “What the hell happened to my gaydar?!?!?!?!” and bittersweet. His partner seemed like a really nice guy, and I was happy at least that if this guy wasn’t for me, at least he was in what seemed like a good relationship. Anyway, as always I somehow end up writing about me in my comments to you… this was very well written. I think that leaving the keys on the mat and going away is a very true reaction for your character to have in that situation… very believable and honest.

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