Love Short Story – Hidden love
Photo credit: imelenchon from morguefile.com
“dry those tears ” I say to her in a soft tone as she tries to hide them. look like a mess what’s wrong?
I knew what was wrong though from the start. There’s no covering up how she flew through the front door and tore through the hall into her room before I could say hi. She had been my roommate for two years and she only did that after a break up. Its happened twice before the same story over and over.
She meets some muscle built guy or a slender partying one and falls in love not with them but their looks and due to that she goes out with them until she catches on to what they really are then they leave for a bunch of one night stands. And the worst part about it is I love her and treat her right but she’s not interested unless a guy has abs. I may not be perfect on the outside but inside lays a heart of gold that if she accepted she would have all of it.
She looked up slightly and finally said “dave left me”,hammer right on the nail I thought to myself, but right now it wasn’t about me. Putting my attention back to the matter at hand I asked her “well do you know why”?
Again a question asked for confirmation, “I walked in from work earlier than usual because of a shift change and thought I would surprise him with a romantic dinner which I had bought some wine for but instead I found him with another girl.”
She burst into tears again. Why does she cry over these guys and how does she not see that a real man has been there all along. I hug her for a minute trying not to let my emotions let her know how I feel because I don’t think she needed anymore complication. We both go to sleep which was most needed and then I woke up and decided to make breakfast and bed for her because maybe she slept off most of it and this would make the pain vanish completely. I went to her room with a breakfast of scrambled eggs just how she liked them and fresh orange juice with some turkey bacon because she didn’t like the regular.
I knocked on the door… No response then I knocked again… still nothing since the door had no lock I reached for the handle to go inside then I heard a raspy noise almost like a cough only it sounded like go away. I opened the door and immediately dropped the tray, for what was making the noise was gruesome she was gray and propped up on her bed against the backboard in a sitting and slouching position around her strewn across the bed were a couple bottles of painkillers. I rushed to her and tried to talk to her but no response other than that wheezing noises was to far gone.
I still called the paramedics but she would be dead in a matter of seconds they wouldn’t make it quick enough. With tears in my eyes I took her hand it was cold as ice then putting it to my face I said I want to tell you that I’ve always loved you and wanted to be more to you than just a friend. I felt her body shift in pain she had 20 seconds now tops and I could hear the sirens they were close but not close enough she said one word as she pointed to the wall and that was hidden and with that I felt the life go out of her.
I wept and screamed like a madman pleading if there was a god give her back. But it was no use, the pare arrived and she was pronounced dead on the scene. All the while all I could think of was her last words and the ba**ard responsible for what she did. It was hard to focus though on what she meant by hidden and her dinger though loose and seeming to just hang from her hand looked like she was pointing in the direction to a painting on the wall.
“I dont care” I said to myself, all I care about is justice for her. That night I went and naught a small revolver to seek my justice and seek it I did I found him in his house and shot both him and his playmate for the night. Then turning the gun to myself I heard sirens. One of the neighbors must’ve called the police. I cocked it and pulled the trigger nothing happened then I remembered before I came in I very quickly with nervous and shaky hands loaded the gun forgetting to put one in the chamber for myself, cops were already down the street no time to get to my car.
So facing my punishment I gave myself to them and was eventually sentenced to two life sentences. While in prison my apartment was rented to some new couple from whom one day I got a package from. Attached was a small card which read:
“We found this taped to the back of a painting left hanging in a room and due to the content we think it belongs to you.”
I opened it and as soon as I did I smelled her perfume. I removed a notebook from the package and looking to the last entry started to weep. It read:
Dear diary, this is the last entry in inputting I am sick of life not only am I suffering from a broken heart but from an unsure decision as well. I know now that I love the one that hurt me but since he can’t change I won’t give him a second chance. I cant live without him . But if I could I would because my roommate might not be hot but he knows how to treat me right. I dont know but I think I’m in love with him as well but why should I burden him, all I do is burden otherwise I wouldn’t be writing in this thing. He’s offered to cook me breakfast in the morning and I know he might finally ask me out but I can’t let that happen no matter how I want to say yes, I’ll just be to him another burden. So thinking about all that has happened my choice is clear out of love for him I have to end the burden that is my life goodbye and may he find this article someday.
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