French Toast (Pt. 1 of 2)

Her absence was like the sky, spread over everything. She hasn’t been around for a while now, and her distance has been felt and experienced day in and day out now for a little over a month. Waking to the thought of her plastered across my mind. Looking across my now empty bed that seems colder that it’s lost her warmth and smile. We enjoyed the seconds together as they ticked on by whilst she was still here. For a second with her was more sublime then a whole year of adventure without her.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Her name is Jade. A beautiful little French thing with thick black hair and blue eyes that could cut right through any man, and leave him disarmed and hopeless for days to come. But her eyes are one of the many things that make her who she is. With a sense of humor that is goofy and quick, although perhaps sometimes accidental and unintentional, but it only adds to the charm. Kind and caring, although a bit stressed out at times, but she keeps it well balanced in her eternal tug of war.

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I remember the first time I laid eyes on her. Well past a year ago now, in this very same house in Ireland. I’d been in Europe for eleven days at that point. Been in two countries, with Ireland being my third and most sacred, Crossing thousands of miles to arrive to the kitchen in which I first laid eyes on her. Every single mile seemed to gain a purpose, and each trial and tragedy of the road got washed away in her warm radiant light. She sat there making apple crumble, leaving me speechless in the doorway, not knowing what the hell my move was. And that’s where it began.

Over the course of that summer I fell hopelessly for her, even if I didn’t try, it was an act that couldn’t be avoided. Which killed me and my sad soul for a majority of the summer for I didn’t have a hope that she’d ever love me back in my young foolishness. Although twists of fate and reality can be a bit unpredictable at times.

A week before she left a night came when I couldn’t contain myself after a night out with her. Nights out at that point had just become a thing of torture. Sure I could dig on the town, and enjoy myself enough, but with Jade around my soul ached and yearned for more. It knew it wasn’t at it’s full potential, and that to learn her mind and make it apart of me would only make me a better man. So I bent ever bit of my will toward that girl and hoped for the best. Later that night it worked out, she had feelings for me as well. Thus our love affair began in the light, while my heart took a deep breath.

As I said though this was a week before she was due to leave, and neither of us had the faintest clue of when our paths might cross again, so love seemed hopeless at that point. And what do you have when love is hopeless? How can a being accept that, move on, and live as if it were never tasted? For living in the shadow of a passion is to much weight for my soul to bear. Everything becomes less sweet after, and you linger on, searching for a fix to fill you up to the man you once were.

So summer 2013 ended, and so did our love for a brief time. Although at the back of our heads we still yearned for each other and kept the spark alive enough to make it on through to next summer, where neither of us knew what was to come.

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3 responses to “French Toast (Pt. 1 of 2)

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