Writing Prompt: Countdown
A Walk Down Memory Lane
It all started when we were ten. I discovered that the passionate feelings I had for you wasn’t just a hallucination. What I had was real. Being young, I kept it as a secret. Hoping one day, you would feel the same way. For years I’ve wished on shooting stars, wanting to tell you about my sentiments instead of the stars.
Nine years, I’ve done my waiting. I was afraid that if I waited any longer, I would lose the courage that I had built up for so long. When I finally spoke, you had a smile on your face - a smile that I knew would light up even my darkest nights. There was no way that I was going to let you go.
You called me and told me you would pick me up at eight. You won’t believe how excited I was. I wanted to impress you, and I still remember having to hike in high heels. You laughed as we went up and offered to carry me up the mountains.
There were hard times - like when your mother had to undergo her seventh surgery - then, in the end, passed away. Watching tears fall from your face, I secretly promised that I would always be there.
Six unanswered calls. I couldn’t understand. I was there when you needed me, and now I was all alone when I required a shoulder to cry on. When you said you had things to do, I believed you.
We fought more than I can remember. But five times, you left me deserted in the place we once confessed our love to each other. Have you forgotten?
The truth is, throughout the four years you and I have been together, it felt like we were walking down different paths.
There were three words I yearned to hear from you, but now I’m scared that another three words will hurt me.
They said when you love someone, it seems like there’s only two of us in the whole world.
I thought you and I became one. Your heart had beaten in time with mine.
Then I realised there was none at all.
In the blues, a helping hand come for me. It reaches out to me in the dark.
We waltz together; the darkness seems to fade away and is replaced by golden glows.
You don’t hesitate to say those three words. As you whisper it to me, I can feel them being engraved in my heart.
Four months pass and I feel like a new person. Chains made of the memories of my past lover had let me go. Now nothing is stopping me.
People tell us that it’ll be hard. We both experienced the bitter end of love and they think that there is no way to get us to love again. Few wounds won’t get the best of us.
They are wrong. We cope better because of that. Whether we are six-year-olds or sixty, we trust each other and rely on one another. There is nothing that can break apart what we have.
Seven is a number that symbolises perfection, safety and heavenly aspects. If so, my love can be represented by the number seven because it’s perfect and keeps me secure. It may be a gift from Heaven.
It’s eight in the morning. I wake up with scruffy hair and pyjamas on. When I see you standing in the doorway, I run and hide. I only come out when you tell me that I always look beautiful -- even when I’m not trying.
There are only nine days left before our wedding. It’s so close, yet a vast gap exists between now and the time we are truly together. My heart feels like it’s going to burst. The thought of us bonding for eternity makes me ecstatic.
You take me to see the stars at night. Away from the city lights to see the glowing crystals sewn into the sky. Our eyes meet, we get lost in each other’s eyes. Ten seconds. That’s all it takes. It’s long enough to make us realise once again: we are in love. True love.