Memories Of Her, chapter 1
It was raining like a bitch outside along with the bloody thunder and lighting. The damn power had gone off and I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking whiskey and looking at old photographs by candlelight. I looked down at the people in the pictures, I saw happy faces, smiling and laughing faces, something I hadn't been much of for a while. I find it hard to even breathe these days, just getting out of bed is enough to kill me.
I couldn't go on living without her, without my love. She, my wife, had passed, a goddamn car accident had taken her from me. It was only weeks ago that I had held her body ever so close to mine, only weeks ago that I had kissed her rosy, soft lips. God, my memories of her are priceless.
*
"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Are you fucking stupid?!" I screamed at my beautiful wife of eleven years who had tears welling up in her gorgeous brown eyes. I slammed my fist down on the table where she was sitting and she jumped up and ran out of the room.
I dashed after the frightened woman, the woman that had always stood by my side, the woman who had always brightened the darkest times in my life. She was in our room throwing clothing into an open suitcase sitting on our bed, I watched in shock as she rushed about the room packing her clothes. I had really fucked up this time, I don't even know why I was yelling at her, she did nothing wrong.
"Adie, please," I said softly, I began begging her to stop, I even started taking her clothes out of the suitcase and dumping them back in the closet. It was quite a sight, us running in opposite directions with a bundle of clothes in our arms, her throwing them in the suitcase and me taking them out and running to put them back to the closet.
We were running quite fast, trying to keep up with the other but eventually things got a bit hectic. On one trip back to the closet I ran right into her causing us both to drop all the clothes in our arms. We both dropped to the ground and began gather all the clothes that we could, as fast as we could, we both wanted to outdo each other so bad. Finally the pile of clothes on the floor lessened and there was only a shirt left, we both grabbed a sleeve and pulled with all our strength. It was a wonder the damn shirt didn't rip right in half, I gave one mighty tug and me being stronger than her, she came tumbling towards me. She fell right into my chest and I swiftly wrapped my arms around her, she struggled to be set free but I wouldn't allow it. Finally she looked up at me square in the face, she was so cute when she was mad and I couldn't help but smile. Almost immediately she warmed up to me, she wrapped her arms around my neck and we kissed passionately. We ended up laughing and completely forgetting the fight. If only every argument could end like this.
After our long make up I helped her put her clothes back in our closet. She threw the suitcase in the closet as well and then I picked her up and sat her on the messy, unmade bed. I made love to her that afternoon, it was the first time in a long time.
*
Thinking of that day brought a short lived smile to my face, I would give anything to fight with her on more time. Sure, if I had the chance to hold her one more time, kiss her one more time, or make love to her one more time I would, but I would give anything just to be standing in the same room with her again. Suddenly thoughts that were harsh on my heart seeped into my mind, I thought of her all alone, cold, and in a small, dark space six feet underground. She was alone, I remember promising her the first day we met that I would make sure she would never be alone. Another memory to relive for another night though I thought as I downed my last shot of whiskey for the night. I blew out the candles and stumbled up the stairs to my cold, empty and uninviting bed.
I couldn't go on living without her, without my love. She, my wife, had passed, a goddamn car accident had taken her from me. It was only weeks ago that I had held her body ever so close to mine, only weeks ago that I had kissed her rosy, soft lips. God, my memories of her are priceless.
*
"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Are you fucking stupid?!" I screamed at my beautiful wife of eleven years who had tears welling up in her gorgeous brown eyes. I slammed my fist down on the table where she was sitting and she jumped up and ran out of the room.
I dashed after the frightened woman, the woman that had always stood by my side, the woman who had always brightened the darkest times in my life. She was in our room throwing clothing into an open suitcase sitting on our bed, I watched in shock as she rushed about the room packing her clothes. I had really fucked up this time, I don't even know why I was yelling at her, she did nothing wrong.
"Adie, please," I said softly, I began begging her to stop, I even started taking her clothes out of the suitcase and dumping them back in the closet. It was quite a sight, us running in opposite directions with a bundle of clothes in our arms, her throwing them in the suitcase and me taking them out and running to put them back to the closet.
We were running quite fast, trying to keep up with the other but eventually things got a bit hectic. On one trip back to the closet I ran right into her causing us both to drop all the clothes in our arms. We both dropped to the ground and began gather all the clothes that we could, as fast as we could, we both wanted to outdo each other so bad. Finally the pile of clothes on the floor lessened and there was only a shirt left, we both grabbed a sleeve and pulled with all our strength. It was a wonder the damn shirt didn't rip right in half, I gave one mighty tug and me being stronger than her, she came tumbling towards me. She fell right into my chest and I swiftly wrapped my arms around her, she struggled to be set free but I wouldn't allow it. Finally she looked up at me square in the face, she was so cute when she was mad and I couldn't help but smile. Almost immediately she warmed up to me, she wrapped her arms around my neck and we kissed passionately. We ended up laughing and completely forgetting the fight. If only every argument could end like this.
After our long make up I helped her put her clothes back in our closet. She threw the suitcase in the closet as well and then I picked her up and sat her on the messy, unmade bed. I made love to her that afternoon, it was the first time in a long time.
*
Thinking of that day brought a short lived smile to my face, I would give anything to fight with her on more time. Sure, if I had the chance to hold her one more time, kiss her one more time, or make love to her one more time I would, but I would give anything just to be standing in the same room with her again. Suddenly thoughts that were harsh on my heart seeped into my mind, I thought of her all alone, cold, and in a small, dark space six feet underground. She was alone, I remember promising her the first day we met that I would make sure she would never be alone. Another memory to relive for another night though I thought as I downed my last shot of whiskey for the night. I blew out the candles and stumbled up the stairs to my cold, empty and uninviting bed.
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