His Story

His Story

 

Alright, so "His Story" along with "The Brownstone" were my first attempt to writing. Not the greatest but it helped me to get my creative side going. You can consider these my practice "pieces". 

I could see in his eyes how angry he was…with me. Frustrated…wanting something from me that I couldn’t give…couldn’t say. How could I? How could I tell him how much I wanted him…needed him. No! It was unfair. I couldn’t do that to him. But all the while I wanted to reach out to him…my heart beating fast knowing that he was about to turn around walk away and I would never see him again. Oh God!…please don’t go I kept saying in my head…all the while angry and heated from the argument. I felt the tears swelling up in my eyes. But no…I couldn’t show him how weak I was. Eliza! he said, still breathing heavy from all the anger…I could see it in his eyes. He was going to leave…he had enough! With a sudden movement He headed for the door. Then like I had no control over my actions I allowed my finger to form over the keys…embracing the flat cold form of the surface and allowing my hands to work as if they had a life of their own…a beautiful sound emerged to form the chords…a sound I had heard only too often but only in private…never played for another soul…knowing that it would reveal too much…it would say too much…say what I wanted and needed without a syllable coming from my lips. It was his song! And as in slow motion I sense him stop in his tracks…[pictures of Eliza and him suddenly flooding his mind…the first time they met, small insignificant touches, how she smiled at him, etc..] I could feel his eyes turn to me in disbelief, in pain, but relief as if all at once he understood…He suddenly realize as in one huge wave of emotion all that I had built up and did not have the courage or right to say. He finally knew….he realized…what it was that I was hiding from him. But I just kept playing, not wanting to relinquish the keys, allowing all that filled my heart to flow freely through my fingertips…needing to finish telling him all I had to say without saying a word. I almost made it to the next chord when suddenly and without warning he swooped me up in a fierce grasp. The heat coming from his body…from his eyes. I tried to turn from his gaze but he held my tight, dazzling me with his beautiful eyes…so filled with anger, with amazement, with want……………..with love! I tried to release myself from his hold…pushing my hands up against his hard chest…trying to break free…looking for a way out. Then I felt his anger rise again. “Why?...why would you not tell me, Eliza” his eyes were so full of pain. “How could you let me believe that you didn’t care…that…you didn’t want me”….”and that you didn’t want me to be part of your life”. The pain of his words felt like a dagger straight in my heart. Yes, I left him when I realized that I was in love with him but only to prot

ect him…to allow him to pursue his dreams without allowing me to get in the way. I left because I did want him...because I did care! But now the realization of what I did to him hit me like a hard stone…I caused him pain! He was hurting because of me! Again, I felt the heat of my tears swell up but this time I couldn’t stop them in time…they fell over the rim of my eyelids in huge droplets. “I…I….I didn’t mean to. I only wanted you to be happy”, I managed to gasp those words out. “And you thought that it would make me happy to think that you went back to your husband?”…”To assume that you had just realized that you were actually happy with him and that all that I thought was between us was all in my imagination?”. “No! I said quickly. “I knew you would not let me go if I told you that pursuing your dreams was more important that being with me!...I had to find a way to make sure you would go to LA”. “Elizaaa”…he said with such a soft voice….then taking his finger and caressing the right side of my face until it touched the bottom of my chin. I suddenly felt myself shiver from his touch although he had never really let me go from his embrace.