| Does he ever get the girl |
| He sat there alone in his room. He looked at the clock on his VCR and it flashed twelve. He sat there and stared into the darkness. The green numbers on the VCR mocked him. They flashed to brighten his room and then went away. He looked over in the darkness to the phone. Its sleek black form mocked him too. Every time the VCR flashed it highlighted the phone, reminding him that she hadn�t called him when he promised that she would. He waited. He looked at the VCR when the phone finally rang. It flashed twelve from the darkness again. He answered the phone. �Hello.� He said quietly. �Simon is that you?� She said in a soft loving voice. �Yes it�s me.� �What�s wrong love?� �Nothing.� �You sure?� �Yes I�m sure.� �I�m sorry I called so late. I went to a concert with my boyfriend,� He winced, �It was so good.� �That�s nice.� �What did you do tonight?� �I sat here and waited for you to call like you said you would at ten.� �No really what did you do?� �What I said I did.� �Why didn�t you go out and do something?� �I didn�t feel like wasting time and money alone, when I can do that at home for free.� �Your silly Simon.� �Thanks Sarah.� Simon closed his eyes. He wondered if he would ever get her. He looked at the mocking clock again, its light leaving him every second just like Sarah�s light for him. He had lied to her. There was something wrong. She was the thing that was wrong with him. She ignored his advances and his words and overlooked his love. �Simon, I had a long day. I am going to let you go now.� She said. �I love you.� He said, hoping she would say it back. �Goodnight Simon.� �Goodnight.� He hung up the phone, and tears came to his eyes. Only a few fell down his cheeks, not enough to make him feel any better. He wiped the few tears away, and stood up. He walked across his small room and sat down at his desk. He reached up to the top shelf and took down a small black box that he had put all of the letters that she had ever sent him in it. He had gotten most of them from her before he had left to go away to college, but he had gotten a few of them while he was at school. He picked a few out of the box at random. He unfolded the first and read it. The words all seemed foreign to him. He read them and comprehended the words on the page but couldn�t put the puzzle of her words together. He read all of them down to the last line. He understood those words. Those last few words that she had put at the end of all of her letters. At the end of them she had signed them all �I love you always, Sarah.� He got out a pen and a piece of paper to write her a letter. He couldn�t decide how he needed to start this letter. So he began with what was in his heart. Dear Sarah, I have to write this letter to you because I can�t say these words to you on the phone, let alone in person. I lied to you on the phone last night. I told you that nothing was wrong. Well something was very wrong. You are what is wrong with me. Sarah, when I said that I loved you I meant it. This really sucks. Tonight after we finished talking I started to think. I went back and read some of the letters that you sent me, and you signed all of them I love you always. Well if you go back and read all of mine, they are signed the same way. Do you believe that I meant that when I wrote it in my letters? I believe that you meant it. Now I ask you, did you mean it? I hoped and prayed each night that you meant it. When I looked into your eyes I believed that you meant it, but now I am not sure. I say only what I mean, and you know that. I said that last night and you didn�t say it back, why didn�t you? I don�t know what else to say to you. I looked at your letters and I saw the love that you ended each one with, but you never said the words. Why not? I don�t understand you. I just want your love, and that is the only thing I have ever wanted from you. Well I sad what I wanted to and I just wanted you to know what I felt and the questions I had for you. I love you always, Simon Darius He folded up the letter and put it in his writing portfolio. He couldn�t decide if he was going to send it. He carefully put it in its place between other pages written by him that were never sent and he had no intention of sending. He wondered if he was ever going to get her. He sighed, and closed the portfolio, pressing the pages together on another unsent love letter. 06/13/2001 22:55 |