Memories
Last
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I feel like such a lazy slug. And for anyone who was
actually reading this, I’m sorry for taking what, a month, to finish this off.
There’s no excuse for it, but I’m going to try to blame it on having to move
(again).
Does anyone remember about my ‘challenge’ for the chapter
titles? I doubt anyone paid attention, really, but if anyone
cookie for him/her. As always, try to enjoy this. And I think I’ll try harder
to stay away from announcing, at least, if I’m writing something. There’s less
guilt to be had when my muse decides to leave my creative juices to rot.
--
38 — Heartbeat
One of her favorite sounds in the entire world was Miranda’s
heartbeat. Sometimes, when she’d have trouble sleeping, she would curl up
beside Miranda and put her head on her chest. The steady rhythm of her heart
would calm her down, make it feel as if nothing else
existed then but the two of them, and that everything was alright in the world.
39 — Skill
“It takes a certain amount of skill to cook like I do.”
Miranda laughed. “Oh, yeah. It
takes a certain amount of skill to get the right shade of black and the perfect
amount of burnt.”
“I thought you said you liked your toast
40 — Crushed
It was only a matter of time before reality stepped in.
because when Lady Luck intervened that day, reality made a promise to her. It
promised that, one day, it’ll take this from her and it’ll be so much worse
than what could have happened that day.
She’d thought that they’d be together forever, Miranda and
her, and then reality made good on its promise.
41 — Definition
She didn’t think she could handle it, not even after living
together for as long as they had. It was getting ridiculous. If she were to
describe Miranda right now, she could only think of words like
would probably be next to the definition, if not the definition.
The woman seemed to make a mess wherever she went, even more
so if the area was nearly spotless before she got to it. It was like Miranda’s
dictionary didn’t even have words like neat
and tidy.
42 — Revelation
When was it, exactly, when she started liking Miranda? Was
it actually at first sight? Was it when she first heard her talk, first saw her
smile? She can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment when it happened, thinking
that it was more of a gradual thing, a feeling that
strengthened over time. And she reasons that it will only get stronger with
time as well.
43 — Pillow
She thought it strange and torturous, how even weeks after
her death Miranda’s scent still stubbornly clung to the pillow she used to use.
At times the scent would send her into fits of tears when she remembered that
Miranda was gone forever. And at other times the scent would calm her down,
make her remember that everything would be okay somehow as she clung to the
pillow and cried herself to sleep.
44 — Messages
Miranda’s favorite time of year was coming up, and,
honestly, neither of them could wait. Miranda couldn’t wait for the Valentine’s
rush to get there so she could get some of those candy hearts. Marilyn couldn’t
wait for the rush to get there so she could laugh at the messages Miranda would
make with the hearts.
45 — Powerless
They tried to get her to talk to someone after the death.
They said that it’d be good for her, to let everything out, to not bottle it
all up. But they didn’t understand; they couldn’t. They didn’t know what it was
like. They didn’t know what it was like to have the one thing you cared about
most, the one thing you valued and cherished above all else, stolen away from
you while you were powerless to do anything.
They didn’t know what she was feeling. They didn’t know that
it took all she had just to wake up in the morning, next to an empty bed, and
then not curl up and shut herself off
from the world for the rest of her life. No, they didn’t know. How could they?
46 — Perfection
Miranda always said she had so many flaws: Her hair wasn’t
perfectly straight; the scar from a childhood accident just wouldn’t go away;
her writing was kind of sloppy when she didn’t slow down. Stuff like that.
Marilyn would always counter with things like I like your hair; Think of it
as a battle scar instead, something to say that you had fun as a kid;
To her, Miranda didn’t have any flaws, as silly as it seemed.
47 — Dream
This was a dream, it had to be. Nothing in life could be
without the other metaphorical shoe dropping. She waited for a while, to see if
anything bad happened, to see if she woke up. But nothing did. Everything
seemed to amazing and real, like it wouldn’t ever end.
48 — Wishes
She had so many wishes to make that one moment couldn’t
possible contain all of them. She wanted to wish for Miranda to stay with her
forever, as silly a wish as it was. She wanted to wish for things to stay as
perfect as they were together, even though chances were they wouldn’t. She
wanted to wish for everyone to experience happiness like she was, even though
most wouldn’t.
49 — Distractions
Her pocket vibrated, signaling to her that she’d received a
text message. Marilyn was glad that she remembered to put the damn thing on
vibrate before she walked into the office this morning; there’s no telling what
ringtones Miranda changed everything to. She already had a guess as to what the
text would say, even though she hoped she was wrong because she
it. The act was simply counterproductive, and the fact that Miranda did it
specifically in the mornings didn’t help.
Opening her phone, Marilyn breathed out as she opened the new
message and momentarily closed her eyes before reading it. When she opened her
eyes, she didn’t know what to feel. Sure she wasn’t surprised that Miranda had
yet again done what she hadn’t asked—all in good fun, Miranda would say in
defense—but she couldn’t keep her mind wandering when she read:
50 — Words
Te
dich. Lo
ti amo. Even ‘
of her feelings.