MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “love story”

Mountain views

mt-lemmon-with-tree

©Jan Wayne Fields

He loved breath-taking views. He could get lost in them for hours. Just sitting there relaxed, letting his mind wander over the horizon. It was always as if he was flying. This must be sort of what it feels like.

And in such a “flight”, he met her. A person who would suffer if she sat still for too long. But at that very moment she needed the tranquillity. That sense of escape from everything and everyone. And at that mountain top she found it.

Together with the person who would lift her up as high as he possibly could.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

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A song of fireworks

https://www.google.gr/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwizvPi4ubzaAhVMaxQKHdjwBo4QjRx6BAgAEAU&url=https%3A%2F%2Fpatch.com%2Fflorida%2Fbradenton%2Fbradenton-4th-july-fireworks-what-you-need-know&psig=AOvVaw3ixqnT-W0OrX-FZC8nmnm2&ust=1523887461934014He was waiting for the fireworks. For a week now, it was all he could think about. She was excited too, but she had many other things on her mind that were consuming her attention. She relished the fact that he was so thrilled. Sometimes all it takes is someone else’s smile to make you smile even wider.

That night there was a fair, accompanied with the grandiose of a market, stalls, candy, street food, a Ferris wheel, lights, dance, songs and, of course, at the end of the night, fireworks. That splendid display of low explosive pyrotechnic devices that always make people stare at the sky with awe and amazement.

Tonight he had something special planned though.

As soon as the fireworks ended, he had arranged with the local DJ for her favourite song to play. As soon as she heard it, she turned at once towards his direction, her eyes now wide and bright, glistening in the night. He stretched his hand to clasp hers and drew her into an opening. And there he led her into her favourite dance. She was amazed. He had learned all the moves she enjoyed and managed to surprise her in a way she never expected.

For her, the fireworks came later. And that was all that mattered.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Song

Believing in a dream

crook-building

©Sandra Crook

Close your eyes and hold on to my hand”. Her ballroom dress fluttering in the light evening breeze. She was prepared for a royal evening. That’s was what her prince had promised. They were middle-class working people; two youngsters who met thanks to a common hobby. Dancing was their passion and what brought them closer together.

She had told him many times of her desire to attend a royal ball, but she never believed it would happen so soon. He took her early, so she could enjoy the springtime in the gardens, together with a romantic walk across the lake.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The world and a star

https://www.dhresource.com/0x0/f2/albu/g4/M01/B1/40/rBVaEVb_gaWAKHKHAADUsZQWqqQ077.jpgThe footsteps in the snow were still there when he woke. It was the last thing she left him when she slammed the door the night before.

She was tired of fighting. She was tired of the sudden mood swings. She was exhausted that every time everything seemed almost perfect, something – the tiniest glitch – would come along to ruin it all.

And it was usually an action incited by another person.

With Harry’s consent.

Of course.

Because Bertha knew well that if he had not wanted it to happen, he could simply say no. He could set his limits. He could actually show his girlfriend that he respected her. That he heard her when she told him repeatedly that she was bothered by certain behaviour. That he was loyal to her alone. Things, that if were the other way round, Harry would not have reacted so calmly or tolerate it all.

Bertha tried to be the bigger person.

But sometimes, even the strongest people break too.

Because all a person truly wants, is the certainty that the person they love will choose them over everyone else, under any circumstance.

She gave him a choice.  She shouldn’t have had to.

But he did not choose her.

She threw away the balloons and the present she was to give him during the surprise party she had organised for him the next day.

It didn’t matter now.

He had not chosen her.

He had placed everything else above what she thought was something that would last through hail and storm.

She would have given him the world. But he was too stubborn to even give her a star.

 

When you love a woman
You tell her that she’s really wanted
When you love a woman you tell her that she’s the one…”
                                                   (Have you ever really loved a woman – Bryan Adams)

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Loyal

Circle of light

fridays-moon-ted-strutz

©Ted Strutz

She loved full moons. She believed they represented completeness. And that light they emanated in the darkness was truly a remarkable sight. Plus, they never seemed to be the same: they differed according to your location.

Ever since the start of their relationship, he had always tried to make those full moon nights special.

Even now, fifty years later, he would still try to surprise her. And she somehow always was impressed.

This night he had rented a yacht in the marina they used to go for walks.

A candlelight dinner, staring blissfully at another circle of light. Love revived.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The shape of love

hearty-bread

©Kelvin M. Knight

“Do you know how the heart symbol came to be?”  Her grandfather saw her gazing mesmerized at the unexpected shape on the sliced bread.

“There’s the belief that this drawing we use to symbolize love and all its associates is in reality two human hearts fused together as one”.

She looked at him, her eyes suddenly sparkling.

“Is that the reason we are constantly searching for our other half? To feel whole?”

“It may very well be”, he replied.

His wife came into the room. It didn’t matter how old they were, he still beamed every time he saw her.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The world in her eyes

https://i.pinimg.com/236x/6a/5b/1f/6a5b1f5af2932b3ae2d9af3ddb9034e4--contactlens-blue-eyes.jpgThe greatest love poems are written in dark nights of silver moons glistening on shattered adolescent hearts. Out of the strongest pain come the most genuine and powerful truths.

That’s what she was reading before she came to meet you. It was what made her tears start streaming again. She was trying. Trying to go on but not wanting to without you.

You could see it in her eyes, the pupils rippling like broken glass. She avoided looking at you because it hurt too much and she didn’t want to let you see the darkness that had overtaken her soul. She didn’t want you to see that, when you left, you drained her of the life you had imbued her with. Yet, she still loved you. She wanted to tell you how much she missed you. You know you felt the same. But for some reason you were both too selfish to admit to what you truly felt.

She had vowed to herself she would melt that wall of ice you had raised around you. She was certain you were meant to be together. You had been through so much. Everyone expected you would end up together. Forever. That’s the way it should go. Instead, while everyone was taking steps forwards, you were making them backwards. Out of miscommunications and bad judgements.

She wanted the world and, in her eyes, that was you.

She still wants that. She may no longer think of you as the super-hero she pictured you would be, but she still hopes deep down you are the tramp-turned-prince she dreams of. She still wants you. But you’re too stubborn to let her in. You know that she fits so perfectly like no other in your arms. In your mind. And in your heart. Every second you let pass without telling her that you’re not thinking of her or lying that it is not true, you plunge the dagger deeper inside. Because she has realised that it is those that can cause you the greatest happiness that ultimately will cause your deepest pain.

Flowery secrets

flowers-and-packing-boxes-dale-r

©Dale Rogerson

So what did he do?

Huh?

The flowers. He must have done something in need of a cover-up”.

No. Not Matthew”. Erika’s smile seemed to radiate from inside of her. She gleamed as she reminisced of last night and blushed as she realised everyone was staring at her.

So you mean to say he brought you two flower arrangements for no reason?

Yes, that’s what love is”. She sighed as she sneaked a peak of the newly-acquired ring that shone on her left hand. It had happened suddenly.

His card this morning read “thank you for lighting up my life”.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Remorse in a ‘hello’

phone-booth-jhc

©J Hardy Carroll

Aaron had left abruptly, slamming the door as he went. Vanessa had begun shrieking again. She was upset and the fighting had drained her. He couldn’t handle it. Leaving was what he knew how to do best. Pretending nothing happened and hoping the black clouds would soon disappear restoring their relationship to the rainbows.

Vanessa knew it took effort and sacrifices. From both sides. Every good relationship, like a dance, required two equal partners going the same way. It was hard, but nothing good came easy.

He contemplated, then lifted the phone and dialled. Her ‘hello’ was filled with tears.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Un-wilting

un-wilted rose

©MCD

The rose had entered her home on an anniversary. She was delighted because she didn’t expect he would remember, or more, that he would bring her something to celebrate. Instead, he surprised her with a beautiful crimson rose and a romantic dinner at a beachside restaurant.

Although every girl loves flowers, there is the downside that they don’t last too long. And unless you allow them to dry up so you can keep them a while longer to remind you of a lovely memory, most flowers simply wilt away after a few days. If you’re lucky, they may last a couple of weeks. But that’s pretty much it.

But this rose was different.

Five months later it was still there. Standing firm and tall in its square glass vase, not having dropped a single petal. The only thing that changed was that it’s colour had become darker.

She was amazed at how it persisted. And she boasted about it to her friends, secretly hinting that it was a sign of a strong and loving relationship.

He was happy to see her eyes glow every time she looked at the un-wilted rose. But he reassured her it did not mean that others wouldn’t follow. It was just that where they come with deep emotion, they survive for longer.

That’s usually the case with most things. When you take care of them they endure.

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