MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “love story”

The palace of her heart

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©Sandra Crook

It was when she entered that building when she truly became a queen. That was the day her beloved partner taught her to dance the waltz.

It was at an official ball of the French embassy to which he had been invited as an external collaborator. She felt it was an honour simply to have been asked to escort him.

But he wanted more.

He always did.

And after their majestic-fairytale-ball, he did what every little princess dreams of: he fell onto one knee and presented her with a little black velvet box.

She had officially become his queen.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

When time stops

rope bridge sapa vietnap“Come on!!” she bounced impatiently in front of him, her face beaming with excitement. The adrenaline pumping in his body made his heart feel like it wanted to pounce out of his chest. He looked ahead, trying to avoid looking down.

A rope bridge extended in front of him. It was everything but what you would describe as ‘safe’. But this is what she described as “an adventure”. “Something different; something spectacular; something out of the ordinary,” she had told him.

Come on!! It’s either this or skydiving!”

“I’d much rather do the latter at the moment,” he replied trying to contain the tremor in his voice.

“Well, if a step breaks on the way we might do both!” She joked, but deep inside she was as scared as he was terrified.

He paused for a moment, allowing himself to inhale the amazing scenery that surrounded him. It was all so serene; so quiet; so calm. It was as if time had stopped.

That is how he always felt with her. As if nothing and no one else mattered. It was a record for him. Falling so deeply and feeling so much in such a short time. But it was one he was happy to break again and again if it meant being with her and experiencing so much more than he could have even imagined before she came along.

“Come on! It’ll be dark soon.” She extended her hand as she pranced ahead bravely feigning a first step.

“Wait!” he called out.  He took her hand and aligned himself beside her.

Together.”

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Record

Split between worlds

http://perfscience.com/sites/default/files/styles/nodeimg/public/field/image/Mars_Jupiter_Saturn.jpg?itok=QJIicVzwJupiter was born and raised on Saturn but fell in love on Mars. She knew well what it meant to be split between two worlds. Literally.

 When she was born, her parents, native Saturnians, decided to give her the name of another planet, simply because it seemed so majestic from their view of the solar system. She grew up on Saturn, a planet where everything had the shade of blue. From sky blue, to aquamarine, to turquoise, to dark blue, to blue black even. She liked her planet a lot. But Jupiter was restless. She wanted to go out there and explore. She was certain there was something more out there. Something other than just this blue.

 She soon found herself on Mars, a planet filled with shades of red – ruby red, dark red, pink red, rose, coral red. She decided to stay a while and discover a different way of life. Variety always intrigues. Together with that, however, she found a breath of fresh air and a soulmate that made her heart beat a little bit faster.

But he was on Mars. And her family was on Saturn.

The distance was minimised by rapid-speed vehicles that helped make the light-year journey seem like crossing over to another neighbourhood. But it still entailed travelling between planets. And no matter how often or how long she stayed on one, it never seemed enough. So Jupiter decided to do something. She took out her heart and split it in half. She gave one part to her family to remember that even if she wasn’t constantly physically present she was always with them. The other she replaced in her chest and flew to Mars. Her soulmate would complete the other half, and she would always be whole when she returned home.

The perfect gift

http://5pz91qmfi1-flywheel.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/Screen-Shot-2015-09-03-at-1.49.24-PM-640x250.jpgWhat does anyone really want on Valentine’s day? What does anyone want on any day, really? Because 14 February, in essence, is just another day. But it happens to be one on which couples suddenly remember they’re in love, and singles feel the need to demonstrate why they’re better alone.

Susy and her husband had agreed that they were in love all year round, and they would show it to each other as often and as much as they could. For them, this was just another day on which they had an extra reason to go out and enjoy themselves.

Jonah was racking his brain for days trying to find the perfect gift for his wife. He wanted something special. Something different. Something memorable. Apart from the standard flowers and chocolates in a heart-shaped box, that is. So he decided to take her for dinner to a restaurant they had never been before, but one which was acclaimed and seemed to match her liking. She was the person who would get excited with the little things, so she was bound to be thrilled.

Susy, on the other hand, had difficulty in planning the perfect gift. Because what amounts to perfection? She thought of a framed photo of them, but couldn’t chose just one. And she didn’t want to fall into the commercial trap that took over this specific day.

So she did something different.

She took the day of work on the eve of V-day and stayed home to surprise him. She prepared his favourite dessert and planned a relaxing walk along the beach at sunset. The sparkle in his eyes and the smile that stretched across his face when he found her home, unexpectedly waiting for him, was all she needed as an acknowledgement that sometimes the perfect gifts aren’t things; they are moments, people and actions that show us we are loved and cared for.

Something to hide

gondola08She was tired. In fact, she was exhausted. But he refused to acknowledge it. He failed to see how she strived to make her daily routine seem so effortless, while she was camouflaging the pain in the smile she always wore.

He worked hard. And she worked even harder. She tried to support him as much as she could, without asking for anything in return, other than a simply gesture of appreciation, a humble ‘thank you’, a hug and a kiss.

She was sick. But he failed to see it.

Not even when her light was dimming, could he see that he was losing her. She didn’t speak out, of fear that she would upset him too much and that he would overreact, as he usually did when trying to gain control of a situation.

Instead, she allowed herself to wither in the silence of her progressive departure. He was too fixated on his own beliefs to see that something was wrong. And it was only when she left that he realised what had happened. That fateful morning when she was no longer there. When the sky darkened and clouds brought on a tremendous storm.

But it was too late. He had allowed her to drown in her own secret, alone, because she loved him too much to make him worry.

She left with a photo of their last trip together hovering over their bed as an eternal memory.

The things that matter

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@MCD

The day she met him she had found a penny on the way to the store outside of which they were to bump into each other. She thought it was good luck and gave it to him for their three-month anniversary. She told him it might be silly, but she enjoyed looking out for all the small details that for her made a difference. She kept souvenirs and memories of their outings, even dried-up flowers he gave her, in a small box in her nightstand. She felt they granted a special energy to their relationship and strengthened their bond.

He didn’t really pay attention to the penny and it got lost. Or he might have even spent it somewhere; he didn’t remember. He wasn’t the type of person that gave attention to material goods. He felt people and the time spent with them were more important. He tried to offer her as much of his free time as he could. And he tried to please her as much as possible.

But something always seemed to go wrong.

On the day they moved-in together, she found a penny outside his door gate. She gave it to him as a token that it would bring them luck in their new endeavor and in sharing their lives. She found it a few days later still on the TV table where he had left it. She smiled, thinking that he valued it too much to spend or lose. But a few days later, the penny disappeared. And so did her optimism.

He wasn’t too much of an organiser, often leaving things lying around the house for days, even scattered between tables and drawers. He complained lack of time was the perpetrator. And he could not understand why she made such a fuss over insignificant stuff.

She felt he didn’t care enough to cherish the things she brought him.

He felt she was becoming too quirky, too hard to satisfy.

She was about to leave in tears, when he walked into the bedroom, opened the top closet door and brought down a rectangular silver frame. He handed it to her and said, “I pay attention to the things that matter; and that means having you. That’s all I need. That’s all I want”.

He had framed the note where she first wrote to him that she loved him.  She had given it to him the night of the day she gave him that first penny.

Every story has two sides, you just have to have a mind that is open enough to see them both.

The Psyche of Eros

http://img14.deviantart.net/f580/i/2009/128/8/6/cupid_and_psyche_master_copy_by_phomax.jpgThere is a fact we all soon come to acknowledge: that there can be no love if not felt deep inside the soul. There is a lovely Ancient Greek myth that centers on this – the fable of Eros (Love) and Psyche (Soul):

Once upon a time, there was a king who had three wonderful daughters. The youngest, Psyche, was much more beautiful than her two sisters and looked like a goddess among mere mortals. People throughout the land worship her beauty so deeply that they forget about the goddess Aphrodite. Aphrodite becomes angry that her temples are falling to ruin, so she plots to ruin Psyche. She instructs her son, Eros, to pierce the girl with an arrow and make her fall in love with the most vile, hideous man alive. But when Eros sees Psyche in her radiant glory, he shoots himself with the arrow instead.

Meanwhile, Psyche and her family become worried that she will never find a husband, for although men admire her beauty, they always seem content to marry someone else. Psyche’s father prays to Apollo for help, and Apollo instructs her to go to the top of a hill, where she will marry not a man but a serpent. Psyche bravely follows the instructions and falls asleep on the hill. When she wakes up, she discovers a stunning mansion. Going inside, she relaxes and enjoys fine food and luxurious treatment. At night, in the dark, she meets and falls in love with her husband.

She lives happily with him, never seeing him, until one day he tells her that her sisters have been crying for her. She begs to see them, but her husband replies that it would not be wise to do so. Psyche insists that they visit, and when they do, they become extremely jealous of Psyche’s beautiful mansion and lush quarters. They deduce that Psyche has never seen her husband, and they convince her that she must sneak a look. Confused and conflicted, Psyche turns on a lamp one night as her husband lies next to her.

When she sees the beautiful Eros asleep on her bed, she weeps for her lack of faith. Eros awakens and deserts her because Love cannot live where there is no trust. Cupid returns to his mother, Aphrodite, who again decides to enact revenge on the beautiful girl.

Psyche, meanwhile, journeys all over the land to find Eros. She decides to go to Aphrodite herself in a plea for love and forgiveness, and when she finally sees Aphrodite, the great goddess laughs aloud. Aphrodite shows her a heap of seeds and tells her that she must sort them all in one night’s time if she wants to see Eros again. This task is impossible for one person alone, but ants pity Psyche and sort the seeds for her. Shocked, Aphrodite then orders Psyche to sleep on the cold ground and eat only a piece of bread for dinner. But Psyche survives the night easily. Finally, Aphrodite commands her to retrieve a golden fleece from the river. She almost drowns herself in the river because of her sorrow, but a reed speaks to her and suggests that she collect the golden pieces of fleece from the thorny briar that catches it. Psyche follows these instructions and returns a sizable quantity to Aphrodite. The amazed goddess, still at it, now orders Psyche to fill a flask from the mouth of the River Styx. When Psyche reaches the head of the river, she realizes that this task seems impossible because the rocks are so dangerous. This time, an eagle helps her and fills the flask. Aphrodite still does not give in. She challenges Psyche to go into the underworld and have Persephone put some of her beauty in a box. Miraculously, Psyche succeeds.

When she gave Aphrodite the box, the goddess got extremely angry. She yelled the poor girl that she would never let her go and she would always be her servant. At this crucial moment, the Gods, who were watching this wrongdoing all this time, decided to take up action. They sent Hermes, the messenger God, to narrate Eros all the misfortunes that his wife was going through. Eros was touched and this healed the wound of betrayal. He left his room and found Psyche exhausted in his mother’s garden. From that moment on, Eros and Psyche lived happily together in their lovely palace, which was always full of roses and other flowers. Psyche persuaded Eros to forgive his mother for what she had made her suffer. As a wedding gift, Zeus made Psyche immortal and allowed her to taste ambrosia, the drink of the Gods. Even Aphrodite was happy because, now that Psyche was living in the sky with her husband, men on earth had forgotten all about her and were again worshiping the true goddess of beauty. Eros and Psyche then had a daughter named Hedone (Pleasure).

The story centres on the power of true love and the strength it finds in overcoming all the obstacles thrown before it. But most importantly it reveals that in the union between love and soul, trust is essential. For love is an act of faith for the other and it must remain surrounded by a small veil of mystery. It is what keeps the feeling alive. Living each moment with deep emotion, without trying to understand the magic that lies behind it. If we cling too much, we will end up strangling love itself.

Love is something we often don’t fully understand. It comes abruptly and touches our heart and soul. If it persists, if it prevails despite the challenges it may face, that is when you know it is true and worth having.

 

The waiting machine

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©Sandra Crook

It stood there, in the corner of the room gathering dust. Its glimmering black had faded, as rust consumed its interior. It remained exactly as it was left, 75 years ago. Waiting to finish the job it had started.

The old sewing machine was Martha’s prized possession. She had been the first in town to possess one, and people would travel for miles to have their outfits sewn on that very machine. That’s how Martha met Spencer.

The day he went off to war, she began sewing a dress to greet him with on his return. It was never finished.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

That very thin line

love-hateSome people come into our lives without us realizing it. Until the proper time comes, that is. For Cristina that was the case. Because her and Jacob’s path had crossed many time over the past year. But none of them had noticed. They were too busy living their lives at that moment to realise where fate was pushing them to.

The first time they collided, they literally ran into each other. She was getting off a bus and he was racing to catch the next one. They crashed, but being too concerned with the time pressure they were both facing, they did not even exchange glances.

A few times, they frequented the same night bar with separate groups of friends. But they never saw each other.

When they finally met, they were at a bar waiting for their drinks. He offered to pay for hers, but she politely refused. He tried to offer her another a few minutes later. She hesitated but decided to accept. He asked for her number and showed he was eager to see her again soon. She found it too quick a move and discretely dismissed him. For her, he was not even worth it.

But he persisted. And decided to chase her. She decided to give him the chance.

He sent her flowers, took her on long walks on the beach at sunset, and revealed a romantic side to him that few men admit to having.

She fell for him.

But then she saw something different. She saw how men can be just as jealous – or even more – as women. And she disliked the way he was looking for opportunities to make her feel bad.

She discovered that there is a very thin line between love and hate. Because there are people we love to hate and others we hate because we love them so much. It’s confusing, but no-one ever said that the human race was a simple species to understand.

There were so many instances when she knew she should be angry at him, but all she could feel was sorrow. At the time wasted being upset with stupid little things, and not spending it together.

Her psychiatrist friend had told her that “people make us feel the way we allow them to”. She also tried to make her see that there was no use in trying to find justification for everything. “An explanation will come only when you don’t need it anymore. And it will usually be even less than the one you expect”.

All she could do was remain true to the person she was. To be patient and optimistic that things would turn around for the best once and for all, and she could finally stop being afraid of actually saying or feeling what she truly felt.

 

There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart’s desire. The other is to gain it.”  – Bernard Shaw

Coffee in the park

https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/t/paper-coffee-cup-book-grass-green-summer-sunlight-park-55085045.jpgHe was waiting for her with a book in hand outside the small coffee shop where they had agreed to meet at 6pm sharp. She was ten minutes (fashionably) late. On purpose, of course. His eyes lit up when he saw her approaching. She tried to hide the glow of her own eyes through the dark sunglasses she still wore even though the sun had already began to set.

He greeted her and told her he would like to go sit on the green hill opposite the café where people went to gaze at the world as it went by a few feet away from them. She agreed without hesitation. It was an alternative offer to a mere coffee appointment and she was curious to see where it would lead.

He ordered the coffee and took her hand. She couldn’t help but blush, even after all this time.

The last time she had seen him a week ago she had left in a rush to hide her tears. He was as cold as an iceberg. But both their pride made them stubborn enough to remain apart even though they wanted to be together.

For minutes, they discussed the people that walked past, the streetlights, the current events, everything other than what was truly on their minds.

Then she dared ask, “what is this book you have?” She was a bookworm and he knew it. She could get lost in books as though she was drowning in an ocean.

He didn’t look at her, but a faint smile formed on his face. “There are some things I can’t say. It’s what you complain to me about. That I don’t speak enough. Or, rather, I don’t tell you how I feel enough. So I found another way to do so. I want to read you something. It’s exactly what I want you to know. What I wish I could say to you. What I want you to understand about me.

She gazed at him as he took the book – a blue one with yellow pages – and opened it to the marked page. He cleared his throat and began to read, gently as though in a lullaby, with emotion emanating from every word he pronounced.

I love you even when I hate you. Even when I want to be angry at you, I can’t. Because I’ve fallen so deep, I can’t get out. And I don’t want to. I become silent because I fear of you knowing this. Because it scares me that I am so vulnerable at your hands. That I lose all control when I’m with you, when I simply lay eyes on you. You awaken in me everything I want to be. That better person I would like to be, the one I strive to become. I say nothing because I want to say a lot. Because I fear you’ll realise you deserve so much better than me. That I am not worthy of someone like you. Whatever adjectives I find to describe you will never be enough. And I fall silent because I fear that you will realise you deserve better and walk away. I know I become overly jealous and possessive. It is the fear in me coming out. And that turns into anger because I am afraid I won’t be able to keep you. I love you even when I say I don’t. Because you have awakened in me an emotion that I never knew existed. And I love you for being you. For being here with me. For loving me.”

He closed the book and she swallowed with difficulty. She turned her head quickly away because she didn’t want him to see the tears forming in her eyes. She managed to keep them from trickling down.

That’s beautiful,” she told him. “Who wrote it?

He opened the book again to the marked page.

I did,” he said and revealed the yellow post-it he had written it all on.

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