MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “love story”

Letters unsent

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The world was still asleep. Daylight had not yet broken the night.

She woke in her sleep as if an alarm clock went off inside her. She got up, sat at her desk with a pen and paper. Traditionally. She preferred it to the digital typing of a keyboard. Her pen was rushing across the page, trying to keep up with the words that were pouring out of her mind. She needed to record them all now that inspiration called, otherwise this wave would fade out during her sleep. Expression came at strange hours.

Time was the most precious gift you could devote to anyone. Even to yourself.

She scribbled down all that her heart pounded to say but couldn’t. Those words left unsaid that you always wonder if they would make a difference. He, on the contrary, didn’t have a way with words. He would only reply if forced to. But she wanted to let him know. She wanted to assure herself she had done all that she could; all that was possible on her part. The ball was then in his court. And she was obliged to accept his decision.

She wrote it all. The stubbornness they both had in communicating, their obsession with not letting go of things from the past, their inability to manage their feelings, the wanting it all and getting nothing in the end.  She wrote of how she was holding things to surprise him with, she dreamt of sharing with him her accomplishments and was eager to boast about his development too. But something broke along the way. And it kept breaking.

She concluded her letter stating that it was what he used to say – that they had found the winning lottery ticket – but somehow they had now lost it or simply let it go.

The letter – just like so many others – was left unsent.

The heart is a delicate thing. It hurts even when you’re convinced it won’t.  And the worst of all is when you say you can’t do anything about it. Because that ‘can’t’ has a “don’t want to” underneath. And that perhaps is the most painful of all.

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Holding Hands

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Love means never letting go of each other’s hand no matter what,” read the note he left her that morning.

They had spent the entire night in the park watching the stars sparkling under a full moon.

In an outpour of romance then, she had told him an observation she had, that the spaces between her fingers were created so that his could fill them.

As a child, she usually disliked when her parents or relatives or caretakers held her hand. She felt constrained, as if they were limiting her actions or her room for movement. They were holding her hand to keep her close.

But as she grew older, she began to seek the intimacy of this physical gesture. She saw more into it. That it made her feel safe and loved.

Couples hold hands to show each other off. To make each other feel secure and demonstrate that they are there for one another.

Holding hands releases oxytocin in your brains, boosting that special, romantic bond you share with your partner.

In times of need, we want someone to hold our hand. To make us feel that we are not alone. To diffuse some of their strength into us when we’re lacking it.

Like and Love

©Randy Mazie

The outer part of their house wasn’t very appealing, to keep the ‘bad eye’ out.

Their relationship was almost perfect. At first sight, they didn’t really seem compatible, yet, opposites attract. You don’t always choose who you’ll fall in love with, but sometimes you just fall with full force. And it lasts forever.

At their wedding, she remembered a phrase from her grandma: “you like someone because of some of their qualities, and you love them despite some of their qualities”.

Buddha said: “when you like a flower, you pluck it. But when you love a flower, you water it daily”.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The depths of love

How do you know its real love? And that it’ll last?” Jennifer asked her godmother that question as she was putting on the veil of her wedding dress.

Her godmother smiled at her and wrapped her arms around her. “I asked that very question too on my wedding day”.

There is no single answer. It depends on the things you are willing to do for the person you love. Acts that go beyond yourself. That demonstrate you value something more than your own person”.

Jennifer looked at her godmother, her thoughts wandering.

I’ll tell you a story,” her godmother began.

There was an emerging photographer who was out on a photoshoot session one day. A beautiful young girl walked through his set at the very moment he clicked and captured her on film. He couldn’t get her image out of his mind. He was fixated on her gaze as she wondered off in a hurry. It penetrated him and remained with him so strongly he desperately needed to see her again. He searched and found her later that week in the hair salon where she worked. He conveniently forgot his cap there, so she in turn found his studio in order to return it to him. He asked her to pose for him for a few shots. She didn’t know it at the time, but he published her photos in a well-known magazine that brought him further recognition for his work.

Their encounter was brief but it changed their lives forever.

She was happy by his side. He made her laugh and she loved him for it.

She loved playing in front of his camera. And he always managed to capture the perfect pose, enclosing her beauty and charm in a single shot.

But one day, when she went into the dark room to get some film which he needed, a bottle of developing agent fell onto her head and into her eyes. She was rushed to the hospital.

He ran by her side, sweating with agony at the thought of losing her. At the thought that something might happen to her.

The doctors said her pupils were destroyed irreparably and the only way to see again was if she got an eye transplant.

Would you give up your eyes for someone else? Would you forsake ever seeing anything ever again, simply so the person you love can spend their life viewing the world? Could you feel a love so strong and profound that you would voluntarily hand over one of your main senses to someone else?

He never even thought about it. To him there was no need to discuss it either. It was a conscious decision it took just seconds to make.

In the operation room, he was lying next to her, holding her hand. His eyes wide open, his last memory was flashing before him. It was his last adrenaline-rush ride at full throttle on his cherished motorcycle before he handed over its keys to a random caretaker. He was giving up one love to save another. Tears were streaming down his face. The doctor told him to take his time. He needed to stop crying for the operation to continue.

He said he was OK. He turned around to look at her one last time. To capture her figure, her lines, her face, so that he could remember her forever. Just before the anesthetic kicked in, his gaze turned towards her, imprinting in his mind her image to last an eternity.

She woke up and saw light. After days in the darkness, the glimmers of sunrays hurt her eyes. But she could make out the people standing in front of her. Family and friends who came to wish her well.

He wasn’t among them.

She thought he had abandoned her.

She didn’t know that he had condemned himself to darkness in order to give her light.

She wasn’t aware that he loved her so much, he gave up his eyes for her. That it mattered more to him to make her happy even if it meant losing something he valued.

Can you imagine a love so great and perfect that it would mean more to you to see your partner happy regardless of if it destroyed you? That would make the other’s happiness your priority? That would erase every trace of egoism from your actions?

What if there was one person like that for each of us? And we spend our whole lives searching for them? Someone who would love us so deeply they would literally give up a part of them for our own wellbeing? Selflessly and unconditionally”.

Jennifer was fighting back the tears. She was deeply moved by her godmother’s story, which was interrupted by the sound of her godfather’s white cane sounding at the door.

She had been told he was left blind after an accident.

Only now did she realise he wasn’t the one who had suffered the accident. Her godmother was.

He gave up her eyes for her. And in doing so gave her the world.

Train to change

©Sandra Crook

The train had just pulled into the station and she could already feel the change.

Her tears had now dried up and she was ready – determined really – to start anew. Here, in this picturesque town in the middle of nowhere, she could be whomever she wanted. No-one knew her here. She could begin her life over.

She stepped out of the wagon and took in a deep breath of fresh air.

She didn’t notice him standing at the door of the station.

But to him she was a flash of light, that sign that life was about to get exciting.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Right People, Wrong Times

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“Is it possible to meet the right person at the wrong time?”

“That depends. What makes this the right person and why is it the wrong time?”

She sighed. Unfortunately, not everyone is a mind reader and the things we find it hard to express are usually what we need to communicate the most.

Julie was sitting on the porch gazing at the sunset.

She couldn’t erase from her mind that person she met the other night. They had spent hours talking about anything, everything and nothing. They had shared life experiences, thoughts, ambitions, goals, dreams, all in one night. And she had felt she was falling in love with him, while they were talking.

He had captured her brain and soul and her heart would surely follow.

He made her feel comfortable. Without any fear of judgement or criticism. She felt assured that there was someone on the other end waiting to listen.

As the stars lit up the sky that night, she could see his eyes gleaming. She couldn’t tell if they were radiated by the full moon or his happiness at seeing her smile.

She didn’t know that he felt the same and more. That he had been waiting for her, to get to know her – just how amazing she is – and to do whatever he could to win her over.

All he could think about was holding her tight in his arms and continuing their talk throughout the night until it evolved into the lovers’ stage.

She looked at him with a broken gaze. He understood something was wrong.

“This can’t happen,” she told him. She wouldn’t explain more, not even when he begged her, when he promised that things would be better and nothing would end.

She cried but resisted.

She cried more because she did.

She refused to speak to him, not even when he called or dropped by.

She didn’t want to ruin his life too. That’s what she told her aunt.

“Don’t be silly,” her aunt refuted. “Life is to live it to the last second. Don’t keep wasting it”.

Julie was not to live beyond the summer.

The most important medicine

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They told him he would be foolish to abandon everything he had spent his whole life creating. He had a successful legal office and had a good reputation among his peers.

But when his wife got sick, he didn’t consider it at all. For him it was obvious that his place was by her side. Always and at all costs. It was what they had vowed to each other so many years ago.

He didn’t see it as making sacrifices. He saw it as standing by and supporting the person he loved.

He didn’t care that he spent his whole life being next to her, even when she stopped remembering him. He continued his efforts to remind her of his love for her every day and refused to stop trying or to not be there, for her. So that she would feel safe and cared for.

He believed with all his heart that when you love someone you dedicate to them a part of your life, your time and your interest.

For him being with the person he loved and shared his life with was much more important that work, money and material goods.

Love is sometimes the most important medicine.

The box office event

©Ted Strutz

She had been waiting for the show for weeks. It set a box office record wherever it performed. She had told him and he had excitedly agreed to go. After all, he couldn’t refuse something that got her so happy that she couldn’t stop blabbing while bouncing around happily.

A few days earlier, she awoke by a nightmare. He consoled her, wrapping her in his arms until she fell back asleep.

But then, a peculiar thing happened. Her fear had diffused into him. Unjustifiably and inexplicably.

It was when they were already seated that it happened. And it was life-changing.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Cat-like

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Women are like cats. They like attention but not too much and on their terms, are independent and self-sustainable, move around a room like they own it, like to sleep as much as possible, like to cuddle but only when they want to, and can disappear for hours doing their own thing with no-one really knowing what that is.

Women are like cats in that they can claw their way out of a fight, just as easily as they can start one.

But most of all, they are like cats in the sense that they can reciprocate the love you show them and be the source of your serenity.

Charity was the most cat-like girl Jessop had ever met. He could almost swear to hear her purr when she fell asleep in his arms. She fought for her autonomy and demonstrated that she could handle her affairs on her own. But every now and again she would crawl to his side and press into his chest for a tight hug, something that would make all the troubles she didn’t share just go away.

Jessop liked that she was dynamic and feisty. But he loved it more when she became the vulnerable, chirpy girl he fell in love with. After all, every man adores being the protector of his girl.

But over the past weeks, something happened. It was as if the cat inside her curled up and hid from the world. She wouldn’t talk much, her smile had faded and she barely ate. She wouldn’t respond to his questions, even getting agitated by them and would retreat to her bed, sleeping more than the usual hours.

One morning, Jessop woke up to find a note on his bedstand:

If I show you I need you, take it seriously. It means more than just the words you understand. I do whatever I can to never have to depend on anyone, to avoid showing weakness and fear. But if I tell you I need you by my side, it means I am trusting you to catch me when I fall”.

The note was stained with droplets of tears.

Jessop sprung out of bed, got dressed and left.

He knew where she was. Cats always have a safe place. Somewhere they think no-one knows about, but if you follow them closely they’ll let you find them.

Happy Endings

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Did you always know you would end up together?” the little girl asked her Grandma who was baking a cake for her wedding anniversary. The child loved kitchen-table talk. It was the place where real-life stories were told. Where she realised that true love exists in reality and that sometimes, fairy tales do come true even after many hardships. It was all a matter of how much you wanted something, and how much you were willing to try for it.

Her grandmother smiled as she mixed the dough in a big round bowl. “Well, to be honest, I wasn’t sure. But I had a feeling this one was special. That there would be something more to this man who courted me so decisively.

You weren’t sure? Because I was certain!” Grandpa interrupted as he abruptly entered the kitchen and surprised Grandma with a peck on the cheek. She still blushed, even after all these years.

The child clapped happily. She was witnessing a couple who never aged and who lasted through time.

How did you know, Grandpa?

Well, I just did. It’s like an intuition. That special feeling when I first looked into your grandmother’s eyes. I just knew we’d click. As if our fates were from that moment tied together”.

Grandma smiled as she continued her baking. Her eyes sparkled as she recalled those first moments of their encounter.

I wish I will be lucky enough to find a love like yours,” the little girl said.

I’m sure you will,” Grandma responded. “When the time comes, that person who will cherish you and treat you like the most important treasure in the world will appear.”

The child sighed in optimism as she watched the elderly couple take care of each other as if they were still young lovers, as if none of the decades had passed over them.

“Those who love deeply never grow old; they may die of old age, but they die young” – Benjamin Franklin

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