Rebecca

K I've been in a self pitying mood recently which has produced this and a really depresing piece of music course work. To say the least its not my normal style but hey fuck you its my blog.
anyway l8r
TJFNW


Rebecca


Have you ever loved some one but never realised, oh you realise but too late. Always when you’ve lost contact or their dead or any other way you are no longer together that’s when it hits you.
That’s how I felt about her; I knew I loved her in that social dating way but never the soul tearing gut wrenching reality. The real love. Not until a lot later, when I‘d left it too late.
There’s a question, what is love?? Think about it before you read the rest of this, think of that person, either you’ve met or dreamt of, just think.
Before I actually write this you need to be told, this isn’t Rebecca in reality, it’s how I think of her now, how my mind has twisted and reshaped the past and her with it.
Here it is:

She was beautiful, not in the obvious glamour model way but in a real in depth beauty. She was petite, no taller than 5’ 6” her long brown hair flowed down her back, a river running through the contours of her back. He skin had a slight Mediterranean tan; she stood before the mirror, the light from behind her giving her an angelic quality. She looked at her self naked, her figure was plain, and no real curves but nothing unsightly. She cupped her breasts in her hands they were pert and firm admired them, her best feature, then moved to the bed and picked up the dress and looked at the clock. She had half an hour to get ready.

He was in his room guitar on his lap strumming random minor chords. A book fell from the shelf. He swore and went to pick it up then saw the photo, her…

She went to the wardrobe and got her shoes, the black strappy ones, where had she got these, him…

The thought passed away she moved to the dresser picked up the framed photo and kissed the image of her boyfriend and continued to dress.

He went back to his guitar but his head was full of her, the chords became more melancholy and darker. He played better than he ever had before. Why hadn’t he told her…? Why had he let her…? He swore pulled on his shoes, grabbed a jacket and left the house.

There was a knock on the door she went to answer it, but he wasn’t due for 10 minutes…

He’d walked for ten minutes but now he was here

She opened the door…



He sat on the bench lost in his thoughts…

He was early she smiled and let him in.