by Branden Shipley
And there we stood, staring at each other. Her face distorted through my welling tears. A soft comforting hand reaches up to guide my choppy black bangs, whispering, with a sad smile lingering in her voice,
“You’re too damn pretty to cry.” With a pitiful sobbing chuckle I attempt to wipe away the tears and mascara runs. She leads me to the stairs, Where I lay in her embrace.
A horn honks expectantly from outside the rain streaked window. She kisses me softly and passionately on the lips, the way that only a forever parting lover can. She turns, lifts the handle from the top of her black rolling suitcase, walks to the door. There she lingers, under the crystal chandelier with a hand on the knob, and eyes turned dejectedly at her feet.
“I’ll always love you.”
She looks up from the floor allowing her sad, dark eyes to smile at me one last time.
“I know.”
“Please stay.”
“Be strong, my sweet Mylisa.”
With one final, sorrowful smile she opens the door and steps out into the grey curtain of steadily falling rain and out of my life. I walk into the doorway, not caring about the bitter cold rain seeping into my blouse, and watch her walk away from me for the last time. I watch the water droplets arch off the heels of her dampening shoes. I know that rainy days will now forever remind me of red converse, and the love that left with them.
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