The sky was dark and foreboding, obtaining a glimpse at that sky, however, was Benjamin Drury. He had eyes almost as dark as the sky was tonight, like circles of charcoal surrounded by the whites of his eyes. He laid in is King bed, alone; and while half-sleeping, half-looking up, he remembered the very reason he was alone that night.

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A trio walked along the sidewalk; a happy couple wanting to buy their first house, and a realtor trying to seal the deal. The realtor was tall, thin, and cleanly shaven. He had the walk of a man who knew he meant something. He had the face of a 30 year old, the body of a 20 year old, and the salt-and-pepper hair of a 40 year old.

The couple wore jackets, and Benjamin made sure to hold her tight. A sudden gust of wind caused the 24 year old man to hold his partner close, and also caused the fall leaves to waltz about their feet. He looked into her eyes, and the writer in him came out.

“When you see beauty, you tend to make a double-take, but when it comes to your eyes, I’m afraid to. Not because the beauty isn’t there, it is, but because I’m afraid that if I make a double-take, you’ll be blinking, and I’ll have to wait that much longer to see your eyes again. Your beautiful blue eyes, that baby blue color that makes my throat clench and my words leave. You may think it’s stupid to think that, but when I look at your eyes, time slows down, and all I want to do is be locked there forever.”

As a songwriter, Benjamin came up with clever ways to express his love for Abigail. She loved the romantic side of him, and each time he said something, she smiled. He thought she had a beautiful smile, and it was one that lit up the room. She didn’t smile this time, she just looked on, and made him feel like something was wrong. Instead, she looked at James, the realtor, and mouthed words that Benjamin could not see. James laughed, and pointed to the front of a house.

It was the picture perfect suburban home. The grass was cut, the window-panes, painted, and the picket fence out front was in perfect condition. As they walked in through the immaculately white front door, the aroma of freshly baked cookies wafted through the opening.

“Oh Abby, can you imagine living here?” Benjamin asked with an excited tone.

“Yeah, I can, Ben. It seems like the perfect house.”

“It seems as if it’s more than perfect.” He said, and turning to the realtor he asked, “How much is it?”

“It’s $150,000; which may seem like a lot, but if you have kids, the schools are great.” He couldn’t muster this sentence without laughing. And as he said it, his scheming eyes made a dart towards Abigail. She looked away feverishly.

“Abby, honey, do you want to get it? We have the money for it.”

“Yes, Ben, I say we do.”

They walked into the kitchen, and James got the paperwork out. Benjamin whispered into Abigail’s ear, and as James got everything ready, they walked outside. They sat on the cold, concrete of the front porch. He grabbed her hand, and started talking.

“Abigail. I’ve been with you for over a year now, and I feel as if you know me more than I know myself. Talking to you has gotten to the point where I feel as if I know what you’re about to say before you even mutter a sound. I feel as if I could talk to you forever and never get bored. And the only thing I want at this point in time is to be able to say you’re mine forever and ever. I want to be able to go to sleep after seeing your eyes, and wake up knowing you’ll be there.”

“Oh, Benjamin,” Abigail interrupted.

“Please, don’t talk, just listen.” He said. “I love you Abigail, and you know that. I want to, as I was saying, wake up and see your face. I want to know that we’ll be together, and I want to know that I can always say you’ll be mine. I want to know,” He took a dramatic pause, “If you’ll marry me.”

He pulled out a ring the size of a quarter, and the color of a diamond. The light bounced off of it in every which way. It was beautiful, and it sparkled. Abigail looked at it, and didn’t know what to say.

“Oh, Benjamin,” Abigail said again, her face was bright red. “I love you too, and I’m sorry that I’ve been acting so weird lately, but there is nothing I’d rather do than marry you.”

He smiled, and so did she; the first time she had smiled at him in a week. He grabbed her hand in his left, and with his right hand, he put the ring on her finger. They had an embrace, and it was one that lasted for a long time; one that seemed as if they were lovers who hadn’t seen each other for months.

She left the embrace, and no matter how much he wanted it to never end, he knew it must. She walked inside, and Ben stayed out on the porch. Without his jacket, he was cold, but the warmth inside his heart made up for the lack of it. He pulled out his cell phone, and called his mother, she needed to know the news.

“Mom, I’m getting married.”

“You are?!”

“Yes, Mom, she said yes.”

They continued to talk, and each time he said something, he smiled uncontrollably. As he filled her in with all the information – the fact that she said yes to marrying him and buying the house – he told her that he must go and be with the one he loved.

He hung up the phone and turned to walk into the house. He waited a little while, just standing there, to let all of what has happened to sink in. He thought about what happened on that front porch, and he smiled for the twentieth time in a minute. No feeling could match his, no thoughts could top his, and no longing could compare to the longing he felt to be alone with Abigail. He wanted to tell her all that she meant to him, he wanted to tell her that she made him happy. Most of all, he wanted to show her he cared.

He pushed open the white door, his very own white door. And he walked onto the wood flooring, his wood flooring. He stepped forward, and imagined the family pictures that could go in various places. Then he saw James and Abigail in the kitchen. Abigail wasn’t signing papers with James, it was much different. Abigail had just told him that she would marry him, and she was his; but there she was, kissing James as if nothing had happened with him.

He watched, and his jaw hit the floor. His face went numb, his thoughts drained from his brain, that is, except for the thought of killing James at that point in time. He had taken his fiancée and kissed her. He decided to not break it up, she obviously was happy, and so he walked out the door.

The door made a very loud noise, so Abigail looked up. She saw that Ben had just walked out, and that meant that he had seen them. She decided to rush after him.

“Ben, wait!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. “I have to explain.”

“Abby, there’s no explaining to be done. Just tell me that you are going to be happier with him, and I’m fine.”

“Ben. When I was working as a waitress, before I met you, he came in. I had just gotten over this one guy, and he seemed like the perfect way to get completely over him; so I went for it.” She continued her story, “He was amazing, and he swept me off my feet, and so every time I see him, I remember our history.”

“So, you are my fiancée, and recently at that; and you decide that your ‘history’ with another guy is more important than me?”

“I guess that’s how you could say it.”

“Well then, I’m sorry Abigail, but I’m going to buy the house; and I’m afraid I won’t ask you to be in it with me. I think I’d like my ring back.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said as she took the ring off her finger.

Ben walked away after getting the ring, and went into the house. Abigail could have heard the yelling of the two men if she would have wanted to, but she tuned them out. She wanted to be alone, so she sat on the front porch to think. She knew she made a mistake, but she’d never admit it. That would just make it too hard on herself.

James walked out, and asked Abigail to come with him, naturally she accepted. They left in James’ car, never to be seen by Ben again. He watched her leave from the window, wishing it didn’t have to be like this; wishing she would come to her senses. He went to the bedroom, pulled out his laptop and wrote.

“I’ve recently felt the power of love. And I’ve also recently lost that feeling. I’ve found that love is something you can’t take for granted, and that when she tells you that she loves you, you can’t think she will forever. She may love you when she says it, but you’ve got to make sure you try hard enough to keep her loving you. I made that mistake today, and I lost her because I was wrong, not her. All the nights we talked, all the times we saw each other, all the things I wrote for her were not enough. I loved her, and I still do. I miss her, and I always will. I’m never going to forget what happened today, because today changed my life; I just wish I could say for the better. I will go on now, not seeing that beauty she possesses. I will continue to live, but I won’t be as happy as I was. I must think about what happened here today, and decide whether or not life is worth it.”

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He woke up from his dream, or nightmare I should say, and screamed; for the seventh time this week. Three months haven’t helped him cope with the fact that she’s really gone. Phone calls now and then make him think he has hope, she “misses” him, and he misses her. His charcoal eyes light up at the thought of her, and they have a sense of longing as well. He sat up in bed, and looked in the mirror; he had a new lyric in mind:

“Oh, she’s just like a star; beautiful, elegant, radiant, wonderful. One night she’s there, and one night she’s gone; un-predictable, un-obtainable, un-resistible.” He said this aloud with a solemn expression. He couldn’t resist her, but he wanted to.