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Perfect
As I round the corner, I see her.
Staring off at the fields, sitting on the bed of my pickup truck.
She is wearing my Aviators, I still believe she stole them that night
I forgot them in her car.
There is nothing she could say at this point that could force me to stop,
turn around, question my life’s purpose- only to walk away from what I have.
As I think I walk, just as all of mankind does. By this point she has turned to me,
smiling, her lips closed tightly as they always are right before she is about to
say my favorite three words in this entire planet.
“How’s it going?” She says. I smile-I always do- and she laughs and bows her head
for a moment and by the time she has lifted it back to its original position I have
reached her. For an awkward moment we stare into each other’s eyes;
I can honestly say it felt like we never had before.
So we kissed and I held her close for a moment before I realized
a soft breeze had come upon us and I looked at the sky and noticed that
the blue skies had complemented her brown eyes perfectly.
And just by standing there with her, I felt that life was going to be great.
Perhaps we would get married and start a family; I could obtain that job
that I have wanted since I was seven years old; I could do show her off as
my beautiful wife and she would shrug it off and pretend like it is nothing.
But here, in our little world, nothing is nothing.
It all makes sense.
Everything.
So I look back down at her and we share our moment of eye contact again and
Finally I say three words in return, “Let’s go, Claire.”
So she smiles and we get into my truck and prepare to leave this place
and journey off into whatever the world has to offer us, me and her
in our little 1950’s life.
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Times were simpler.