The Original Fake Audrey.

Back a year ago, I was buoyant. I was in love. His smile was my warmth. He was well-mannered, and he was interested…in me. He bought me back to a place that I never wanted to leave. I could just lie like I did every night to just listen to the same songs that I knew he loved or that just made me imagine him. I thought as I lay back in my bed with a wondrous blank expression on my countenance…tossing and turning to over analyzing the stuff that he whispered to me. There were never terms to describe how joyous the feelings were. I could forget for an instant, about all my troubles and be normal. I wasn’t weeping for there ignorance. I wasn’t fighting with there foolishness. I thought, I wrote. How I wanted to be in a meadow of flowers or just grass and abandon land, far away…and maybe lay and smell the delighted day, that wasn’t disintegrating. I would finally feel liberated, as the creatures and nerves in my stomach fluttered. Every other day I would sit by the swings and pick a flower just to picture myself in that meadow as the sun finally shined on me and the clouds of gloom and sadness had faded…for a second. Then I waited by the swing for the final time after many days and realized you were never going to show up, that it was my mind that thought I could make you care enough to meet me after all this time. The clouds began to create a melancholy setting and all I could do was run in the rain….my flower dead. My hope gone. The smoothing sound of the music still ran though my head the night I gave up. I still played the songs as if they were going to bring you back. I still read my diary from past times I talked to you, while the unstoppable giggles and discomforting blushes I produced effortlessly continued. I couldn’t even rip the papers of disclosure….until today. The realization of knowing you never gave me the desire to visit the swings again, the other girl made me feel inferior now. Your smile made me feel uneasy with misery. The fact that every time I saw your face I remembered. Every time I tried to revisit the swings I ran away as the sky threw bolts of lighting hazardously. Today I finally visited it for the last time and sobbed. This was the actual farewell. I used to never think I would cry when I thought of him. I used to think I was peaceful now. Today I threw the flower on the swing, the flower didn’t die but my heart almost did. It was my interment to my tormented soul. To finally flutter and feel even more liberated. I soared instead of running for closure, now it’s almost sunny in that aspect in my life. Now I’m finally gone.