Our Love Story (So Far…)- Chapter One

Disclaimer: Please be reminded; any names of people portrayed in this series are altered to protect their identities.

Thomas wasted no time; the next morning, he called and we set a day to meet. I counted down the days, and when the day arrived, my stomach was in knots. I tried on nearly every outfit I owned, changed my hair and makeup three times, and I may have gone through an entire pack of gum before my phone buzzed and he’d arrived. I found myself rolling my eyes at my frazzled nerves; I hadn’t felt this frazzled over a guy since elementary school.

I took a deep breath to try and calm the butterflies and walked out to his car. It had to be one of the brightest and sunniest summer days of my life. As we drove to the theatre, I sat back and enjoyed the moment. The windows were down, the sun was radiant, and for the first time since our fort night, the moment just felt right.

After the movie, we headed over to a nearby Italian restaraunt, but as we took a seat, I grew even more nervous. The draw to the movie theatre is it is a date location that doesn’t involve a lot of actual interaction. At a restaraunt, you don’t really have anything to take the focus away from you, making the vulnerability much harder to ignore.

At first, I was a bit quiet, but before we knew it, we were talking and laughing away, not realizing it was time for the restaraunt to close. He paid the bill and we walked out to his car. Along the way, he asked, “well, now what?”

I sighed and thought for a moment. I certainly didn’t want the night to end, but I also didn’t want to come across as clingy; which is no easy feat, I’ll have you know. I’m notorious for my tendancy to cling.

He brought up the idea of ice cream, suggesting we pull up to the airport runway viewing area to watch the planes come in and take off. I agreed and before we knew it, we were taking in the sights of the airport in his car. Talking back and forth, I started to learn how passionate he was about aviation and his work in the industry. It was nice to be around someone who still had dreams careerwise. Most men I had dated seemed nearly devoid of those aspirations; this one was in a word, refreshing.

Our idle chatter started to diminish and there was a momentary silence before he began to speak again.
“So, I have a question for you…” he lead. I knew what he was going to ask, and by the little grin on his face, I could tell he knew the answer already. He asked if we could go steady. Of course, I was already smitten. The car had gone quiet again as I remained in my seat blushing like a starstruck idiot. He nuzzled his head against my arm for a moment and motioned me over to cuddle up to his side. It didn’t take much convincing.

I stopped and looked up at him and we leaned in and shared our first kiss. I immediately felt a rush of warmth flow through my veins and the kiss deepened. Before I knew it, the car’s windows had fogged up and it was getting quite late. We both chuckled at the situation as he started his car to take me home. He realized we needed to wait for the car’s ventilation to clear up the windows.
“Oh, we’ve got more time,” he stated, and he immediately returned to my lips and we indulged ourselves for a few more minutes before he took me home and I stumbled up to my room in a dizzy stupor.

I felt a weakness in my knees and a warmth in my chest that painted a nearly permanent smile on my face. I didn’t know what life had in store for us, but I was eager to find out. For the first time in years, this felt right.

Girl in Love In The Sunset
(to be continued…)


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Prologue: The Patient (Deadman Wonderland; The Crow and the Swan)- Part One

I remember waking up in a strange and unfamiliar place; surrounded by strange, unfamiliar faces. I can’t recall much more than that. Even now as I wait to reach my destination, wherever that may be, I feel the farther away I get from the laboratory, the less I remember; the less I feel. I’ll never forget her, though. I can’t explain it, but she was different than the others. We connected. I know it sounds sad, but in a way, she’s the closest thing to family I think I’m ever going to know…

Her name was Dr. Noriko Masuda. She was an older woman, but her eyes were always young and full of life. If you looked really close, you could see a tinge of something darker; not sinister, just…regretful. Hers is the first face I can remember.
“Ah. So you’ve decided to join the living,” she would say. I was confused and afraid. I had no recollection of where I came from, nor could I recall my name. There I was, strapped to a hospital bed under a harsh white light, with a strange foreign pain all throughout my body. The doctor pulled out a needle from the small table at her side and flicked it a couple times. I tried to wrestle and break away from my confinement, but the needle had already punctured my skin. She must have seen the panic in my eyes. “Don’t worry, dear Evangeline. It’s only to numb the pain. You’re going to be awfully achy for some time, after all. As is the nature of surgery.”

Evangeline? Is that my name…? Somehow I doubted it. It didn’t fit quite right. And what did she mean by ‘surgery’? What surgery? I had so many questions, but so few answers. As I started to gain the courage to speak, darkness began to close in on my vision. Enveloped in the undeniable urge to sleep, I closed my eyes and drifted into the darkness once more. “Sleep now, Evangeline. The rest will do you good.”

I awoke a second time, but the harsh white light was gone and replaced by a faint glow outside the door across the room. My arms were no longer bound to my sides, but I could still feel constriction upon my ankles. Upon the small table at my bedside was a glass of water, two white pills, and a handwritten note. I raised my arm to take the note, fighting the feeling of pins and needles as my body protested against the movement.

 

Drink the water and take those pills as soon as you’ve regained consciousness. It should keep the soreness at bay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

 

I was skeptical, but even more so, I was parched. I reluctantly took the pills and downed the glass of water. Just as I set down the glass, there was a light knock at the room’s doorway. In it stood the doctor that had put me out the last time I recall being awake. She made her way to the side of my bed and pulled up a nearby stool.
“Smart girl; I know the pills aren’t the best-tasting things in the world, but believe me, you’d thank me if you knew what pain you would’ve been in for if you hadn’t taken the advice,” she smiled as she filled the glass with more water. I took the glass and shot it back without a second thought. I set it back down on the table as I found my voice.
“Who am I?” I asked. The question sounded more like a croak than an intelligible sentence, but she understood me somehow.
“Well, to be honest, those in my position don’t have access to that information.What I can tell you is that you were randomly selected to help our organization find and test new viruses and antibodies to benefit the medical world, and in turn, mankind. You should be very proud,” she explained with a half-hearted grin. The confusion in my eyes triggered a flash on concern in her eyes as her grin faded.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you any more than that, Evangeline. I could get in a great deal of trouble,” she said with a frown.
“Why are you calling me Evangeline if you don’t know who I am?” I asked. She sighed and looked away, but in her gaze I saw a trace of sadness.
“You remind me remarkably of my younger sister. Her name was also Evangeline, but sadly, she passed away some time ago. Your resemblance is uncanny. I suppose you could call that bittersweet sentiment on my part.”
I looked away in silence, unsure of how to respond. The doctor rose from her spot on the side of the hospital bed and said, “I will let you get back to resting. You’ve got a long road to recovery ahead of you.” She walked out of the room and quietly closed the door behind her. I lay back in my bed, unable to sleep as I struggled to remember some shred of who I was. Anything about my past. Did I have a family? A life?

Hours passed, but my memory remained as hazed as it was when I woke up the first time. The frustration born of helplessness began to set in. I don’t remember falling asleep that night, but to this day, I desperately wish I never woke up to what was waiting for me when I arose in that laboratory for the final time…

(to be continued…)


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My Love Story (So Far…)- Chapter 1

Alright; it’s going to get a little personal up in here. So obviously, I will not be using names, but if I’m going to be speaking on the subject of l’amour, I suppose the easiest way to see my points of view are through understanding where I’ve come from, and how my ideals have been built on the subject.

I believe love is constant, and never truly has an ending, so obviously, this will be in parts as my own never-ending story.


My earliest ideas of love stemmed long before I’d like to admit. My first love, believe it or not, started in first grade (bear with me, I know how it sounds). As a child, I loved my fairy tales and Disney movies. My idea of love was illogical, unrealistic; utopian. I was painfully shy, and horribly awkward (that never changed, even to this day). I had developed a bad case of puppy love for a boy one grade above myself. As each year passed, we were friends, and I said and did nothing to show I cared for him beyond what he saw. With each passing year, that puppy love grew to much more. However, the time came where he had moved on to junior high. As shy as I was, I had not worked up the courage to ask to keep in touch. I said nothing and returned home upon my last day of school with a heavy heart and a sensation I had never known.

Upon thought, I became resolved to the decision that I would wait. It was only a year; I would see him again, and when I did, I swore I would be braver than I ever was. We would pick up where we left off and I honestly believed it was ‘meant to be.’ Yes, it’s very cliche, I know; but I had a completely untarnished view and a belief in the prospect of true love the way it was portrayed in a child’s fantasy. To my dismay, halfway through my final year of elementary, my parents approached me with the news that we were moving away. I was devastated to be leaving my friends, but just as dismayed of the idea that I wouldn’t see him in junior high.

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We moved shortly after. Yet even so, I promised him silently that we would meet again. Not one single day went by where he didn’t cross my mind, and I strayed from any others who showed interest until the social digital age started to really gain traction about six  years later. I discovered Facebook (cue dramatic music). Having found my friends from elementary school, I came across his page and sat in front of my screen with my fingers hovering above the keys, unsure of what to say. Nine years of devoted resolve and undeniable faith in a love never realized, four of those years with no contact whatsoever; that was a long time for such young love. There he was, just within my reach, and I didn’t know where to begin.

So finally, I opted for a simple opening. “Hello. We went to elementary school together. How’ve you been.” Etcetera, etcetera. I could feel my heart beating harder than ever before as I waited for what seemed like forever for his response. When the reply came, the world shook.

He didn’t have any memory of me whatsoever.

Not my name, nor the memories I’d thought we had made.

The conversation died shortly after and that was the last time we ever spoke.

Nine years I’d held on with nothing but my faith in love to keep it alive, and I’d found him once more only to discover it was all in my head.

I was devastated. My views on love began to change into less of a lady-in-waiting’s dream, and more of a Frankenstein’s monster. Days later, I was to take on my first day of high school, and I no longer knew what to believe.

I suppose you could call that Chapter One, but this story does continue. Much has happened since that sad day, but that is a story for next time.

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