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Gun Point- the short story
Gun Point The sat there in the room, quietly, making no moves. No one else was in the house. She was on the bed wearing no more that her bra and panties; a blanket was draped over her shoulders. He was sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the room, next to a window. He wore only his boxers. They sat there staring at each other. She scooted back to the wall and hugged her knees, resting her head on them. Minutes went by; not once did they take their eyes off each other, nor did they say a word.
The look on her face was regret as she thought about the fight they had just went through. So many times they fought but not once was like this. If she never had said “I love you” they wouldn’t be in this mess. But can you really blame her for how she feels? The words have been said though; they have made their damage, and none of it can be taken back. His reaction was not what she wanted and certainly not what she had expected. To say she doesn’t mean it, that her feelings are just getting in the way again. You would have thought that after three years of them being together, of just spending days lying in bed watching movies or sleeping, pushing each other around in the park, and then her favorite; the last kiss of the day before she fell asleep in his arms, that he would say it back.
Day after day he would say her feelings were just getting in the way. They would fight and make up an hour or so later. But there was something about this one that’s different. The girl sighed and looked over toward the door then back to him. Her mouth opened as if to say something then it closed. His expression changed from anger to sorrow. He stood up and started pacing back and forth. Her eyes followed him with every step he took. This moment had been coming for months now. She knew that she had to play her cards right to stay with him. One wrong move and he would pull the trigger turning her heart cold. That was just made. She didn’t think that “I love you” would be it. And now sitting there in silence was the only way she knew to fix this.
Softly, her expression changed to anger. Her mouth opened again and this time she spoke. “Why do I put up with this?” He stopped and looked at her shocked.
“First you say you love me and then you turn on me?” Tell me how you can do that,” he said.
She moved to the edge of the bed. “I’m sick of this!” she said, her volume growing. “How many shots do I have to take for you to be satisfied? What do I have to do to impress you? How many more years is it going to take for you to finally let me know how you feel?” He stood there with his mouth hanging open and anger in his eyes. “I love you to death and I try to show you the best that I can. At times it feels that you do too but when I finally get the nerve to say it…” she paused letting tears run down her face. He started to reach for her but stopped. As much as he hated to see her cry and he really did want to comfort her, there was the feeling that it was all going to end. She started talking again, “it seems to me that you are afraid to show how you really feel. Like you’re afraid to say it. And that not how you should be, not when you are with me.”
“I-I-I-I…” He started stuttering but she stopped him. She got up off the bed and started getting dressed. He just stood there not knowing what he should do. With in minutes she was leaning up against the bed watching him and he was finally realizing that he did love her but it would not work out because he could not change. He had spent 3 years trying to change her instead of realizing that he was with her for her.
“I’m sorry but I don’t think I can go through this anymore,” she said, her voice filled with sympathy but kind of shaky with regret. Hs gave him one last kiss goodbye and walked out.
Every once in a while they would see each other. She was always with her friends who never did care for him and he was with his friends who adored her. Not again did they speak for fear of awkward moments. But he would look at her with sympathy and sorrow; wishing he still had her. She simply looked away with pity, trying to hide her regret. I guess they always knew he would receive the last shot.
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My love anda flower
You offered me a flower, And I took it. I offered you my love, And you accepted it.
We had some good times, And a lot of laughs. As time went by, We got older, but still felt so young.
We were so happy, We thought nothing could break us up. I don’t know what happened, I guess we finally grew up.
My love is no longer yours, And as for the flower…
It sits on my desk, Wilting in sorrow. Reminding me of what could have been, But never will be.
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