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Topic: TEARS - (as in crying) (10/04/04)
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TITLE: Best friends By Amy Collins 10/07/04 |
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“I hate him” I said for the umpteenth time that day. “Hes such a…a…jack donkey!” I hugged my flower pillow, and tried to hold back the tears. Deep down, though, I knew the truth. I didn’t hate him-I hated me. I must’ve done something wrong-that was the only explenation. Maybe I didn’t act right, talk right, or wear the right clothes. Maybe I changed my ways without knowing it, maybe I don’t look right, or good enough. I looked over to see my reflection in the mirror, it was then that I noticed them. The poems framed on the wall. For as long as I could remember I would frame and hang poems up on my wall. Some I wrote, some my past boyfriends,friends, and family wrote. They spread across that whole wall, and I was running out of room.
Most of the frames were black or silver or dark red-but one stuck out above the rest. It was a pearly white, my best friend had given it to me along with the a poem he had found that he thought I would like.
The night has a thousand eyes,
The day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.
The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet when the light of a whole life dies
When its love is done
I gasped at the poem, that spoke so clearly. Something urged me to call my friend, who had known I would need those words. He had been there in the past, when I needed him. But he was the one who had warned me not to fall for this man, and listen to his lustful words. I was the one who didn’t listen to his great advice, and went on instead. I was so afraid he would say “I told you so” that I didn’t even want to talk to him.
The phone rang, and I reached over to pick it up, thinking it was my dad at work, checking up on me. Surprise hit me in the face when someone elses voice came thorugh the reciever. “You need to tell me something. God told me to call you because something is wrong. Let it out.” And so I told it all to him-everything. The words he used, the actions, the way I felt, and when it was all over I bit my lip in fear.
“It’s okay.” That’s all he said before I broke down. I heard him hang up and I thought he was mad.
Shortly afterward the doorbell rang and I knew who it was. I didn’t go downstairs to answer the door, hoping he would just leave. But after a few minutes he opened the door to my room. “Come here,” he said, holding his arms out. And without thinking, I ran to him.
I kept muttering how sorry I was-but he just told me to shh, and whiped away my tears. This is all I want, I thought suddenly. This is the attention I was striving for. It was right in front of me! Thank-you, God, I thought, for opening my eyes.