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measured_wordsJust a short vignette, probably one of a few I feel like writing out today...
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“Jennifer Madeline Turner.
I love you, I love you, I love you.”
He liked to watch her sleep, in these rare moments when she seemed at peace. No nightmares, no night terrors, no anxious frowns. Just real rest. Her hair spilled out across the sheets like a wound. People said all sorts of things about redheads – kissed by fired, touched by the sun. Luck of the Irish. Other nonsense. But fire and the sun only burned those who got too close. And Irish luck all seemed to sour.
“Jennifer Madeline Turner.
I love you, I love you, I love you.”
No one understood how he felt about her, leastwise Alex himself. He couldn’t explain. He’d known her since high school, and even through the roughest patches those days had offered them both, he’d wanted nothing more than to be by her side. To watch over her and be close and wanted. She’d been gone from his life for years after the fire that changed everything. He thought he’d been doing well for himself until she showed up again, and he felt the great gaping hole that was her absence.
“Jennifer Madeline Turner.
I love you, I love you, I love you.”
The repetition comforted him, though he couldn’t say why. It just seemed right. Felt complete. He knew she didn’t feel the same. Yes, she cared for him, maybe even loved him in her own broken, twisted, way. But this was more than he could express. And maybe more than love, or not just, or…. He didn’t know. But she could, had, and would hurt him, time and time again. Every time it was a fresh wound, that stung and bled and scarred. Sometimes she didn’t even know or mean it. But as much pain as she caused him, she was part of him. He couldn’t give her up if it meant his life.
“Jennifer Madeline Turner.
I need you, I need you, I need you.”I need you, I need you, I need you.”
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“Jennifer Madeline Turner.
I love you, I love you, I love you.”
He liked to watch her sleep, in these rare moments when she seemed at peace. No nightmares, no night terrors, no anxious frowns. Just real rest. Her hair spilled out across the sheets like a wound. People said all sorts of things about redheads – kissed by fired, touched by the sun. Luck of the Irish. Other nonsense. But fire and the sun only burned those who got too close. And Irish luck all seemed to sour.
“Jennifer Madeline Turner.
I love you, I love you, I love you.”
No one understood how he felt about her, leastwise Alex himself. He couldn’t explain. He’d known her since high school, and even through the roughest patches those days had offered them both, he’d wanted nothing more than to be by her side. To watch over her and be close and wanted. She’d been gone from his life for years after the fire that changed everything. He thought he’d been doing well for himself until she showed up again, and he felt the great gaping hole that was her absence.
“Jennifer Madeline Turner.
I love you, I love you, I love you.”
The repetition comforted him, though he couldn’t say why. It just seemed right. Felt complete. He knew she didn’t feel the same. Yes, she cared for him, maybe even loved him in her own broken, twisted, way. But this was more than he could express. And maybe more than love, or not just, or…. He didn’t know. But she could, had, and would hurt him, time and time again. Every time it was a fresh wound, that stung and bled and scarred. Sometimes she didn’t even know or mean it. But as much pain as she caused him, she was part of him. He couldn’t give her up if it meant his life.
“Jennifer Madeline Turner.
I need you, I need you, I need you.”I need you, I need you, I need you.”
