Sweet November
She sat back, knitting the woolen scarf, and pressed "PLAY." The music came on slowly with chords of another song in the beginning. She hummed with it, "today is gonna be the day..." Then- "I don't feel as if i know you/You take up all my tiiime." Slowly the music pulled her into a different world; a world of the past, things of long ago yet not so far away.
Different images flashed gracefully before her eyes, like a movie or a dream supplied with music, all of them with him there. They were hugging= the very first time since he'd broken her heart; The first time she knew he'd be the one to mend it again. Then she was in a corner, talking late into the night, into the morning, confiding all her fears about a friend. The first time he heard the CD- how he loved it- and she began to cry on his shoulder while strong arms comforted her. Suddenly they were skipping down her hill together, hand-in-hand. Then he'd be sitting across from her; he's be in the brown desk chair, leaning back, resting his head on her dresser, peering thoughtfully into her eyes as she sat cross-legged on the bed, smiling. His eyes would light up happily then, she fondly remembered, when he thought he had an answer to one of her random philosophical questions. Then later, they'd be listeing to the CD again and he would hold her head in his hands, smiling whimsically as the music played, "Here's a thought for every man as he tries to understand what's in his hands." Homecoming, when she hoped so desperatly he'd ask her to dance even though another was clinging to her like the morning dew to the grass. Weeks later, she was grinning, attempting to teach him to gypsy music. Laughing merrily together they'd be watching movies with her mom, joking about them later after he pretended to leave, then crept into her room giggling delightedly at fooling her parents, and they'd lie together cuddling and talking about their lives. The time he leaped over to her and gave her a great kiss in mid-sentence; they'd fallen backward onto the cat who suffered in indignent silence until sheepishly he'd helped her up again.
The music quietly played in the background as she came back, counting stitches, "How many special people change?/How many lives are getting strange?" That threw her into a fresh wave of the past.
Days were short and it was cold all the time. She remembered when she told him. Told him how he wasn't the only one to have kissed her in the past few days. His face, at first, relieved- is that all? Then, she too was relieved. But she remembered the days that followed, and how he too turned cold and dark. Even the bright sun was no comfort to her. Then, somberly walking through the graveyard together crunching hidden white leaves. Both lost in their own thoughts, yet how she wished for him to speak to her, to let her into warm his cold cavernous soul. She thought of how a tear dropped, but she had hurridly wiped it away not wishing to be weak.
The CD began to repeat. Still wanting to stay in the other worlds where, even if it was bad, she had been able to see him, to touch him. She slowly changed the CD, to a mix of her own, it began with one from the CD before, "I don't believe that anybody feels the way i do, about you nooow..." Tears threatened to drop, as she tried to blink them away. She bitterly regretted that second world. But now that he was gone, she guessed it didn't matter. Still, how she longed, how she yearned for November. Sweet November
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