Summer Bliss

Helloo, this is a flash fiction piece that I managed to write instead of doing homework. :p Enjoy! If you like my story, please rate and/or comment. Thank you c:

Chapter 1

All of the self-discipline that is instilled within me is required to prevent me from getting up this very instant and running straight to the very spot where I waited for him, every single day. I could find this spot blindly; my fingers would trace the bark of the trees as they always do, the rough bark swirling underneath my fingertips, my footsteps soft on the blanket of still-green summer leaves, the buggy, humid air causing my forehead to glisten. Then I would reach the crossroads of our secret, forested paths, and I would wait, listening to the mating calls of the birds, high in the trees, gazing at the rays of sunlight that peek through the leaves of the many trees.

Brilliant electric blue eyes that constantly held my gaze were home to his soul; he truly was unable to lie while I made eye contact with him. What I had with him was absolutely, undeniably real. His hands were rough, and yet soft. They were nimble enough to shape pottery, but calloused enough to cause me to assume he either gripped his tools too tightly or he did enough odd jobs to earn these odd callouses. I often wondered what each callus's story was; believe me, I know that's something crazy to ponder over, but that's honestly something I was curious about.

Once he met me at our crossroads, we would walk out to the swimming hole and sit together, talking. It was in this spot he kissed me for the first time; in this spot he told me he loved me for the first time; in this spot he discussed our future for the first time. This swimming hole was the birth of my relationship with him, and yet I cannot allow myself to visit there again. I might fall asleep there, waiting for him. The sad thing is, he will never come.

Deep into summer, we were out at the swimming hole.
It was a regular thing we did, listening to the insects sing, watching the cranes
fly overhead.
The fireflies were dancing in the twilight and the frogs croaked.
In that moment, he ceased speaking.
I looked at him, curious, because his voice had a certain melody to it that I loved. He smiled, and cupped my chin with his thumb, leaning towards me.
My heart was beating 100 miles per hour, but I closed my eyes and kissed
his lips. They tasted faintly of the watermelon Jolly Ranchers that he always
kept in his pocket, and I remember in that moment, I fell in love.

I am no longer able to eat Jolly Ranchers anymore; I cannot bear treating myself to one without him being here with me. Nor can I lose myself within the wilderness; I always wind up back at the swimming hole, feeling the insanity creeping in, the hot tears dripping onto my cheek, sinking down into the wet sand of the river bank and wishing to throw myself in. When I see a minnow, I feel sick. We used to dip our toes into the river and allow the minnows to nibble at our toes, and I'm telling you, it tickled a whole lot. We collapsed into a fit of giggles not even two minutes after we first dipped our toes in.

The swimming hole is full of happy memories that I now find sad. God, I miss him.

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