(Untitled)

[aviophobic]

1. Put your iTunes music library on shuffle and take the first 25 songs it gives you
2. Link to the lyrics
3. Let your friends assign you a song to write a drabble to (tell me if you want it specific to your/a specific pup or not)
4. Post this to your own journal

Comments

in which I finally figure out how to write another one of these

[aviophobic]

She likes to hide the fact that a part of her, some small corner of her heart, is still madly in love with the man she married. He's willing to play along, because he knows exactly what that's like.

Oh, she's moved on to bigger and better things, different romantic scenarios with people far superior. But she wouldn't keep her wedding ring around, tucked away in an old jewelry box that was her grandmother's she hardly ever uses, if she had completely moved on.

They drink and talk one night, and talk and drink. He brushes her hair back with a careful hand after it's spilled in front of her face, her attempt to hide. She's not crying, but she looks like that isn't out of the realm of possibilities.

She misses the simple things, she says to him, leaning into his chest, tense up from keeping her emotions in check--hard to do when halfway to drunk. The easy, little things. The casual 'I love you' and knowing it was meant every time. The gentle touches and quick kisses that happened spontaneously over the dinner table or during the news or while shopping. The comfort of the idea of living with one person for the rest of her life.

He knows, he says gently. She knows he knows, but he's also slowly but surely been refamiliarizing himself with those little things that happen in love. He's living proof that old souls with broken hearts like them are perfectly capable of regaining that kind of life again, which makes her cling to him a little tighter, as if some of that will rub off on her.

She'll be over it by morning, or five minutes from now, brushing it off, putting it back on the shelf along with the jewelry box.