You Can’t Fight The Tears That Ain’t Coming: A Short Story

“The end of that summer was marked by an endless period of crystal, warm rain, something not out of the ordinary for the warm latitudes. The cherry trees were green and lush as I stood in the rain, by the largest tree in the orchard. I had my rain poncho, the one she had given me. Life had been agonizing since it happened…not a day went by that I did not think of her smiling face, her long hair in the summer breeze, her sweet voice. It played out like a series of still frames in my mind, when I first met her down by the river that spring, under a cherry tree, no less, how I took her on our first date to that cafe down the street, I even remembered what she ordered…kept both of our receipts…Then came the long nights where we explored the boundaries of human existence, sexuality, love, happiness, sadness, and the entire range of human emotions. When everything felt like the movies, we always played the most important parts. Why did you do this to yourself? For the life of me, I could not think of one reason why this had to happen to you, you were so young, so strong, so proud. I never thought you would die for your sins, so naive, for you were merely a woman, and I a young man in love. You lived the way we should all live, as flowers in a lovely garden, for you are still mine, and I am still yours. Now I stand out here, fighting the tears that ain’t coming, because I have no more left to cry.”

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