The Ending, The Beginning
So, this is going to sound a little weird. I asked my boyfriend for a story idea, and this is what he asked me to write. As a disclaimer, everything's fine between us, and he was nervous about asking me to write this what with my depression and all, but I told him it was cool (It is. I promise.), so here it is. Hope you guys like it.
"Just like it used to be. The way life was when you were in love..." His voice trailed as his fingers paused over the keys, prolonging the fermata beyond the usual. "...with me." _ His fingers played the last notes of the song from muscle memory and habit more than anything else. His mind was far from the song he had just finished playing and singing. Random lyrics from the song came to mind, lines that closely paralleled his own thoughts. _Hardly could believe it, that their love had come to this... You know, this isn't easy for me... "The way life was," he whispered again.
Abruptly, he stood up from the piano with enough force to send the bench toppling over behind him. He couldn't bring himself to care as he walked, quickly and shakily, to the bathroom. He quickly grabbed a tissue from a box off the counter and loudly blew his nose. He was grabbing another to dry his tears when his eye caught his reflection in the mirror. His frown deepened as he gazed on his visage.
His normally perky ears were folded back against his head. His blue eyes shone through the tears coating them. The fur on his head was matted, not having bothered to comb it since... then. Likewise, the fur around his white muzzle was matted down too from the tears that had slowly been pushing him closer and closer to dehydration. He wasn't wearing a shirt, not having bothered to get dressed when he woke up that afternoon. His normally white belly fur was now a muddy grey, not having bothered to shower in the last few days either. He wasn't wearing pants either, but that couldn't be seen in the mirror. His tail was drooped, the tip slightly between his legs. With shoulders slumped, the wolf's entire posture spoke of defeat and sorrow.
The canine angrily tore his gaze from the broken wolf in the mirror, showing it the black fur of his back. The tissue jerkily wiped away the fresh tear-stains. It was cast aside in the general direction of the garbage as the wolf turned to leave the washroom. Unseen to the wolf, the air vent lifted the tissue up and out through the open window.
***
_What if it's you?
What if our hearts were meant to be one?
What'll I do,
Knowing that I'll never love anyone
As much as I do love you?
What if it's true?
What if it's you?_
There's a song for everything, the wolf thought resignedly. It was an oft-repeated maxim from him, but instead of the usual happy tone, it was thought with an air of gloom. Even now, in the throes of depression, his mind kept bringing up songs appropriate to his mood. Normally, he wouldn't mind this, but when one feels sad, sad songs only reinforce the feeling. In keeping with this, his black mood hardly lifted over the last few days. Only a few people knew the reason for this bout of depression, but even those that did could do little to help. It would get better, he knew, but thinking of the future didn't help much in the present.
The wolf toyed with his food, pushing it around the plate without actually forking any to consume. He was eating alone, a usual occurence for him, but one that only made him think more on his loneliness. As he finally started putting some food in his mouth, his mind started floating over the vague consolations that his friends had given him. It'll be okay, you've never seen him anyway, it's for the best. None of them really did anything for him. Maybe all of it was true, but if so, this was just a case of the truth hurts. The truth may set you free, he thought, but this isn't the freedom I was hoping for.
It had been a week. He had showered that morning, much to the relief of family and friends, and was finally looking semi-presentable. He was also no longer likely to burst out in tears for no apparent reason, although the dark cast never left his face. To see a smile from him was considered something of an achievement amongst those who knew him and kept in contact. Some had given up on him, but a few remained, trying to cheer him up. He was subconsciously grateful for them, but it was hard for him to respond to their efforts. He knew that his life wasn't over; it just felt like it. The flaw and strength of people, though, is that feelings can overpower logic and rationality. In this case, though, it would have been better had the wolf been a vulcan.
He cocked his head to one side, then the other, cracking his neck as he often did. It had become as much as a habit as biting his claws. At this thought, he glanced down to see his ring finger at his teeth. He lowered it with a sigh. The wolf barely noticed when he did it as he had been doing it for so many years. He practically inhaled the rest of his food and not so gently placed the plate in the sink, causing a clatter that seemed to resound through the empty house.
The wolf tossed himself onto a couch in the living room. Maybe I should play a game or pop in a movie, he thought. As usual, though, he found himself without the motivation to do either. When he next looked at the clock, an hour and a half had elapsed. He hadn't moved or fallen asleep in that time; instead, the wolf had been staring at the same point on the wall, mind drifting hither and thither without conscious effort. His dad would be home soon, he knew, so he relocated to his bedroom. He didn't want his dad to find him staring moodily into space again as he had all to often over the past week. His dad was out of the know, and the longer he continued in his funk, the more pressure he would have to say what was going on, something he most decidedly did not want to do. He ended up staring at his ceiling again, and despite the early hour, fell asleep.
***
The way life was when you were in love with me.
The wolf cocked his head in the store, his ears perking as they caught the tail-end of the song. The song had brought back a memory. He could remember playing that song on the piano and singing along almost five years ago. A sudden thought struck him, and he glanced at his watch. Five years to the day, he realized. Feels longer. Or does it feel like yesterday?
A little while later, once his groceries were safely in his moderately used car, he plugged his mp3 player into the audio jack and twirled the dial, looking for a song that he had put on a few years back. Once he found it, he put it on and started driving to his apartment. He sang along with the windows down, well-used to ignoring the looks from other drivers at red lights.
_"And there was a God in heaven
And the world made perfect sense
We were young and were in love
And we were easy to convice
We were headed straight to Eden
It was just around the bend_
_And though I had forgotten all about it
The song remembers when_
_I guess something must have happened
And we must have said goodbye
And my heart must have broken
Though I can't recall just why
The song remembers when_
_Now for all the miles between us
And for all the time has passed
You would think I haven't forgotten very far
And I hope my hasty heart
Will forgive me just this once
If I stop to wonder how on Earth you are_
_But that's just a lot of water
Underneath a bridge I burned
And there's no use in backtracking
Around corners I have turned
Still I guess some things we bury
Are just bound to rise again
For even if the whole world has forgotten
The song remembers when_
_Yeah, and even if the whole world has forgotten
The song remembers when._ "
He pulled into his parking spot not too long after the song ended. He lived not too far from the grocery store. He thought back to those times with a small smile and a small tear. The good times had been good, the leaving had been hard, and it was all in the past now. He still had depression and still went through stints of sadness, but it hadn't been so bad as the week or two after he had sat down to play that song at the piano. He walked up the steps to his apartment on the second floor with groceries keeping both his hands full. He declined to put them down and instead awkwardly fumbled for his key, eventually slotting it in the lock and letting himself into the place. He set the groceries on the tables and shook his head to clear it of idle thoughts.
"Honey," he called, "I'm home!"
Here it is. Written in one stint with a short break for a walk. I can't say I'm one hundred percent happy with it, but I don't want to pull it out again yet, so it'll stay like this. I don't need to tell you that it was fueled by songs that I listened to while writing it. Music credits are "Honesty (Write Me a List)" by Rodney Atkins, "What If It's You?" by Reba McEntire, and "The Song Remembers When" by Trisha Yearwood. I originally wanted another in there, but decided there wasn't time. And yes, the request from my boyfriend was a story where the two of us broke up. I decided to focus on the aftermath and followed through with his request of not mention who broke up with whom. Title sucks.. probably change that too. Anyway, hope you guys liked it.
Oh, one more thing. I'd hoped it was apparent, but in case anyone missed it, in the end I'm calling to someone new. For story purposes, I didn't get back together with him. Marked m/f because I'm going to pretend this other person is female, not that it matters in terms of the story.