End of short story
She told me she loved me one night when we were walking through the forest. The leaves on all the trees had turned into a bright Autumn’s red. They loomed above us, swaying a whispering advice. I felt rage build up inside of me. Why would “love” do this to a man? And why couldn’t I say it back? Cause I knew I loved her, I already told you that I did. But I am only a man, a selfish man at that. I took her soft white hand in mine. She smiled up at me, waiting for me to say something back. My lips and throat began to work together to try and process the words; yet if we had stayed in that thicket for a hundred years, I still don’t think I would have ever told her I loved her.
When the awkwardness crept upon us, we started walkin’. Somehow we ended up at Louisa’s place. I guess she was navigating, and maybe that was the problem with the whole relationship—I’d lost control. We walked up those lonely steps for the last time. She slowly released my hand and walked to the door. Without turning around she said, “I know there is good in you, Jett.”
That’s the last thing I ever did hear her say because I left down that day. I went to find my own path, my own journey without God or some women. I managed without God for a while, but not the women. There was this one lady who I held company with more often than other. She was the complete opposite of my Louisa. Black hair and eyes to match. She didn’t worry about love and stuff…and I thought that was pretty good for a woman. But one night when she was at my place, an emotion came over me and I started to cry. She kissed the tears off my face and held them on her tongue. Thinking they were for her, when really they were Louisa’s. Her prayers were not in vain. That night I sent that awful girl home and never saw her again, either. I came back to God and he took me, I think. But I never found myself going back to Louisa. My soiled body wasn’t fittin’ for her anymore. She didn’t deserve my stench—even though I sort of knew that she wanted my back anyhow.
I don’t know what I ever meant to Louisa, but I know what she meant to me. I learned that just because I’m a man doesn’t mean that I have to control. Louisa taught me how to love a woman, and not in the way that you’re thinkin’. She taught me to cherish, to enjoy just talkin’, to grow with someone. She loved me no matter what, and I still love her. You prayers are not in vain, Louisa. They aren’t.
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