Just Out Of Reach

Submitted into Contest #9 in response to: Write a story about unrequited love.... view prompt

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Romance

He watched her from afar, he was silent always silent. She was beautiful and full of light, her touch was warm always warm. But he was never able to touch her, she was always just out of his reach and no matter how badly he wanted to be able to hold her in his arms, she was always gone before he could even try. It was rare but there were times when he got a small look into what it would be like to be able to touch her, though it was nothing more than a hint of a feeling. Those were the times when he could finally happily bask in her light and warmth. Unfortunately, that came at a heavy price, you see if he was to have her to himself, in full then no one else could. He knew how much she enjoyed brightening other's worlds, and despite his love for her he wouldn't, couldn't rip that away from her.

So most of the time he was captivated, looking at her from afar, watching as she danced, watching as she brought joy to everyone she came in contact with. Her smile could light up the sky in the brightest of colors and her radiant eyes could make things shine if she looked long enough, her touch could warm the coldest hearts. Despite all of this she was strong, fierce even. Her hair alone could destroy any threat it faced. She was to be looked at, enjoyed, and loved from afar but never touched. Her arms held those that needed her strength but her strength could also burn you if you lingered for too long.

Through time he realized that no one could truly look at her, see her the way he could. She was so bright and filled with so much love that looking at her directly would burn your eyes and hurt your head. But he could look, never touch, but look. He wouldn’t miss an opportunity to look at her and her exquisite features, her beauty, her light. Because to him, she was the most beautiful, awe-inspiring thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

Now, you need to understand that he had seen many beautiful things in his lifetime, stars and alike. But nothing came close to her. Nothing could begin to touch her level of pure beauty. The way she danced, without a care in the galaxy. The way she smiled, like a child on Christmas morning. The way she laughed as if you had just told the funniest joke in all of creation.

He wished desperately that he could dance with her, that he could be the one to make her smile and laugh the way she did. But he couldn't, it was as if the gods themselves had forbidden him from being with her. Every time he got close to her it was only to be ripped away cursing the gods as he was once again taken from her light.

She was always just out of reach, always a million miles away, no matter what he did. No matter how hard he tried. An eternity and more of pain seemed to await him as day in and day out he watched her.

Who was he to her anyway? He had never warmed anyone's life. All he had ever done was provide a dull light in the dark sky. He was surrounded by stars and the like that people paid much more attention to. His soul was full of holes and his skin full of scars. And he was seldom whole, a piece of him always seemed to be missing and on occasion, he would lose himself completely to the seemingly endless void of darkness, loneliness, and nothingness. He was cold to touch and he was hard to be around. But it was easy to look at him and despite how unnoticeable he could be he shined in the right light. On the occasions that he was whole he never truly felt complete, despite the fact that he was at his best during these times she never noticed the influence she had on him, she never realized that she was the reason he felt whole.

Despite his feelings, he was actually in a relationship with a plain-looking girl. The young woman he was betrothed to never danced and she didn't shine at all, not even in the best light. He tried to be there for her, she needed him much more than his true love did. But she never provided anything for him in return, no light, no warmth, nothing more than the ghost of a smile. But still, when he wasn't busy looking at his real love he would look at her. She was not only plain but sick, the people around her were not always kind and over the years she had become scarred and broken. Her eyes were dull, her smile was faded, her hair laid still and her heartbeat was quiet and slow, it sounded like the beat of a bass drum, alone and sad. It was weak, but despite everything it was still there, he couldn't help but be proud of her for it.

His true loves heartbeat was different, her heartbeat was strong, powerful, loud, it sounded like that of a symphony and anyone who listened to it fell in love immediately. Her heartbeat would last much longer than the one of his betrothed, of that he was sure.   

Slowly the girl he was betrothed to crumbled under the intense weight she carried. The ones that had claimed to love her had slowly killed her. Tearing her apart piece by piece as he was forced to watch, just out of reach. He always seemed to be just out of reach of everything important to him. After that he was left alone in the universe, the only one he had left was the girl who would never truly see him nor pay any attention to him. But still, he found that watching her from the empty abyss of his mind was better than letting himself sink into it. She too had lost a lot the day he had lost his betrothed. Still, she shone bright, her smile never wavering, her eyes still shimmering, her dance not yet ending. For a long time, he watched her, no longer distracted with his betrothed he could spend all the time he had looking at her, his true love.  

That’s how he stayed, for years, so many years. He was so lost in her beauty that he didn’t notice how old they had become. He hadn’t noticed how she was slowly dying, not that he could have saved her, he couldn't reach her at his best, he was far too broken and cold now to do anything but watch as she fell apart piece by piece. Then in her last moments her warmth, her light, her love, seemed to spread across the entire universe in a magnificent explosion of beauty and color, even in death she was the definition of beautiful. She left behind her love, her legacy. She took him with her. You see he too died that day. He went peacefully though, no explosion of color like she had, but still, his death was just as beautiful, in its own way.

It was a love that was never meant to be, for you see the moon could never reach the sun and the sun could never love the moon.


October 04, 2019 18:08

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1 comment

Michael Williams
14:00 Oct 30, 2019

Hi Mattilyn, Your story is very effective in that it conveys the torment that haunted this man to his death. When she died, he died, as well. His self esteem is barely there, and this in many ways is transmitted (is an enabler) to make his plain looking girl the woman she is. The way you ended the story is great with your contrast with the sun and the moon, reflective of the stark reality of the story. Mike Willams

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