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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Love / Romance / Dating
- Published: 01/13/2016
I died that day
After being in a failed marriage in my early twenties, then an abusive relationship for five years, I figured that love was useless and there was no point to keep trying. My problem was that I was lonely and unsatisfied with being on my own. I lived by myself in a small bachelor apartment with my cat; we would spend Friday and Saturday nights watching sappy love movies, then I would cry until I fell asleep.
It seemed that life was not going to change for me, even though I knew the steps it was going to take. I understood that in order to be happy I had to learn to be alone and to be happy with myself, a task I wasn't entirely willing to take on.
Then one day my life changed and I knew that nothing would be the same. I received a text message from a friend; she explained that she was renting out one of her rooms for a gentleman who just left the rigs. She sent his information, his picture and asked if I wanted to set up a date with him. My first reply was ‘yummy’ he was sexy and tall and god I wanted to know him.
Our first date was amazing. We clicked. We talked the entire evening until I fell asleep in his lap while watching a Tom Cruise movie. The next day he surprised me by stopping by at my work and took me out to lunch; from that day on everything fell into place. He was helping me through some of my emotional trauma and I was finally starting to accept myself for who I was.
Even my family couldn't get enough of him. Out of all the men I brought home, he broke through the ice and into their hearts and lives. We moved in shortly after we met, decorated the apartment, spent every waking minute together. My life was finally coming together. I could see the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I was happy.
Every day before work, we would kiss each other, say ‘I love you and be careful,’ and head off in different directions.
Sunday at 8:15 am I was driving to work after saying good bye. I slowed down upon an intersection, saw it was green, accelerated and started to proceed through.
Darkness.
My head was pounding and felt wet. I struggled to open my eyes and see through the tunnel-like view. People were leaning over me asking if I could move. Sirens were roaring in the background and someone shouting, trying to move the crowd. Something sharp was jabbing my stomach and side; I tried to move but the pain.
“Anya!” A voice broke through the fog calling me to him. I see him; he is sitting next to me, grasping my hand. The look on his face, love, ache, says it all. I reach up and stroke his face.
“I love you.” I manage to whisper.
“Anya, I love you.” He stops and pulls a ring out of his pocket. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
I died that day, happy and in the arms of the man that loves me.
I died that day(Elise Mans)
I died that day
After being in a failed marriage in my early twenties, then an abusive relationship for five years, I figured that love was useless and there was no point to keep trying. My problem was that I was lonely and unsatisfied with being on my own. I lived by myself in a small bachelor apartment with my cat; we would spend Friday and Saturday nights watching sappy love movies, then I would cry until I fell asleep.
It seemed that life was not going to change for me, even though I knew the steps it was going to take. I understood that in order to be happy I had to learn to be alone and to be happy with myself, a task I wasn't entirely willing to take on.
Then one day my life changed and I knew that nothing would be the same. I received a text message from a friend; she explained that she was renting out one of her rooms for a gentleman who just left the rigs. She sent his information, his picture and asked if I wanted to set up a date with him. My first reply was ‘yummy’ he was sexy and tall and god I wanted to know him.
Our first date was amazing. We clicked. We talked the entire evening until I fell asleep in his lap while watching a Tom Cruise movie. The next day he surprised me by stopping by at my work and took me out to lunch; from that day on everything fell into place. He was helping me through some of my emotional trauma and I was finally starting to accept myself for who I was.
Even my family couldn't get enough of him. Out of all the men I brought home, he broke through the ice and into their hearts and lives. We moved in shortly after we met, decorated the apartment, spent every waking minute together. My life was finally coming together. I could see the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I was happy.
Every day before work, we would kiss each other, say ‘I love you and be careful,’ and head off in different directions.
Sunday at 8:15 am I was driving to work after saying good bye. I slowed down upon an intersection, saw it was green, accelerated and started to proceed through.
Darkness.
My head was pounding and felt wet. I struggled to open my eyes and see through the tunnel-like view. People were leaning over me asking if I could move. Sirens were roaring in the background and someone shouting, trying to move the crowd. Something sharp was jabbing my stomach and side; I tried to move but the pain.
“Anya!” A voice broke through the fog calling me to him. I see him; he is sitting next to me, grasping my hand. The look on his face, love, ache, says it all. I reach up and stroke his face.
“I love you.” I manage to whisper.
“Anya, I love you.” He stops and pulls a ring out of his pocket. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
I died that day, happy and in the arms of the man that loves me.
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