Thursday, November 11, 2004

Chapter 8: Dearest Love

So we drop our cups, plate and forks into the empty bin next to the counter that contained a label for dirty dishe and make our way out through the jumble of chairs and tables to the front of the shop. The guy behind the counter wishes us a good night and we close the door and head up the street. Angie again puts her arm in mine and we set off and a brisk pace.

We make it back to where Angie parked pretty quickly and start off on the road. As we are driving out of the parking area, I turn to Angie and say, “Is there a dvd that you would like to pick up from the video store?”

“It sounds like you have a decent taste in videos so if you have a video collection, let's just go with that.”

“I have a few movies. Maybe about 200 dvds.”

“Good lord. How do you have so many?”

“Ummmm. One word. Single.”

“Well, I have one word for me. College.”

“College does drain the funds, but once you are done, it seems to get a bit easier.”

“So are you renting?”

“No, I bought the house.”

“Wow, rich.”

“I might have been, but house payments can really drag down your bank account.”

With that, I start giving her directions to my place. It takes about 15 minutes to get to my place which is actually pretty fast compared to when I drive. Maybe I drive too slow. Or maybe it's because it's late and traffic is fairly light.

When we pull into the driveway, Angie pops the trunk. I grab the leftovers and hand them to her and head back to get the illustrious bowling ball from her trunk. After shutting it, I walk to the door and unlock it and let Angie go in first.

I walk into the living room, set down the bowlng ball and turn on the lights. I guess it is time to start the tour. So I turn to Angie and say, “Well would you like to start with a tour?”

“That's a good idea. But let's stop at the bathroom last.”


So I lead her though the house, through the living room and kitchen slash dining room. I point to the door to the basement and walk her around to the front room and point to the stairs that lead up to the bedrooms and upstairs bath. At last I lead her back to the bathroom which is between the living room and the dining room.

After Angie enters, I walk over to the living room couch and lay down. As I stare at the ceiling, I can see patterns in the paint job that was down. It looks like little mini sunsets all over the top of the room with the half-moon circles that overlap. It also reminds me of the overlapping scales of a reptile.

I am sitting near my campfire outside of the jungle. I look to my right as I hear a rustle. Suddenly out of the brush explodes a gecko as it races toward a tree a little ways a way. Nothing like an exploding gecko to get the heart racing.

I reach into my pack and pull out the letter from my love.

Dearest love,

I know what you are doing is important, but I miss you so. The time that I have spent with you these last couple weeks have brought a new meaning of joy to my life that I never thought possible. My life was like the rose that has not bloomed, bundled up against the cold night, afraid to look out. You were my sunshine, who's warmth let me show my true feelings and colors to their brightest.

I am afraid. The sickness is so painful. I fear that I will not live to see you again. I cannot decide which is worse, having to die but having you near, or hoping and dreaming that you will arrive back with the cure, but dealing with you not by my side.

Never forget that I do love you. I am praying for you right now. I know I am and I am not just praying for my own life's sake but for yours as well, for I have heard of the treacherous trails that you now have to pick through.

Till when I see you next again,

Lady Angie

I will not fail you, Love. I will bring back the cure. I will do whatever it takes to arrive soon. Bless her heart for this letter. It gives me the strengthto continue on, when so much trials have I defeated already and it has began to wear at my soul.

I carefully tuck the letter into my pouch and sling my pack upon my back. Let me not delay any longer. There is a bloom out there that I need to save my flower. I will make it and spare the life of my heart's truest love. I will see to . . .


Oh, yeah. I shake my head to clear away the cobwebs. I wonder what type of movie she is in the mood for. I was never very good at picking out movies that everyone will like. I will ask her, but I should have a back up plan. I can't go wrong with Princess Bride as a back up plan. What could be more perfect than True Love. And that darn hilarious preacher.

I hear the door open and Angie comes out.

“I'm in the living room, Angie.”

“Pete, I really love your house. It's just such a big house.”

“Thanks. I really like it myself. Say, which movie would you to watch?”

“I don't really care what we watch.”

“Well, how about the Princess Bride?”

“I love that movie, that sounds great. But where is your TV?”

“It's down in the basement. Better viewing in a darker room.”

So we head down to the basement and I grab the dvd from the shelf on the way down the stairs.

“Wow, you have a ton of dvd's.”

“It's less of a collection and just a . . . well collection.”

I reach over above the couch and turn on the projector.

“You have your own projector.”

“Yeah. It was more of a financial decision than anything else. Price per square inch of surface.”

“Do all nerds talk like this? Square inch and price?”

“No. But it is less nerd as really cool to have your own projector.”

“So your job is in engineering?”

“Yeah, but you can make money is almost any field.”

We sit down on the couch and I turn on the projector, sound system and the dvd player. Angie sits down a little bit away from me. I hope I don't smell. Or maybe it is because I am squirming getting everything started up.

After everything is setup, I lean with my back against the couch. At that point Angie cuddles up against me. It is so easy just to wrap her up in my arms. There is something so relaxing and comforting to feel another human being breath and to feel their warmth against your chest. Who cares what movie we are watching, this is the definition of bliss.

I don't think any movie starts with such a romantic undertone as the Princess Bride. It is amazing the feeling of love that is portrayed in the simple words that were spoken. As you wish. So simple. So many meanings depending on the tone. But there is love there. Another amazing thing is the slow realization of Buttercup that she loves Wesley.

As we watch the movie, I feel Angie to start to kiss my neck.

Am I falling in love? Not again...

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