Invisible Love

Creative Writing #8

Annika Hilbrich

11/9/10

Invisible Love

I saw him from across the street. He looked straight at me, and me at him. Were his eyes piercing through me or was I going crazy? My eyes started to sting, tears began to gather and drip down my face, one at a time, like they were each timed specifically to hit the ground each second. My body felt frozen, yet burning hot. It seemed as though even one step forward was impossible. Was it really him? Should I believe this? I thought he wasn’t coming back, I thought he couldn’t. He didn’t move. I could see his blue/green eyes even from this far distance. I could make out the colors in them I use to know so well; I use to gaze into everyday. He still didn’t move. Like he was a statue or something. Was he? Am I imagining this?

Unsure of what to do, I forced my left leg forward into a rather large step, probably looking very odd to other people passing by on this busy New York City street, but I didn’t care, I could only see him. I stepped forward again, this time with my right leg, and the steps began to get easier. I slowly strolled in his direction, never taking my eyes off of him, for he might disappear again. I may never see him again. When I had almost reached him, I stopped as the memories came flooding back into my head, almost knocking me flat on my face. The screams, the train, the car, the crash. Why couldn’t I get the car off the tracks? It was my fault he died. It was all me. HOW was he here right now? The tears were coming harder now; I stopped trying to control them. This hurt so much, to have him so close to me but to know he was gone. He wore the same coat he had on that night, the same scarf, and the same smile. My God, I love this man. And then, as I stood a meter away from him, he vanished, just as I knew he would. That is how much I miss him.