**This is a Story of the Song, inspired by Skid Row's "I Remember You"**
She scrapes a fingernail against her front tooth, little scratches at the enamel, and leans against the window. Leaves dance as the autumn wind whistles her name. "Remember when we spent the summer with the top rolled down? You swore I'd never be lonely. That was such a special time and I knew then we'd walk hand in hand forever."
He doesn't answer, quiet behind her in the chair. She doesn't expect him to. This is her time, her chance. She didn't like what he said with his chance.
"We wrote love letters in the sand, we stared a lifetime in each other's eyes. My friends would sigh when we were together. They knew that you were my end all, that if I was blind, you'd make me see. They were so happy for me, some were even envious I bet, though they never said it. You were perfect, and you were all mine."
Now she turns around and stares at him. He sits silent, eyes fixed on her, but he makes no move to speak. She feels the wetness on her cheek.
"What happened? Where did it all go off track? I did everything you asked, I tried every way I could to make you happy. Even through our share of hard times, we kept the promise that we made."
She stops herself, wiping at a damp cheek with one palm. "You can't just let it go like that, can you? Are you that cold? I said I'd give my life for you, live for your smile and die for your kiss. What am I supposed to do with that?"
He's no longer looking at her. His gaze is glassy and fixated past her to the slate clouds. She looks for a spark of something in those eyes, something that says 'I remember.' But there is nothing. Whatever he once held for her has fled, crawled out of his heart like a black worm seeking new shelter. Why didn't she see this before? How could she have not? He was her world, he filled all her horizons.
With him gone, what would her skies look like? Through every sleepless night, through every endless day, would she be sentenced to say: 'I once did that?'
All the tears she's cried, all the times she called his name, he would never again come through. Her whole body is wet; shirt clinging, skin moist. There's no more to be said. He clearly has nothing to say, he said it all before.
And she's said her piece. Now there is only the echoing departure and cleaning up the mess that this has all wrought. Three slow steps brings her in front of him. He doesn't even lift his gaze to meet hers. "You said I'd never be lonely. You lied. I want to hear you say it. I WANT TO HEAR YOU SAY IT."
A clock ticks in the foyer, reminding her of other times, other places, when this scene unfurled under the sound of pouring rain. Will it ever be different?
After the silence becomes too heavy, she feels something break inside, just as it broke other times. Perhaps someday, perhaps ever after, it would no longer be like this. She drops the lump into his lap. It lands with a thick sound as she walks past him, rigid with grief but oddly relieved that it is finally over.
"I give you back your heart, dear," she says. By now the blood has pooled around the chair and her feet make sloshing sounds. She wipes a drop of blood off her brow and reaches for the doorknob. "Now nothing else will ever take you away. I will remember you."