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It had almost been three years since that day. Three years of letters, e-mails, phone calls, webcam conversations, instant messaging and even the occasional text. Three years of imaging and dreaming. Three years of molding feelings, watering them, and letting them blossom. Three months of planning... Three hours of waiting extra early at the airport with cardboard sign in hand. Three nervous bites of a hamburger and three fries on a nervous stomach. Countless times of looking to the airport schedule on the monitor up above. Checking and double checking the time on her phone to make sure that yes, it had only been a few minutes since th

We were both freshman. Well, that wasn't completely accurate. She was a freshman in college, and I was a freshman in… high school. I met her when I was in the sixth grade. We both came from a small town where the middle and the high school were right next to each other, so the buses were shared between the schools. A country small town. Horses and cows and stables and tractors and Wal*Mart was the place to go. I was the first one picked up, and the last one dropped off on the bus. Seeing her each morning and afternoon, it was my little heaven. It didn't even occur to me that I was a creepy little kid, happy to see her, a stranger, e

Creative Writing: Fiction Chapter 3, Prompt 21 September 15, 2011 He confessed to me. And then he punched me. A month ago, I had been confessed to on the roof top, like any of those love comics. I could honestly say that I hardly knew anything of him, despite that he was the root of a lot of the gossip around school. His piercings and his dyed hair, his obnoxious height and the way he always scowled, of course rumors would begin that he was in some kind of gang or really was held back four years behind. I had talked to him only a couple of times, during class when we were paired up with one another or were on the same team during gym, bu

Creative Writing: Fiction Chapter 9, Prompt 14 September 13, 2011 We had met again at a class reunion. It had been small, just as our school had been small, with a graduating class of just seventy-nine. It was held at an equally small restaurant, with just a few of us having accepted the invitation. Many had moved away, to bigger cities or out of the small town. I couldn't blame them. If I hadn't been in town visiting my parents, I may have never thought about them again. But I was there, with him. It was late, the restaurant with just a few remaining customers. Couples who stole lusty glances at one another as they polished off glasses

Creative Writing: Fiction Chapter 10, Prompt 7 September 8, 2011 The band was just awful, but the people all around were dancing to it as if it were the most amazing thing out there, their drinks sloshing all over expensive dance clothes without a care. Typical life of a college student who had nothing better to do on a Friday night. I sipped from my own cheap plastic red cup that had some kind of weird concoction of fruit and alcohol. It was sweet, yet burned on my tongue after I swallowed. I had forgotten why I even showed up to the underground club that stank of alcohol, cigarette smoke and the stinking stench of sweat mixed with phero

Creative Writing: Fiction September 6, 2011 Chapter 4, Prompt 9 I was in a room. It wasn't my room, or at least I couldn't tell if it was my room or not because of the killer headache that threatened to knock away my head. What in the world had I done last night? I looked to my side, lazily and heavily scratching at my... dammit, when had I stripped off my shirt? And why did it feel like I was in a pool of caramel? My mouth was dry as I attempted to wet my lips.  I allowed my eyes to adjust to the sun peeking into the room, and after a few blinks, I saw the shape of someone else's back. Someone else's... broad... back. Broad back... The

As I've mentioned before, I'm not the sort to just not do what I want to do. So if there was something I wanted to do, I did it. And right now, I wanted to devour him. I cut off his sentence mid-way without a care, smashing our lips together, grateful that I had taken out the lip piercing before taking my smoke. The both of us had found out too often how painful the piercing could be for just not kissing. I heard the sound of his things falling, those small hands wrapping into my shirt to pull me closer as I greedily kissed those lips without more care as to what my breath was like. He had been the one to tempt me like this, he was going to

Creative Writing: Fiction September 1, 2011 Chapter 2, Prompt #1 He came in twice a month, every other week, on a Thursday after he was finished with work. The first week was for his wife. A new pair of shoes from the latest designer. A new tube of lipstick of a fresh new color. A new dress straight from Paris. If he had really pissed her off- expensive lingerie that would only last one night of passion. The second week was for himself. A tie, or a tailored suit, never anything that was too much. Always taking advice of the professionals, always taking his time as he let them measure him in the four way mirror. Always looking like the mo

Creative Writing: Fiction August 30, 2011 Chapter 1, Prompt #6 The sweetness of his hair, the silky blonde tendrils that refused to be tucked behind his piercing free ears. The pale skin that looked like it had never seen the light of day, mostly hidden behind an over-sized sweatshirt and dark washed jeans. The light silvery-blue eyes that glanced up at me nervously, peachy lips sipping at his straw. The complete opposite of me. The complete same as me. Except my hair had turned dark when I hit puberty. My eyes had gone bad before then, forcing me to wear glasses or contacts. Both my ears and my bottom lip were pierced, my skin tainted