Something On The Mind

He never really quite understood why. She had seemed so happy the day before. The memory of her shy smile filled his swollen eyes with tears once again as he thought back, back to that cold and dreary november day, and the following day, only a year ago.

They had met, as planned, on the corner of the street, so they could stroll downtown, down to their usual cosy pub where they often sat in the afternoons with a cappucino each and rather too many cigarettes. But as Catherine had always said, one had to enjoy ones youth before one had to start thinking of being a part of ‘The Real World’. He remembered taking of his coat and draping it over Catherines bare, feminine shoulders, as the weather was rather chilly, and as they had sat down, his coat had gently slid off her shoulders, showing her beautiful slim sillouette against the dim smokey candle light that constantly would fill the pub. It had almost seemed to tease him, showing of her figure, caressing her slender body, letting her chocolate brown curls fall lightly around her pale face. He had smiled at her, taking her small, soft hand in his, and kissing her lips gently as he waved the bartender over.

That was where it was. That uncertain, childlike smile she had sent him in return as he ordered two cappucinos. That was the smile that had once warmed and lightened his soul, but that now constantly tore at his consumed heart, each time he thought back.

They had sat there talking for a couple of hours, her shyness had crept almost unoticed away and her brown curls bouncing excitedly around her shoulders whilst she talked about her plans with such enthusiasm that it was hard not to become enthusiastic himself. He had stood up, helping her up too, draping his coat over her shoulders once again, and they had walked out on to the street. Hand in hand they walked back to his house, falling into rythm as she took three small steps for each of his long strides. Her laughter cut through the foggy air as he teased her. He had loved hearing her laugh, her eyes dancing, and her cheeks gaining a warm, attractive colour, and as she teased back he would watch her lips speeding over the words, trying to hide a smile behind. Suddenly those lips would meet his, sending shivers through his body as he let go of everything, letting himself be filled with the feeling of passion that rushed from her lips to his. His hand slid down, to hold around her slim waist, then slowly lifting her up, and swinging her around ‘til she squealed. Laughing, they danced the rest of the way up the path to his house, he opened the door letting her in, hardly believing that it had only been three months ago when he had opened the door door for her, for the first time as his girlfriend.As they had entered the room, he held his hands over her eyes, leading her through the door, only letting go as they had sat down on the corner of his bed.

Remembering her gasp and the way her eyes had lit up, the tears began to flow again. It was the day they had been together for three months.

He had lit candles in the whole room, put her favourite cd on, and hung her gift on a hanger in front of the closet: the dress she had wished for for months, in a deep purple, with laces holding it together on the back. She had jumped up, and turned around to hug him before she sped over to the closet og picked up the dress. She had looked asking at him, and before he even had the chance to nod back, she had started taking of her clothes, forgetting her shyness, and slipped into the dress. It fitted her perfectly, gliding over her hips, and at the top, it almost looked as though there were hands, holding her cutely small breasts in place. Then she had spotted the black high heeled shoes that had stood beside the dress. She slipped her feet into the them, and stood before him, her slender figure showing through the dress that flowed around her feet as she turned on the spot. Thinking back on the sight, his heart started beating faster, as it had when her saw her in it the first time. She had looked so happy, and when she had kissed him, and asked him to dance with her in the middle of the bedroom, he had felt the vibes that flew through her, that excited him in a way that was new to him.

She had wriggled her way out of the dress and, not bothering to put her other clothes on, she slipped under the covers, He could still feel the warmth of her body, the closeness there had been between them that evening, bare skin to bare skin. The way everything surrounding him had just disappeared, and it had just been the two of them and their love that had been present. But that was to be the last time.

He found himself shivering. Somehow, deep in thoughts, he had glid down from his bed and now sat on the floor, head in hands, crying. They had found her the following morning, wearing the dress and shoes he had given her. Overdose they had said. She was lying on the floor in her bedroom. Everything around her had been turmoil. Drawers and shelves emptied, clothes lying everywhere, papers and books filled her bed and desk, makeup lay shattered all over and pillglasses and empty bottles of strong liquor littered the carpet. She had seemed almost out of place, lying in the middle of it all. Her curls fell neatly around her smooth face, the dress, fitting perfectly, seemed almost to float around her body, her pale hands lying on her chest, and her pretty face, seemed almost peaceful. He had just stood, staring. Tears pulling wet lines down his cheeks, and his spine seemed no longer able to hold his body up. He had fallen down to floor, laying his head on her still chest, feeling the coldness her limp body gave in return.

But he still didn't understand why ..