Nineteen

„I love you... „ - these were the words last heard through the phone. The signal after it innevitably meant that it was all over. All the love confessions she thought were just a bunch of jokes, all the mysterious notes she was leaving to her, the phone calls, where that sweet gentle voice was heard - she'll never hear her again, ever. And that is when she realised: „I love her too“. Eyes couldn't hold the tears anymore and salty drops were rolling down her face, the lips were not being able to point up anymore, legs just didn't hold her. She slided down the wall. Tears, tears, tears... the face was becomming wet, but she didn't care, all she had now was this tremendous ache, caused by loosing that girl.

The images of their walks in the star lights were blinking in her mind... She remembered the first time they met. That clumsy girl, with beatutiful red her, which at that moment were being slowly caressed by autumn wind, bumped into her accidentaly and dropped all the books she was carrying. While helping the girl pick up the books, amongst which huge amount were philosophy books, she looked into her eyes and couldn't draw the look. Holding the last book in her hands, she stared at those beautiful deep eyes and simply forgot, that she was actually helping her picking up the books she dropped. The girl smiled. Was there anything more gorgeous than that in her entire life?...

She remembered how they went to Placebo concert. It was the girl, who's recommended her listenting to this band. That was the first time she felt euphory from the music, the first time he sang so much with the band that they both couldn't speak up with each other after it. But they were both filled with happynes. That day the girl took her hand - she didn't try to take it away.

She remembered that day, she first heard the girl confessing the love to her. After long discussion they had a huge fight and haven't talked since then... Today her letter came, everything written in it was: „I love you. Can't live without you and I won't“. Like mad she ran to the telephone and started remembering girl's number. Someone picked up, it was that sweet gentle voice, it was her. The voice was trembling and barely could speak continuously. „I wanted too much, I'm sorry. I love you... „ - said the girl. The gunshot had done what it was needed for.

Holding that sheet of paper, with that sentence written by her cute handwriting, she cried, paper was becomming wet. You couldn't hear nothing, but the cry, you couldn't read anything from the letter, it was filled with tears. „I... love... you too... „ - choking, while crying she spelled, - „Come back!!! „ She was only 19...