Lime Green Net (A love story) Prose

Lime Green Net (A love story)

Here I am sick with the flu. Laying in bed watching the high ceiling fan go round and round and round. Then I stare at the walls colored eggshell. Then back to the ceiling fan and then to my dads fishing equipment, I have learned that men keep their fishing equipment forever. When I was young I remember stealing the same lime green net and Zebco fishing pole and sneaking out with my crush at the time Bobby Dale.

“Oh Bobby, Bobby, Bobby where are you now?” I thought. Can you remember just as I, the good times we had.

The time were I would meet you at the river you already there by 11:45pm with a blanket and a box of your dads Golden Rock cigarettes. As I sat by down you with fishing pole by my side, crickets chirping and moon glowing. The silence was impeccable. The river calmly lapping over the smooth moss covered rocks. And the clear night sky was terrific.
The 89’ Mercedes was the interior of luxury anf warmth when the waters have gotten to cold to swim. And while wet denims and Hanes shirts dried out, we were laying on the top of the car watching the stars twinkle as we clasped each others hands both wishing for this moment would last enough for memory to be filled with the love we felt then.

I remember It would be the last time I ever got to see your brown eyes again. The last time my heart would beat for such a incredible person. And if I ever knew you only had six days left on this earth, I would of worshiped you to the end.

We knew having sex was just a understatement. Making sweet love came to a second close.
The cold wind chilled our body’s but we didn’t care much. The only thing that mattered was we were fulfilling our secret fantasies we had of each other. To know what soft breast or muscular thighs felt like.

That night I loved your thoughts while you were buying beer at Louie’s gas station, and keeping them chilled in the river down the hill. As you waited patiently with a smile of whimsical quirkiness. Knowing all the possibilities of this night you created with your mind and with each thought you made a star that exist in in the sky this very moment.

I wonder if your laying next to me. In my death bed. Because I know that when I die. I’ll be woken transformed and moving on with my life I once did not want to live without the thought of our sacred nights.
I think I feel you clasp my hand, my left one of course. I know you had this silly OCD thing about left hands. You felt bad for it I know but you don’t know that only made you sweeter. But it only brings a warm smile to face

We knew that every time we said I love you, it was only a slow torture for our souls, knowing your family would move away to Wisconsin soon.

We knew that it was nearly impossible to remain connected.

But we did not know the future.

Six days is all I can think about. Three days you would tell your family your gay.
In two days it would spread
One day the cops would show up at my house telling me of your murder.
I was torn to pieces. But I found adults don’t think teenagers hurt as much because our tears are not as old as there’s.

But now.

Back in bed with my flu. The symptoms of the flu is taking your temperature when you know its only going to be 98.7 degree’s. Sulking. Longing for memories only we could understand. Only things we could accept. Though I cry when I see your thoughts of us in the sky now. With each tear I’m making up for every star and I get closer to transformation.

Bobby I’m talking to you now

Are you listening?

Total fictional story. Hope you enjoyed this piece of Prose, readers
I write love story’s because in every story there’s a element needing to be told. Or else its no real story
Love
Starkid/Amanda