by Court
Feedback to: Dcreeker@bigfoot.com
Rating: PG-13
Classification: D/J romance with a few twists ;o)
Author's Note: This is different than anything I've ever done before. Thanks to my great friends on the DCW list and to Mandy, Katy, Nic, Kit, Chris, my girl "J," and Rachel. You guys are the best. Thanks for giving me encouragement, advice and feedback.
This story is based on the book, "The Notebook," by Nicholas Sparks. It is in my opinion one of the most romantic/tragic love stories ever. If you like this, please check it out!! I am modernizing this a bit, and changing some things... but both fans of the book, and those who aren't, should be able to follow.
***
Who am I? And how, I wonder, will this story end?
The morning rays of light creept into our room through the rose colored blinds. I wake up slowly, giving my eyes a chance to adjust to the bright light. It's chillier than normal now, in the winter, but somehow I'm not cold. I look around the room and smile a little despite myself and my condition.
I have lived, and loved, and been loved in return. That is why I smile. I don't have many regrets, except maybe the lost time he and I could have spent together before I got sick...
But dwelling on the past won't change anything so I usually shrug it off, and put it out of my mind. He never held it against me because he's not like that.
I rub my eyes tiredly and yawn, prompting him to stir a little in our bed. I smile and ruffle his hair. He's as handsome as ever, and still has that rugged boyish face I love so much.
I smile and lean down to kiss his cheek, pulling the covers over myself. He gives me a sad look and carresses my cheek. I know it pains him to see me this way. I was once a beautiful woman full of life and spirit. Now I'm frail and weak, and the life drains out of me each day.. Of course, he still tells me that I'm as breathtaking and vivacious as ever.
He's sweet. I love how he loves me.
I kiss him once more and he rolls over and falls back asleep. It's still early.
My robe is draped over the chair that belongs to my vanity table. I crawl out of bed quietly and retrieve my robe, glancing at the wig that sits on my table.
I walk over to the blinds and close them a little more so he gets some well deserved rest.
I make my way down the hall, past my painting room, our TV room, a few guest bedrooms, his office and finally to my study.
I don't spend too much time here, but this is the place where our memories live inside a worn notebook.
I pick it up and go over to sit on my soft couch for what seems like the millionth time. I pick up my special pen engraved with our last name and begin to write.
Who knows what this day will bring? Maybe even a miracle...a cure. Maybe not...
But at least I write, so he'll have something to remember me by after this day, like so many ones, goes by too fast.
Life is fleeting, but my love will last forever.
***
