The icy roads gleam in the reds, greens, whites, and bright blues of the holiday lights shining from the houses as his car slowly drives past. The radio plays softly in the car, whispering Christmas carols almost as if not to wake the neighborhood. He glances out the frost-tinted windows and takes in suburbia, with each lawn covered in small armies of snowmen, tiny forts that were no doubt loaded to the brim with snowballs, wreaths hanging on gift-wrapped doors, and the occasional mistletoe hanging above those. He had missed it all, but in some way, he resented it all as well. He had been gone, living in a place where there was no snow. He lived a life that wasn't who he was. He had ran from this place as fast as he could, knowing that he couldn't take watching his love die slowly day after day. He left three years ago, Christmas Eve, and three years to the day, he had returned.
He wasn't sure what to expect now, with three years of no letters, phone calls, no signs of life. He left every shred of his past behind him and became someone new. The sounds of snow crunching under his tires as he pulled into the driveway he hadn't pulled into since the day she said she couldn't be with him pulled him from his own mind. He hadn't the nerve to admit he was wrong for three years. He hadn't the decency to contact her to tell her why he left and that he loved her for three years. After this long, he wasn't even sure if he knew why he left. Stopping the car in the drive, he looked to the place they once called home. Her, his sister and her life-partner, and him. The memories flood his mind, causing his hands to grip the steering wheel and tears to fill his eyes. He resisted the urge to drive away, to go back to his life in the sun and never come home again, but that thought snapped him from his misery. Home. This was his home - is. It is his home, not some condo on the beach in the south, no. This place, with its faded paint, rusted fence, and extremely sloping foundation was his home.
He stepped from his car and walked through the snow to the door, his mind a nervous ball of conflicting thoughts. Did she still live here? Was she with someone else? Was she with someone who deserved her and treated her better than he did? He knew that someone as amazing as her deserved so much better tan him, but as he reached the door, his body froze solid, leaving him standing there much like the snowmen he saw on his way here. Her hair was tinted and cascading across one wide and beautiful eye, her hand was pressed to her lips, and that one eye he could see was lined with unshed tears, three years worth of unshed tears. She was still so heart-stoppingly beautiful and he felt the same way he did when he first saw her. Neither of them moved, nor spoke, mostly because they were both afraid to say something and make the other leave again. His mouth opened and closed, his tongue heavy as lead. Her hand moved forward, towards him, then stopped and drew back, her body unable to move. He didn't know what to do, much less what to say, and with his eyes full of tears and his throat dry as sand, he said the only thing that he was able to.
"Merry Christmas..."
"Merry Christmas...", and before the last syllable left her lips, she was in his arms, both of them drowning in their love for each other, and both knowing that neither will be leaving the other again. Their lips touched as the snow fell around them and mistletoe gleamed in the soft porch light above them.
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Happy Holidays to all my readers... Brian aka Sonic Boom
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