I ran away.
	There wasn't anything I could do beyond that and you know it. Each
time I closed my eyes, I saw you standing before me, eyes wide and
frightened, pupils dilated, tears running streaks down your cheeks. You
always were vulnerable, soft...pliable. I hated myself as you sank below
the horizon of my sight, like blood sliding down a wall. The thump didn't
register in my ears over the tide of rushing blood. It was too
stereotypical. Everything happened in slow motion, and when the enormity
hit me, I ran away.
	Why would you do that? Why would you say you love me? It's
ridiculous. You don't know anything about love and neither do I. We're too
young. I don't want to fall in love yet, and even if I did, I can't fall
in love with you. There's just an entire world apart between us, and
there's no way to bridge that gap. Can't you see that? I can't be your
prince on a white horse.
	It hurt to run through the rain that way. Each raindrop was like a
bullet as I sped away, gangly, arms and legs akimbo. I was feeling you.
You'd say I was fleeing...'love', whatever that concept is. It was hard to
keep from falling over, and my entire body was shivering. It was the
unexpected kind of storm. The day had been sunny when you called, when you
wanted to meet me in the field, to just hang. I wore cutoffs because of
the breeze. Maybe that's an odd thing to be thinking about, how I like the
feel of breeze through my hair, on my skin. A soft touch, the fingers of
an angel. Now heaven was crying and angel tears were battering me into the
ground. I slipped and fell into a mud puddle, nothing but tall grass and
black, roiling skies as far as the eye could see. I wondered if I was
being judged, if I was paying penance.
	I wondered about you as I forced myself up, fighting against the
unbearable weight of falling water. Did you feel an angel's touch out
there? It had always been our favorite spot, ever since we were kids. You
said it looked like an ocean of green in the summer, like you could get
lost in the 'waves', looking up at the sky. I had always thought you were
from some different planet, in those days. Thin, pale, that dark red hair.
My parents would whisper about yours, the city folk who thought they could
make it out here in the country. You talked about things like art and the
sights you'd seen. I wondered what drew you here, of all places. I felt
stupid and silly whenever I talked to you, but still, you smiled and said
I was your best friend, that no one else had given you a chance. And when
you said that, I felt better inside.
	Sometimes I was angry at you, when I had to work in the fields at
harvest time. I don't know why I put up with you hanging around, sitting
and watching while I baled hay or other stuff. Maybe it was the sound of
your voice; considering before you came it was just me out in the hot sun
all the time, having someone nearby to talk to was a nice change. You had
a nice-sounding voice. Calm. Breathy, I think they'd call it.
	I don't know what possessed you to think you loved me. Why you
told me that in the middle of my dad's cornfield. With your pale lips and
your breathy, quiet voice, you told me you loved me. You didn't think
people would approve but you didn't care, because it was love that
mattered, right? Your best friend would understand.
	I didn't understand. I felt stupid and small, like you were
talking about things I had no business understanding. I was afraid you
were seeing me as something I wasn't, and when you wouldn't listen, I
suddenly felt very angry. Why was it always you? You were the one who laid
in sunbeams and talked about God and nature and painting. You were the one
who tempted me with the dark red hair and the deep green eyes. It was
always about you. Selfish, irresistable you. And in that one split second,
all my anger poured out. One simple, quick punch to the head. A normal
person, someone used to it, they might have merely flinched. But delicate,
porcelain you couldn't quite take it, and went down. I felt your blood,
warm and red, on my knuckles.
	And so I ran. I ran away from love, because I didn't understand
it.
	The rain's getting very heavy now...maybe I'll just lie down in
the field a bit and rest...


by Todd Harper
lina@sandwich.net

The Sunburst Project, Week 1
http://www.chaoseed.com/btr/sbp/
3/14/00