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The Eyes of My Love

A beautiful love story that takes a turn for the worse…. When he isn’t what you expected be…

I pluck a daisy from the side of the woods as the memories of that night come back to me.

It was a dark and rainy night. Cliché, I know. It was raining cats and dogs and I loved every second of it. The raindrops raced each other on the glass. Watching them, I sat by the window of the bar, sipping my beer. Thats when I noticed them. Those emerald eyes.

She was enticing. The way she walked in through those doors grabbed the attention of every person at that bar. The flick of her chestnut hair over those pale shoulders, and her shy peeping gaze drew me to her. I knew it had to be her.

This is how we used to tell others the story of how we met. That one rainy night in a bar in the heart of London. I really believed she was the one. The way she gazed at me with those gorgeous green eyes, it was like she could see my soul.

Her eyes, they were magical. And I loved them more than I love her. But, that was only until that fateful night rolled around. The night when she decided that there were others better than me. And like she burst through those bar doors, she stormed out of my apartment door. What she didn’t realize was that with each step she took further away from me, my heart broke a little more. That was the moment I realized; I cannot let her leave. I cannot give up on those emerald eyes.

Now, my love rests in peace six feet underground. And her emerald eyes are kept safe with me, back home. I leave a small white daisy on her unmarked grave deep in the woods as I walked over to Helen’s house; my new found love with equally enticing hazel eyes. Her eyes would be a great addition to my collection.

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