The Sketching of a Fictional Love

Another stroke with the charcoal, another step towards completing the portrait. What had once been an empty white canvas that stood before her in all its glory, now stood before her with the beginnings of a picture. A black and white photograph had been paper clipped to the top right corner of the canvas, so she could use it as her guide as she sketched from her memory.1

Music played from the stereo behind her, her iPod connected up to it so she could play the music she desired. Her face was streaked with black, both from the charcoal and from the eyeliner her tears had dragged down her face. It wasn't like she cared either way. All she could focus on was the canvas, and the memory in her mind that kept playing over and over again.2


*_XXX~XXX_*3


Her iPod volume turned up all the way, her hands shoved deep into her pockets, her face nearly hidden by her hood, the rain falls continuously all around her. She's been this direction so many times before. She's passed this house at least a million times. Her feet do all the walking; she just goes wherever they take her. She stopped in front of the large two-story house and looked up at the only window with a light in it. She couldn't help the small smile that came to her face then as she realized just who's room that light belonged to.4

'She's home,' she thought, her smile fading a bit, 'instead of with her .' She looked at the ground then and turned to walk away when heard the faint click of the front door unlocking. 'Shit.' And then a light spilled over the porch across the dark front path as the front door swung open. She looked up, her cool grey eyes meeting nearly identical ones.5

"Suki?" A faint voice called out to her from the figure in the doorway. The nickname she had given her. The nickname only she had ever called her. The nickname that had meant love, because she had once been her love. It was almost lost through the music pounding in her ears. Her hands fumbled with her iPod, trying to turn it off. She stuffed the headphones into her pocket and looked up, so her face could be seen in the light. The figure in the doorway smiled at her, cocking their head slightly. "It’s late…Suki, what are you doing here?"6

She had no answer, for she wasn't quite sure herself why she was there. All that was left of Suki's small smile fell and she turned away. She was at a loss for words, as she always was around this person. And she hated it, because the other girl was always so elegant, so graceful with words. Suki just shrugged, afraid to meet the other girl's eyes.7

"I'm sorry," Suki said, nearly a whisper. The girl seemed to stare right through her, and it sent a chill down Suki's spine. The other girl took a step closer, straining her ears to hear Suki. Her face had a look of puzzlement on it, completely lost to the reason why Suki was there. Slowly, the girl moved down the porch steps and towards Suki. She stopped just a few feet away. Suki gazed at her for a few moments before looking away. "I'm sorry. I'll just go..."8

"No!" the other girl said, putting her hand onto Suki's arm. "I mean...you must have had a reason for coming here, right?" Suki looked back at the girl and took a step closer. She shook her head.9

"No, Ai," Suki replied softly, using the nickname she had in turn used for the girl. "None at all..."10

"Oh," Ai said, her face falling. Suki felt a pang in her heart then, as if it had been something she had said that had made Ai look somewhat sad. Of course, Ai could probably care less, but Suki felt the need to feel sorry for it anyways, especially when Ai dropped Suki's arm. Suki stepped forwards at that moment as tears pricked her eyes and wrapped her arms around Ai in a hug. A little shocked at first, Ai finally gave in and hugged her back, holding Suki close.11

"Stay, Suki," Ai whispered as Suki pulled away and Suki nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. Ai held out her hand and Suki took it willingly, letting herself be led back into the house and up to Ai's room.12


*_XXX~XXX_*13


The tears fell faster and more frequently as she felt a wave of nostalgia hit her. She ground her teeth together in anger at herself for being such a fool, for going there time and time again with the person she loved more than everything else in the world. For going there with a person who would never really love her back. Ever.14

Anger and hate filled her then, and she pressed down on the charcoal as she sketched on her canvas, making the lines darker than she had intended. Frustrated, she had to smudge the dark lines out, turn it into shading, if only to fix her portrait.15

“Damn her,” she hissed under her breath. It was so easy to put all the blame where she thought it belonged, off of her and onto someone else. It was so easy to ignore the twinge she felt her heart make as she did so, pretending she wasn’t the one to blame for any of it. But how wrong she was. For, if she thought about it, she was the one who was responsible for it all. She had been the fool.16


*_XXX~XXX_*17


Suki gently ran her hand through Ai’s long, honey brown hair, her other arm wrapped delicately around Ai, their bodies entwined, their soft naked skin pressed up against the other’s. Ai slept peacefully in Suki’s arms after their last night in passion.18

'Like an angel,' Suki thought, tenderly kissing her cheek. She breathed in Ai’s scent, a cross of cigarette smoke and stale perfume. Strangely enough, it mixed well for Ai, and had always been a familiar, welcoming scent for Suki. Suki rested her forehead against Ai’s for a moment and closed her eyes as well. And suddenly, just like that, reality hit her. Suki tried so desperately to get away then, falling back, tears brimming her eyes. She couldn’t be there, not like that, not again.19

‘I’m such a fool,’ Suki thought, grabbing at her clothes that were scattered around the room. She moved towards her bag, stuffing things back inside of it. She froze as her hands stopped on a digital camera. Standing up straight, the camera in her hands, she looked at Ai once more. Ai was still sleeping, on her side, with the moonlight spilling onto her from the window, nearly in the position she had been when Suki had wrapped her arms around her, her arms reaching out for Suki, who was no longer there.20

Suki bit her bottom lip, trying hard to blink back the tears. Everyone knew how Suki loved Ai beyond anything else. Everyone knew how much Suki treasured Ai as the greatest thing in the world. Everyone knew how Suki would go to the ends of the earth for Ai if it ever called for it. Everyone knew how Suki would die for Ai if ever the need arised. Everyone knew just how intense and passionate Suki’s feelings for Ai were. But not Ai. Ai had merely thought it was a fling, no strings attached, more of a friends with benefits kind of thing. So everyone knew that Ai felt nothing for Suki; it was a one-sided love.21

Suki never meant to let it get that far, never meant to feel so strongly for another person, let alone another girl! But we can’t help who we love, only how we act upon those feelings. And sadly, Suki took the first chance offered to her to act upon those feelings. What a foolish mistake it had been. To ever think Ai might learn to love her the way Suki loved Ai…but Ai could never feel for Suki what Suki felt for her. Ai didn’t have the ability to love that strongly, especially if it was Suki she had to love that strongly. Besides, she didn't need to love Suki. She had her . And Suki definitely wasn't anything compared to her . At least not in Ai's eyes. Never was. Never would be.22

Suki brought the camera up and aimed it at the bed. To be able to capture the memory as it was and to be able to sketch it over later would be the most beautiful thing in the world, she thought. It was almost picture perfect. Almost. Suki clicked the button and then tucked the camera in her bag with the rest of her things. All set to go, she began walking towards Ai’s door.23

“Suki?” Ai’s voice called softly as Suki turned the doorknob. Suki inwardly cursed herself for not being more quiet and waking Ai up. Suki set down her bag on the desk near the door and turned to Ai with a small smile. Ai sleepily grinned up at her. “Where are you going? Suki… are you leaving?” Ai’s grin fell as that thought occurred to her and she sat up.24

Suki silently crept over to Ai and sat down on the edge of the bed. She leaned over and kissed Ai on the cheek. In return, Ai scooted over and wrapped her arms around Suki’s waist, leaning her chin on Suki’s shoulder as she gazed up into Suki’s face.25

“What will your mother think when she sees me here in the morning, hmm?” Suki tried the first of many excuses. Ai shrugged, still gazing up at Suki with her wide round eyes. Suki smiled, remembering how she once told Ai a person could get lost in them. They were extremely beautiful, to Suki at least. “What will my own mother think when I’m not in my bed when she comes in to wake me up in the morning? I can’t stay, Ai, Love… I have to go. I’m sorry.”26

Ai giggled and leaned up, giving Suki a tender kiss on the lips. “Never apologize…at least not to me.” Ai rested her head on Suki’s chest for a moment, tightening her grip around Suki’s waist. Suki kissed the top of Ai’s head and slowly pulled away as Ai lied back down. Suki stood up and turned to go, but Ai reached out then and caught her wrist. She pulled Suki down to her and pressed their lips together one last time.27

“I love you, Suki,” Ai whispered, closing her eyes, her head resting on the pillow. She let Suki go, who stood up, and let her arm dangle over the edge.28

"I love you too, Ai," Suki nearly choked on the words. She ran one hand through Ai’s hair for a moment, hearing Ai begin to purr almost like a cat. As Suki delicately traced her finger along Ai’s face and then down her neck and arm, a tear escaped down her cheek, falling off and hitting Ai’s shoulder. For those three small words were hardly said by Ai when she was speaking to Suki. They were words Suki often longed to hear, and shocked her on the occasions she did. But tonight…tonight Suki was thinking differently. She turned away, missing the frown on Ai’s face as she once again picked up her bag. Only this time, she made it out of the room.29

Suki never once returned to that house. She made a point not to. Nor did she ever speak to Ai again, unless the occasion called for it. For how can we associate ourselves with a fictional love? Because that’s all the love between Suki and Ai was, fictional. It meant nothing; it was nothing. At least not to Ai. And in Suki’s mind, that was all that mattered. Ai.30


*_XXX~XXX_*31


That’s exactly what she was sketching, a fictional love. A perfect memory, trapped in a perfect box, shaded just so. She couldn’t stop crying now, trying so hard not to think about it, trying to hard not to remember. For what’s worth remembering a love that was never real?32

She had been such a fool. To let it get as far as it did. To keep going back whenever the chance was offered. To willingly give in and give herself away the way she did. But love is often blind, and sometimes, even the strongest love can’t see. More often than not, it’s the deepest feelings that get us so attached, that keep us hanging on. She let herself be controlled; she gave herself away, and for what? For a soft touch, a passionate kiss, and a fictional love? Because the love that was returned was certainly not real. Love is a fool’s game, and she had been a fool. For she fell in love. And that’s the most foolish thing a girl can do.33

And so she collapsed to the ground, a sobbing heap with a blackened face and a broken heart. For the portrait was done. What had once been a blank white canvas was now a black and white sketch, an enlargement of the photo still paper clipped to the top right corner. She looked up at her masterpiece, one she had worked on for so long. But was it really worth it? It was bad enough having the memory in her mind, to see it every time she closed her eyes. Now it had been sketched onto a canvas.34

A girl lay on the bed, on her side, curved slightly as though she had just been in the arms of her lover, moonlight spilling onto her from the window, reaching for someone who was no longer there. The image was done in black and white, for color couldn’t do the real thing justice. It brought a pang to her heart every time she looked at it. And she couldn’t help looking away, the last words of her love ringing through her ears. Fictional words to a fictional love. That’s what she’d always remember it as. For that’s what it was and that’s what she had portrayed. The sketching of a fictional love.35

36

37

38

39

40

41

42

FIN