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"We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,
frae morning sun till dine ;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
sin’ auld lang syne."
Verse from "Auld Lang Syne" by Robert Burns
Every New Year I hear this song and every year the same thing happens. I promise myself that I’ll see her again, but I just can’t bear to pick up the phone. Times Gone By, the song says, and it sets me dreaming every time.
Emily and I were together all our childhood days. Her, the auburn haired girl with the beautiful smile and me, the mop-haired boy who dreamed too much and never kept his feet on the ground.
When we were really young we would promise that we’d always stay together. ‘Always Together’ we’d say. It wasn’t a boyfriend/girlfriend thing; we were too young for that. I look at kids these days and wonder why they are in such a hurry to grow up. Eight year olds talking about sex and all that?
We were happy with our little worlds, the fields of wonder and those tall oak trees that gave us hours of innocent pleasure. We would play in the stream or sit on the curb watching the world go by on its busy way. No cares and no worries. It was a wonderful life being a kid.
As we grew older our feelings evolved into love for one another. Maybe it was the years spent together as kids, maybe it was familiarity, who knows. But we still stayed together. But all things change. She went off to college and I stayed in my small town, still dreaming. I saw her less and less after that. She went her own way and got engaged to some boy from the city. That’s life, I guess. I found myself with someone else too, but it never lasted. None of them did. I just kept thinking of her.
This year I tell myself it will be different. Maybe I just want to get the feeling back. You know; to feel like I did when I was younger. My hand hovers over the dusty phone and stays there for a while, but then retracts. I need some strength.
It would have been better if I’d told her. Maybe even If I’d turned up for the wedding, or even at the funeral, when he passed away after that accident. Horrible business, I felt so sorry for her being alone like that. People told me that they’d been going through a rough patch, but I know she’d have been a good wife to him. I never met him either, but I’m sure she made a good choice. I was never far from her in my thoughts and the small town chatter made it easier to know how she was. She never found anyone else either. My wishful mind thinks that she was feeling the same as me.
I did meet her again, not that long ago. She came back to visit the town and called at my house. We spent a wonderful few hours together then, talking about old times. She seemed to find it hard to say goodbye, but she told me she had to go back to her place. She would be back though. My heart leapt.
She came back often then. We spent time together, chatting, walking and enjoying each other’s company. But I never told her how I really felt. Stupid really, but I was afraid, afraid to spoil it all. One day I would tell her.
But that was then, and this is now. Eventually, I make another try for the phone. I dial the number written on the card and wait. Long, agonising minutes. Finally, a voice.
“Hello?”
“Emily?” I manage to say between my dry, cracked lips.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“It’s me, James.”
I wait for a reaction, but it’s not what I expected. She cries. Perhaps she’s happy to hear from me, but it doesn’t sound like that type of cry.
“Please.” She says, her voice is now the one that is weak and cracked. “Who is this?”
“It’s me, James. Your James.” I say. She must surely recognise my voice? “I wanted to hear your voice again. One more time. I wanted to make sure you were ok.”
“Please. Don’t!” She’s crying while she speaks. “James is dead.”
“I love you.” I manage.
She continues to cry.
“Always Together”
“James!” Her quiet voice makes it through the tears. “I love you too.”
“Bye…” My last words before my strength leaves me and the phone falls. It’s done. I promised myself I’d call her and I did. I can rest now.
frae morning sun till dine ;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
sin’ auld lang syne."
Verse from "Auld Lang Syne" by Robert Burns
Every New Year I hear this song and every year the same thing happens. I promise myself that I’ll see her again, but I just can’t bear to pick up the phone. Times Gone By, the song says, and it sets me dreaming every time.
Emily and I were together all our childhood days. Her, the auburn haired girl with the beautiful smile and me, the mop-haired boy who dreamed too much and never kept his feet on the ground.
When we were really young we would promise that we’d always stay together. ‘Always Together’ we’d say. It wasn’t a boyfriend/girlfriend thing; we were too young for that. I look at kids these days and wonder why they are in such a hurry to grow up. Eight year olds talking about sex and all that?
We were happy with our little worlds, the fields of wonder and those tall oak trees that gave us hours of innocent pleasure. We would play in the stream or sit on the curb watching the world go by on its busy way. No cares and no worries. It was a wonderful life being a kid.
As we grew older our feelings evolved into love for one another. Maybe it was the years spent together as kids, maybe it was familiarity, who knows. But we still stayed together. But all things change. She went off to college and I stayed in my small town, still dreaming. I saw her less and less after that. She went her own way and got engaged to some boy from the city. That’s life, I guess. I found myself with someone else too, but it never lasted. None of them did. I just kept thinking of her.
This year I tell myself it will be different. Maybe I just want to get the feeling back. You know; to feel like I did when I was younger. My hand hovers over the dusty phone and stays there for a while, but then retracts. I need some strength.
It would have been better if I’d told her. Maybe even If I’d turned up for the wedding, or even at the funeral, when he passed away after that accident. Horrible business, I felt so sorry for her being alone like that. People told me that they’d been going through a rough patch, but I know she’d have been a good wife to him. I never met him either, but I’m sure she made a good choice. I was never far from her in my thoughts and the small town chatter made it easier to know how she was. She never found anyone else either. My wishful mind thinks that she was feeling the same as me.
I did meet her again, not that long ago. She came back to visit the town and called at my house. We spent a wonderful few hours together then, talking about old times. She seemed to find it hard to say goodbye, but she told me she had to go back to her place. She would be back though. My heart leapt.
She came back often then. We spent time together, chatting, walking and enjoying each other’s company. But I never told her how I really felt. Stupid really, but I was afraid, afraid to spoil it all. One day I would tell her.
But that was then, and this is now. Eventually, I make another try for the phone. I dial the number written on the card and wait. Long, agonising minutes. Finally, a voice.
“Hello?”
“Emily?” I manage to say between my dry, cracked lips.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“It’s me, James.”
I wait for a reaction, but it’s not what I expected. She cries. Perhaps she’s happy to hear from me, but it doesn’t sound like that type of cry.
“Please.” She says, her voice is now the one that is weak and cracked. “Who is this?”
“It’s me, James. Your James.” I say. She must surely recognise my voice? “I wanted to hear your voice again. One more time. I wanted to make sure you were ok.”
“Please. Don’t!” She’s crying while she speaks. “James is dead.”
“I love you.” I manage.
She continues to cry.
“Always Together”
“James!” Her quiet voice makes it through the tears. “I love you too.”
“Bye…” My last words before my strength leaves me and the phone falls. It’s done. I promised myself I’d call her and I did. I can rest now.
i liked it. bit, cliche, but nice :)
"We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,
frae morning sun till dine ;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
sin’ auld lang syne."
Verse from "Auld Lang Syne" by Robert Burns
Every New Year I hear this song and every year the same thing happens. I promise myself that I’ll see her again, but I just can’t bear to pick up the phone. Times Gone By, the song says, and it sets me dreaming every time.
Emily and I were together all our childhood days. Her, the auburn haired girl with the beautiful smile and me, the mop-haired boy who dreamed too much and never kept his feet on the ground.
When we were really young we would promise that we’d always stay together. ‘Always Together’ we’d say. It wasn’t a boyfriend/girlfriend thing; we were too young for that. I look at kids these days and wonder why they are in such a hurry to grow up. Eight year olds talking about sex and all that?
We were happy with our little worlds, the fields of wonder and those tall oak trees that gave us hours of innocent pleasure. We would play in the stream or sit on the curb watching the world go by on its busy way. No cares and no worries. It was a wonderful life being a kid.
As we grew older our feelings evolved into love for one another. Maybe it was the years spent together as kids, maybe it was familiarity, who knows. But we still stayed together. But all things change. She went off to college and I stayed in my small town, still dreaming. I saw her less and less after that. She went her own way and got engaged to some boy from the city. That’s life, I guess. I found myself with someone else too, but it never lasted. None of them did. I just kept thinking of her.
This year I tell myself it will be different. Maybe I just want to get the feeling back. You know; to feel like I did when I was younger. My hand hovers over the dusty phone and stays there for a while, but then retracts. I need some strength.
It would have been better if I’d told her. Maybe even If I’d turned up for the wedding, or even at the funeral, when he passed away after that accident. Horrible business, I felt so sorry for her being alone like that. People told me that they’d been going through a rough patch, but I know she’d have been a good wife to him. I never met him either, but I’m sure she made a good choice. I was never far from her in my thoughts and the small town chatter made it easier to know how she was. She never found anyone else either. My wishful mind thinks that she was feeling the same as me.
I did meet her again, not that long ago. She came back to visit the town and called at my house. We spent a wonderful few hours together then, talking about old times. She seemed to find it hard to say goodbye, but she told me she had to go back to her place. She would be back though. My heart leapt.
She came back often then. We spent time together, chatting, walking and enjoying each other’s company. But I never told her how I really felt. Stupid really, but I was afraid, afraid to spoil it all. One day I would tell her.
But that was then, and this is now. Eventually, I make another try for the phone. I dial the number written on the card and wait. Long, agonising minutes. Finally, a voice.
“Hello?”
“Emily?” I manage to say between my dry, cracked lips.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“It’s me, James.”
I wait for a reaction, but it’s not what I expected. She cries. Perhaps she’s happy to hear from me, but it doesn’t sound like that type of cry.
“Please.” She says, her voice is now the one that is weak and cracked. “Who is this?”
“It’s me, James. Your James.” I say. She must surely recognise my voice? “I wanted to hear your voice again. One more time. I wanted to make sure you were ok.”
“Please. Don’t!” She’s crying while she speaks. “James is dead.”
“I love you.” I manage.
She continues to cry.
“Always Together”
“James!” Her quiet voice makes it through the tears. “I love you too.”
“Bye…” My last words before my strength leaves me and the phone falls. It’s done. I promised myself I’d call her and I did. I can rest now.
frae morning sun till dine ;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
sin’ auld lang syne."
Verse from "Auld Lang Syne" by Robert Burns
Every New Year I hear this song and every year the same thing happens. I promise myself that I’ll see her again, but I just can’t bear to pick up the phone. Times Gone By, the song says, and it sets me dreaming every time.
Emily and I were together all our childhood days. Her, the auburn haired girl with the beautiful smile and me, the mop-haired boy who dreamed too much and never kept his feet on the ground.
When we were really young we would promise that we’d always stay together. ‘Always Together’ we’d say. It wasn’t a boyfriend/girlfriend thing; we were too young for that. I look at kids these days and wonder why they are in such a hurry to grow up. Eight year olds talking about sex and all that?
We were happy with our little worlds, the fields of wonder and those tall oak trees that gave us hours of innocent pleasure. We would play in the stream or sit on the curb watching the world go by on its busy way. No cares and no worries. It was a wonderful life being a kid.
As we grew older our feelings evolved into love for one another. Maybe it was the years spent together as kids, maybe it was familiarity, who knows. But we still stayed together. But all things change. She went off to college and I stayed in my small town, still dreaming. I saw her less and less after that. She went her own way and got engaged to some boy from the city. That’s life, I guess. I found myself with someone else too, but it never lasted. None of them did. I just kept thinking of her.
This year I tell myself it will be different. Maybe I just want to get the feeling back. You know; to feel like I did when I was younger. My hand hovers over the dusty phone and stays there for a while, but then retracts. I need some strength.
It would have been better if I’d told her. Maybe even If I’d turned up for the wedding, or even at the funeral, when he passed away after that accident. Horrible business, I felt so sorry for her being alone like that. People told me that they’d been going through a rough patch, but I know she’d have been a good wife to him. I never met him either, but I’m sure she made a good choice. I was never far from her in my thoughts and the small town chatter made it easier to know how she was. She never found anyone else either. My wishful mind thinks that she was feeling the same as me.
I did meet her again, not that long ago. She came back to visit the town and called at my house. We spent a wonderful few hours together then, talking about old times. She seemed to find it hard to say goodbye, but she told me she had to go back to her place. She would be back though. My heart leapt.
She came back often then. We spent time together, chatting, walking and enjoying each other’s company. But I never told her how I really felt. Stupid really, but I was afraid, afraid to spoil it all. One day I would tell her.
But that was then, and this is now. Eventually, I make another try for the phone. I dial the number written on the card and wait. Long, agonising minutes. Finally, a voice.
“Hello?”
“Emily?” I manage to say between my dry, cracked lips.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“It’s me, James.”
I wait for a reaction, but it’s not what I expected. She cries. Perhaps she’s happy to hear from me, but it doesn’t sound like that type of cry.
“Please.” She says, her voice is now the one that is weak and cracked. “Who is this?”
“It’s me, James. Your James.” I say. She must surely recognise my voice? “I wanted to hear your voice again. One more time. I wanted to make sure you were ok.”
“Please. Don’t!” She’s crying while she speaks. “James is dead.”
“I love you.” I manage.
She continues to cry.
“Always Together”
“James!” Her quiet voice makes it through the tears. “I love you too.”
“Bye…” My last words before my strength leaves me and the phone falls. It’s done. I promised myself I’d call her and I did. I can rest now.