Very Fragile! Handle with care!

The original story most likely came to life in early summer 2001 – as far as I remember – and was the result of a broken heart mixed with plenty of Tequila and an evening all on my own.

About one year ago I decided to post the story without further corrections or editing besides a spell check, just to see what happens.

Due to the reactions I now have decided to translate that very story into english, too.

I want to thank meanblackjack – he prefers BlackJack – for his patient help with this translation – as he had helped me with all of my translations.

I hope, you enjoy the story and supply me with both feedback and a vote – the stars at the bottom of the page are yearning to be clicked, you know?

Don't be a mean monster, fulfill the stars desire to reflect your opinion on my story.

Yours

MaitreNuit

A young ray of sunlight floated between the pastel green leafs of the trees in front of her window, and like a soft kiss landed on her eyelids. Soft and gentle like a butterfly's touch, just as tender as HIS kisses used to be.

She woke up with a sigh on her lips – the birds outside seemed to sing their most beautiful songs only for her – and with a smile on her lips, she remembered HIM.

The sweet, precious moments in the morning, when HE used to take her hand before class, pulling her through a hole in the hedgerow in front of the economic high school, they both attended, caressing her face and kissing her gently.

HE then used to say: "Good morning, little grasshopper. Now I can survive the boring hours of lectures."

Back then... In the first days of school, before the cliques established.

While she stepped beneath the streams of water, falling from the shower, she remembered how different the things have been back then, and how much she had changed since. The hard jets of water tingled on her skin and ran in slow rivulets down the curtain.

Suddenly she remembered an afternoon, back in fall of their last year at the economic high school.

It was a rainy afternoon in November, and her relationship at that time was faltering for some reasons she couldn't remember anymore. She was sitting in the yard, bitter tears of sorrow running down her cheeks. It was a very cold day and she had left her jacket in her locker, but she refused to walk through the whole building with her tears running down her face – to shameful it would have been for her to be seen.

So she sat there, shivering in her flimsy T-Shirt, while her tears bathed her face in grief. Her sobs drowned out HIS steps, and so she didn't realize HIM approaching.

HE put HIS coat on her trembling shoulders – As long as she had known HIM, HE always had worn dark coats or jackets – and whispered soothing words in her ear. Then HE sat next to her, took her hand in HIS and asked her what bothered her.

At once all of her floodgates opened wide, and she poured her heart out to HIM. In the end it lead to the dilemma, whether she should break up with her boyfriend at that time or give their relationship a second try.

A skilled observer probably wouldn't have missed HIS short hesitation before HE answered, but she didn't register anything at all.

"Grasshopper... Do you love him?!

As she affirmed, HE continued:

"If you really love him, and he loves you, there is no reason to end the relationship... As long as the two of you really love each other..."

Back then, if she had wasted one single thought on understanding, what HIS advice included, she would have realized HIM advising her against HIS own interests.

If this relationship would have gone south, she would have been free... Maybe even free for HIM.

She stepped out of the shower, and a single teardrop mixed with the drops of water from the shower trickled down her face to her lip.

Soft, thoughtful and good, THOSE were the words, coming to her mind spontaneously, when she tried to describe HIS behavior towards her. Weak, annoying and ridiculous, THOSE were the words, she had used with her girlfriends.

Behind HIS back, they taunted HIM, because HE wasn't like the other guys at school.

HE was too sensitive for the "Cool ones", too smart for the "Freaks" and too fun-loving for the "Nerds".

The mocking nicknames, they had given HIM – and HE usually turned into compliments in HIS own ironic way – no one could keep count of.

She was very ashamed of it, but back then she was messing around with HIM. To her and her clique, HE was a wuss, a weakling, although HE – when they first met, seven years ago – was neither weak nor a softy.

It was the first day of 12th grade, and to HIM, it had already been a sombre year by then. Within less than twelve weeks HE had lost and buried two of the dearest and most important people in HIS life.

On that day – less than two month after the second funeral – HE was standing – dressed all in black, like it was going to become sort of HIS "trademark" soon after – in front of the school's main entrance, smoking a cigarette.

A fellow student, used to see HIM as some sort of passive and silent punching bag, started needling HIM for some reason. Though HE didn't react at all, finished HIS cigarette, turned away and provided HIS challenger with a quick-witted reply. The other student, encouraged by earlier experiences, attacked HIM – or at least tried to do so, because HE quickly turned, grabbed HIS attacker by the throat and pushed him up the doorpost, letting HIS opponent's feet dangle about six inches off the ground.

An alarming calmness was in HIS icy, low voice as HE told him:

"Leave me alone, or I will end you!"

With that HE dropped him to the floor and went upstairs to HIS classroom.

After she was fully dressed, she started searching her purse for a lighter. Accidentally her gaze fell on something slim, gleamy on the floor of her closet. It must have been fallen out of the purse she wanted to carry today.

This something turned out to be an elegant silvery lighter, and a sad smile appeared on her face. She gave it a try out of curiosity – and the flame showed up at first try.

Her eyes welled up with tears.

HE had presented her with this lighter five years ago.

At their school, the annual Valentine's Day prom took place and a few days prior to that she had asked HIM spontaneously to go there together.

As she had expected, HE was overjoyed and agreed immediately.

At the night of the prom, as they met at the entrance, HE gave her a small packet and almost apologetically added when she opened it:

"It's nothing special, but you wont need to keep asking others for light... And it comes from the heart."

She put it in an empty compartment of her purse – the very same purse, she found now, five years later, in her closet – and totally forgot about it.

The whole evening it seemed like HE was reading her wishes from her eyes and HE was very pleasant company. Her friends called HIS behavior silly and annoying, but looking back, she realized, HE just tried to be thoughtful.

After the ball, when everyone was preparing to leave, HE wanted to leave her with a kiss on her cheek while thanking her for the nice evening. But she, as she had planed with her clique – started rebuffing HIM, telling HIM in front of all students that everything was just a joke, and she even in her wildest dreams never would be together with a loser like HIM.

In the aftermath, HE became far more silent than ever before, and also HIS academic results started to become worse. The former A-Level student made HIS final exams with a C.

But she didn't care, she didn't even know, because since a party after the Valentine's day prom she had a new boyfriend and hadn't wasted a thought on HIM.

A pair of shades hid her eyes and the tears in them when she sat in the cab and told the driver her destination – the airport.

On the way the cab got stuck in a traffic jam and she took the letter from her purse that had reanimated her memories a couple of days ago.

The letter was from a former fellow student who now was studying with HIM.

„I'm writing to you because..." the letter read. "... and although I never really understood why, HE had loved you. You've hurt HIM very much, back then, but I believe it didn't mean anything to you back then and it will not mean anything to you now."

She cried bitter tears, because now it meant a lot to her. Back then HE already was, what she was looking for now.

"You probably didn't know, but HE used to write..."

She knew it and back then she had made fun of it.

Behind HIS back, she had called HIM a failing poet, but she had never read anything of HIS. The stories, HE had given her, she had thrown away without reading them.

One or two years ago, she would have liked to read some of it, but it was too late.

"... but HE wrote pretty well and I think, you should finally read some of HIS works. Breaking HIS heart on Valentine's day although HE already had a weak and kind heart, shows your cruel nature. Every next Valentine's day HIS heart broke a little more and..."

The cab reached the airport, and she stashed the letter back in her purse. With a hoarse voice she asked the driver for the price, paid and entered the building.

After she was boarded and the plane took off, she took the manuscripts attached to the letter and all showing HIS clear and spirited handwriting, and read them again – once again weeping throughout all the flight.

At the exit terminal of the airport, the fellow student already was waiting for her, and they shared a cab.

While driving, they only spoke the least bit necessary.

"It speaks well that you want to see HIM once more. Although, I don't see why this might help anyway. You've never known HIM. To you, HE only was a nerdy jerk."

Though to her it was her debt after what she had done to HIM. Now, after she had learned so much more about HIM and HIS true self, it seemed to be her obligation.

The cab stopped in front of a big, wrought-iron gate that interrupted a massive ten foot high wall surrounding a huge, park-like compound.

"Now you have to go on your own, I'll be waiting here."

With insecure steps she set forth, knowing which path to follow.

Around her, countless birds sang their songs, the afternoon sun's light broke through the leafy branches and crowns of the mighty trees and the whole area was so peaceful and contemplative.

There HE was!

Right in front of her.

HE was laying on a hill beneath a big chestnut tree.

The date on the tomb told her what she needed to know.

And the epitaph read: