The Best Thing In Life Was Him

Here Comes The Princess Bride!

When Aaron asked her the question, he was kinda passing it off as a common question, ordinary, everyday, a run-of-the-mill conversation topic.. But he was shirtless and it was perfect, he was a beautiful boy, a sultry, gorgeous guy, long black hair, curling just so tho, a manly man. Did I mention he was shirtless? Oh, yes, he was easy to please, his charm was half-naked, half-dressed, a MIRAGE. He was set on his way, real stoked about how he could go outside without freezing his balls off. His words, not mine. How like Aaron to think of this, this cold ass day, but still he was eager to see the winter fade away in the twilight mountains, spring moving in like a lion, sinewy and thick-calves on all fours was! Some things never change, his humor, the self-deprecation won a few people over, ten times ten thousand more, a fun-loving funster in the heart., a true pocketfull of kryptonite. He was a brazen chief of the woods, a free slave roaming the plantation, an eypgtian mummy dancing like an eygptian on the way to Taj Mahal Drive-Thru. And orde1ring three big kahuna tuna sandwiches on rye and eight chocolate malts, large-sized and a vanilla latte for the pretty little lady! A 24 ouncer! Make sure she gets lots of vanilla and caramel drizzle and extra whipping cream. Nothing I would not do for the girl who said she would be honored to be my blushing bride, my hunny pot, pot o' hunny poon-tang wing-dang. He was so out there, dancing to his drummer, the guy from Cream. Yes sir, indeed. Ginger Baker, yes, renowned for drumming by other drummers! Heed the harpichord, maestro. It leaves a whiff of alcohol cleanser on the hand that feeds. And it nips at the dark side. Setting it free to roam the earth, looking round at the black eyes in the hills, staring back until they silently fade away. The time Aaron told her he loved her was magic. Like a sheer solid dense mass, her heart felt heavy, heavier than the usual eighteen pounds. 24 pounds at seashore gally. The rift in the pocket of freedom, nothing left to lose. How did it come into play? Amazing concidence, tarkey, let me tell you. Tiny balloons fell into the sea, spelling out the love for all to see. AARON LOVES JESSICA! JESSICA, WILL YOU LET MY HEART BECOME ONE WITH YOURS? JESSICA, MY BABY, MY GIRL, MY LADY, MY LOVE, MY EVERYTHING! Of course, Jessica said yes. What else was to say? NO? Fat chance of that. It was written in stars, it was fate. A truer love never could be truer. The time they were going to spend as honeymooners was slated to be a thrill a minute, no, a thrill every 15 seconds. Outsite, man. It was always a thrill to be Aaron's girl, wasn't it, Amber? Until the moment of the cave-in, no doubt. Then all bets were off, eh, girl? Love you forever, Aaron, oh, wait, see, Amber was just joking about the bad times, good times. She never really meant a word she said, once, maybe, but that was about the weather, see how she never meant nothing, what she said was just what she thought you wanted to hear. A terrible lie. A heart ripped asunder. And thanks, Amber, thanks for trying to make Aaron look bad, a real good try there. In some people's books, he is damned for all time now. But not to those who knew the truth or cared enough to not to believe this could be true. Aaron was a man among many, who rose above the crowd, Aaron, there was a buzz about you, a fervour, a certain way you felt no restraint even when your hands were tied, you were a free man in your head. You were always free, dear Aaron. Always. A passing through kind of thing. Yeah, that's the ticket. A one way ticket to Alcatraz. Aaron did not know about human nature in the real world. In prison, human nature was the nature of the beast. He did not know what happened with Amber was human nature. Rats will desert a sinking ship, they say. Well, human nature is the same. Rats will desert a sinking ship to jump another ship passing by on its way to the Caribbean. Wait, that is not a bad trade, why would anyone prefer a sinking ship? Heroic dreams? A suicide mission? Thinking the ship's officer yelled, "Fix your face, girl, how can you look so bad?" instead of, "Mayday! Mayday! Abandon Ship! Abandon Ship! Attention Starboard!" A tragic life-altering mishap. Well, life-ending. Freedom is just another word for Oblivious. He sat on the bed and began to massage her. She sighed, content in the undulating motion, so giving was he. He always filled the biscuit jar when it was empty, taking down the large package from the over-bed cabinet high above the floating candles in the deck wine bar. The biscuits were biscotti cream, chocolute mousse, strawberry regal, cinnibin butter-coated, vanilla dreamette, mocha medley, kona kona, tralina toffee, peanut snicks, fig and cream, hanna banna, raspberry moulin, truffle trifle, divine mint, praline buttercream, neapolitan neco, french toast, cinnamon cider, asigo melder, shrimp pizzota, lemon and cream, lavender creme, crawdad jubilee, great neck plum sauce, tiny cream puff, italian soda, finnish fennel, steeped tea cream, cream of baguette, mushroom risotto, cucumber celery, davenport orange cream, apple pie, harvest fall, kira cream and fennel, crotins de sabo, creme de menthe, misty mallo, crackseed bran, alloto gelate, meired creme, apricot and creme, sage-fennel salt rub, gionna linchea, kerry berry, lusho lambee, brighton beel, crab racine, little apricot chewies, zemonwhip, zemonpouche, zemon and cream, lindonberry delight, lynchberg lero, the whitewash, cracker and barrel, riva rice pudding, elenta deep dish. The touch of shamrock made it special. Aaron set the tin down on the table near the teapot. It was a fine day and hot! A touch of romance in the air. Aaron, it cried. Come dance the light fantastic, my dear. My own prison. Of my own making. Contary to popular belief, it was a warm, warm summer that year. It was a nice month in the city, spending days trolling for trinkets, making love on the south side, the east side, the west side and don't forget the North! How could I? That is where Aaron dazzled me with his brillance, his prized possession. I loved the way he looked asleep, like a tired starling. I love the curve of his cheek on mine. I loved that the space age tropical harvest numbers seemed to escape him. I loved the way he felt, like my heart dropped a thousand feet. I loved the way he came to me, asking if he could have a stab at defeating the wicked witch on Banjo Kazooie. He was so cute! A real good looker, whoa, he was all that and more. He was a cut above the finest cloth, like silk to linen. Made with my best interests in mind, I would like to add. I loved the way he entered the room, like he had been gone for days and days or month, like he could not go another second without laying his hands on you. Like he had forgotten what it was like love all that time. Never felt in a million years. Always cloudy here. Aaron was my thing, my appetite, my burgeoning soul, my outstretched wings. He was a Bette Midler song, some say love, it is a hunger. Hungry like the wolf, hungry, hungry. Meow! The kitten stretched so languidly, like a lush pile of pizza. Aaron was the best without even trying.

I guess Aaron did not know that the trooper who shot him three times meant business. I mean, it is not like he was warned ahead of time. Being tazed prior to the killing shots hopefully made Aaron unaware of what was happening. He died hopefully not knowing that this trooper meant business, and by business, I mean "to kill". The living room floor soon became his deathbed. Aaron was a beauty before my eyes, it was a nightmare playing out right in front of me, I never in a million years thought this happened to people really, it seemed far and away from real. How could this happen? Because it can. Because it does. Every day. Every way. My regards to your mother, she must be beside herself with grief. Your father, he sits in the recliner, day after day, flipping the channels. He has no faith left in mankind as a whole, no hope either. He just sits there and stares out the window, looking for your truck to pull in the circle drive, but it never happens. But everyday, he waits again. Looking to the stars and the moon at night and crying out, oh, no, aaron, seemingly the hurt is brand-new and fresh, a recent cut in the flesh. Infected now, tender, pink. An infected state. Poison brewing in the pot. Sad state of affairs. How I remember when you use to say to him, "hey, dad, you're gonna freeze them things off" and then you would laugh uproariously. And he would join you, cracking up at every breath, his hee-haw in an uproar. The good days are gone, aren't they, now, Aaron. Gone for good. And I'm so sorry. Believe you me, I would give anything in the world just to have you back with me. I need you. I never thought that you would leave in summer. I thought you would go and come right back. What ever happened to the days of old, where the days passed too fast to even begin to count, there were millions of days to still be had, to spent on one more beautiful. At seventeen, I learned the truth. That love was a beautiful earnest song of get your groove on, tush tush in the bush, no one like you, you're dynamite, baby.l