How to Say Goodbye

They said you should start light. Romance perhaps? I said I don't know how to make people fall in love. They said write from experience. So I said quiet . Who would ever want to confess that they had not experienced that? I laughed along and said I'll think about it. Think about romance ? I wanted to laugh at the surpassing thought . How can I ever? The wild flowers might lose their melody and become a backyard flower, still Norah was never going to fall in love . Certainly not . Good gracious . Why would a mystery and thriller author pack their bags and head course towards romance? Because you've been rejected 20 times and while they like your flow they've told you continuously to change the genre. Ever since high school I have been pretty confident about a career in writing, so yeah, becoming an English major was high up on the list of my priorities . And with the good amount of writing competitions I won it wasn't hard to get an editor . It wasn't hard either to put words together and create something . I thought I was the next big thing. And now I realize I'm just like the millions of others striving to even be noticed . "It's honestly not that bad Norah," my editor says one fine summer morning . I look up at him . "Oh really?" I ask as I slouch on the sofa . "Yes , really. It's not like your thrillers are all just about some people trying to solve a murder case , you have character development and you've written about characters falling in love before." I smile at him . This was something that I envied about Keith . His apparent obliviousness about certain things made me want to pinch his cheeks at times. "And if we made a pie what percentage would that be?" He stares at me from the other sofa with a blank look , as if calculating . "At most one sixteenth?" With eye-brows raised I stared back . As if saying and so you know why this won't work. "Honestly it's not half as bad as your minds putting it. Think about it, it might even be fun ." "Tell me then Mr. Adam , what do you think is the sole purpose for people to buy romance ?" "That's easy , people want to be loved , thus they like watching perfect lovers . Something the real world begs not to give ." "While philosophic, you're wrong ."I say and watch him frown. "I am wrong ?" he asks as if offended . I bury the urge to roll my eyes. "Yes you are. People read romance mostly for erotic scenes . Think about fifty shades. It's a massive hit." His frown deepens . "You can write the classics you know . Or try teen romance . Most of them barely touch the bedroom topics ." His way of wording intimacy made me smile, it was like hearing a 12 year old say it, someone who has just found out what s*x was and was grossed out. That's rich coming from you when you're literally still grossed out just by thinking about writing it. "And what they lack in those they fill up with emotion . Do you see how most romances word the first meet even? I moved my eyes only to be captured by a captivating pair of crimson blue . I imagined nectar dripping from those orbs as I felt like a hungry bee. My insides were at rage , and I had turned into the king of the underworld with my queen in front of me . Oh goddess of spring, please, please undo me." Keith smiled. "We can start with that ." He said and I almost felt my ears turning red. "No. No . No. That's how they word it. It was an example." "But not a quote . You made it up and it sounded like an okay start. We can start with that and then proceed to scrape the surface or maybe even the insides ." I sighed . This conversation was giving me a headache . "I think I'll make a cuppa coffee. You want some?" I said getting up from the sofa. He smiled again nodding his approval. As the coffee maker hummed I thought about it . Why was it that I was so against romance ? Was it the first breakup? It was the only one . And there was a reason as to why it was the only one. It was winter . I remember the day vividly . Back then I used to keep a journal and wrote down every little detail in it. I think with the constant moves I always made sure we lost them. I didn't want to take them with. Simply because of the want to start anew. Except maybe on 98. In that year I made an exception . And I've been making that exception over and over again . I stopped writing during 97 . And that memory I carry even now. Summer of 95 father gets transferred to this small town over the violet river. I honestly was ecstatic . I was starting high school . And who wouldn't want to start high school in a completely new town? First day of school was like any other. A lot of new faces. Some people knew each other from before and a lot of us were new. There was no one who felt left behind at least not in my eyes. Everything was just as gorgeous as they possibly could be. And I was happy. I made friends . There was Susan , Ashley and Tiffany . All of us were new in town . And it was a good mix . We got along well , we had nearby seats even . By midterm everyone in our class had become friends . We were well acquainted with each other . And it astonished me how we were all so close but still, still Anthony got left behind almost always . It wasn't like I noticed that right away . In fact it took me a whole school year to figure it out . He simply didn't mix with the others. It's not like he never came forward to play or hang out , it was just that he was never quite there with us . Never truly existing . So in 10th grade when we all got shuffled into different classes , I was a bit surprised to have found Anthony's desk assigned right next to mine . Over summer break he had not once crossed my mind . And now there he was . I was considered one of the more sociable kids in 9th grade . I was cheery . And Anthony just was one of the introverts . Surely there was nothing wrong with it , but for someone like me , it was a bit of a downer . I was still glad to have Ashley in the class, though she sat on the opposite side of the room, almost making communication during class impossible . So I sat down and looked at my row-mate. I pulled one of my best smiles and said , "Hi." Anthony, not looking up from whatever he was reading back then only nodded. Maybe that did take a slight toll on my mental state . I was friendly I was always friendly . Then why couldn't he be nice for a chance ? Though now it feels like a brush-able thought , back then it felt like mountains crumbling . For 14 year old me, it meant too much. "You take an awfully long time making coffee , you know that?" Keith said entering the kitchen . I looked up from the stove to find him playfully smiling . "You can do it next time ." I said as I smiled back .