Aftertaste

I

Michael

I think each of us are born in a unique manner, with a box of matches inside of us that cannot be struck by ourselves. If it wasn't for Erica Richards, her depth, the emotion she carried with her every single day, her strong, twisted and interesting mind, the way she always made me smile and think of this world as the best darn place to live: I couldn't have made it on my own.

I remember the first day I met this angel. I remember that it hurt, looking at her hurt. She was as fragile as a guitar string. But that wasn't the end to her. I saw the pain in her eyes, and she let me in at the right time. My goal was to make her feel better; to fix her, but goals aren't all accomplished.

I want to ask you something, have you ever loved someone so much, it made you ache inside?

Erica is someone patient, caring and materialistic. This woman made me realize the difference between pretty and beautiful; that it's not always what you picture it to be, but the best thing you have ever laid your eyes on. The whole point of loving someone is so that just one word from them could change your whole outlook on things; you can let go of everything, even when you're at your worst and they'd still love you the same. But Erica Richards didn't love the same, she loved more.

She wanted the type of love that could consume; a little danger, respect and adventure. She was so engrossed with the idea of finding a little bit of love that would consume, I could swear she forgot how to live. But it's hard to wait around for something that'll never happen and it's even harder when you know you won't be the one.

She never wasted her time on those ungrateful assholes who came pestering behind her simply because she was pretty but the world is too big and she had too much to offer. But they never saw what I saw in her. She was way more than just a pretty face. She deserved all the love in the world.