Poem and Prose Scraps (That Don't Quite Fit Elsewhere)

The Last Step

I loved her,

Though she refused to believe it,

So I told her everything I felt in hopes that one day she'd see it was true.

I told her she was beautiful.

I told her she was my world.

I told her I wanted nothing more than to make her happy every day.

She... always gave me an odd, strained smile when I said that one,

Sometimes a shaky laugh.

I told her I would follow her to the ends of the earth.

I thought she started to believe me,

That maybe she would finally let me love her.

I thought it had finally happened.

"Meet me at the ends of the earth," she told me,

And I went as fast as I could,

To the top of the overhang,

The end of the earth.

She was not there.

I waited,

I called for her,

But she was nowhere to be found.

A folded piece of paper was on the ground.

I picked it up,

Studied it,

Read it,

And looked over the edge.

I found her,

And I understood.

The end of the earth.

But on the paper,

In her handwriting,

Were the instructions:

Do not follow.

As of now,

I have heeded her words.

As of now.