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homerfreak2011

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I pulled the diamond ring out of my pocket. I looked at it for a second, and felt tears flood my eyelids.

“Where did it go wrong, Amy? I thought we were happy…” I shook my head, blinking the tears from my eyes, and headed out to the truck, putting the ring back in my pocket. The 30 minute drive to the church seemed to last forever. Memories of her invaded my mind. I couldn’t think straight.

I pulled up to the church, behind the rows of cars. I had to stop when I saw the name on the sign outside the church. “Saturday: Trey Rogers-Amy Smith wedding.” I took a short, ragged breath. I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and re-read it. “Saturday: Randy Pullman-Amy Rogers wedding.” I leaned back against my truck door, taking a deep breath. The limo driver was smoking, leaned up against that long white car. I looked up at him and nodded. He nodded back. I stared at the door, my brain telling my feet to move, but they wouldn’t budge. I turned the ring over in my pocket.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore the memories. I heard the chiming of the bells in the tower of the church. The doors flung open and rice went flying. A crowd came out first, then gathered around the door as Amy walked out, Randy holding her hand. I swallowed hard, feeling my heart hit the ground. “Why am I even here?” I whispered to myself. I shook my head as the limo driver put out his cigarette in the grass. Amy smiled and kissed Randy. The dress was white, not ivory, but she looked just as good. She panned the crowd with her eyes and I suddenly felt hers connect with mine, even from where I was standing, over 100 feet away. Her expression changed. It was a mixture of surprise and fear. Surprise that I had came. Fear that I was going to make a scene. Within about 5 seconds though, she jerked her gaze away and went back to smiling. No one acknowledged that I was there. I saw her father shake Randy’s hand the same way he did mine…

I got back in the truck as they were getting in the limo. I followed them down the church drive, and as the turned right, I turned left. I floored it about 20 miles, to an old bridge, deemed unsafe by the city. There were white and orange barricades, but I drove through them. The bridge creaked as I got out of my truck and slammed the door. I wondered if it would hold the weight.

I slowly walked to the edge of the bridge and leaned on the cracked wood railing. Tears kept stinging my eyes, but I kept refusing to let them fall.

“I love you.” She kissed my eyes as I closed them, letting myself rest in her arms. “Just relax, okay?” I felt her fingers in my hair. I kissed her stomach, then re-wrapped my arms around her waist and hugged her close.

I pulled her ring out of my pocket and held it, rolling it in my palm, remembering just how it looked on her finger. The diamond sparkled in the sun.

“What if, Amy? What if I would’ve asked you to stay? What if you never left? Would we still be together? Would you still love me like you did two years ago?” I shook my head, drew my arm back, and let the ring fly. It went a good 300 feet before plopping into the muddy river. I wiped the tears from my eyes. “I’m tired of wondering.” I paced between my truck and the railing about 50 times before stopping. I walked over to the railing, climbed up on it, and stood up, holding onto the beams above me for balance. I took a deep breath, held it in, and jumped… Now I don’t have to wonder anymore.