Chapter 9

Never before had I ever met someone so beautiful. I knew he wouldn’t go for me. He was rich, eloquent, beautiful. I was poor, shy, and barely able to make a grammatically correct sentence out loud. Something about him reeked mystery, and I had no idea what. His eyes were…sad. Almost. If I hadn’t gone in that day to quit my job, I never would have met him. I never would have embarked on this fascinating journey.

“It’s quite alright.”

My face lit up, in a burning sort of way. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t speak. I certainly tried.

“I- uhh- umm-”

He smiled at me. “Are you okay…miss….?” He hinted at me to tell him my name.

“Oh! I- umm- Maria.” My hand shot out, making things even more awkward and formal.

“Hello, Maria” The beautiful man took my hand, kissed it, and smiled at me.

“My names Garret.” He said, his warm face lighting up as he shook my hand.

At that moment, I really looked up at him. His eyes…they were sad, like something tragic had happened in his life that hurt him deeply.

I hoped my eyes didn’t show the same thing. If they did, I hoped he found comfort in them, knowing someone else had pain in their life. Memories of my mother’s death flickered through my mind. I quickly put it behind me, and pulled my hand away.

I turned to leave, but turned my head back to say I quick and awkward, “Bye” before walking away.

“Let me take you out to dinner.”

I stopped in my tracks. Was this man actually asking me out? I couldn’t. there was no way. I turned around and looked at him. He seemed completely serious.

“You’re joking.” I took a step towards him.

“I’m not.” He smirked.

I sighed.

“I can’t. You don’t want to know me. I’m not like you. I’m sorry.”

Without letting him to speak, I turned and walked out.

A few days later, there was a knock at my door. I came outside, and found flowers.

They were beautiful. I noticed a note, and pulled it to my face to read it.

Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, Lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk and pass our long love’s day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side
Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast;
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart;
For, Lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
            But at my back I always hear
Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song: then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
The grave’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
            Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapt power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.
                                    ~Andrew Marvell

I smiled, recognizing the poem from my english class from school. It made me giggle, as I understood the intention, even though there was a little vulgarity to the poem. I placed the strip of paper that carried the poem back into the flowers and turned back into the house.

Over the next weeks, I received more flowers. More poems. More knocks on the door.

Then one day, it all changed. It started out the same, the knock. I opened the door, and there he stood.

“Hello, Maria.”

“H-h-hi” I pulled a small smile.

“Tell me you’ll go out with me.” He grinned in a dreamy, romantic way. It tipped the scales for me.


I never would have embarked on this fascinating journey.

One comment on “Chapter 9

  1. That poem was lovely! (: I love how persistent he is-it gives him a very romantic side, but it also presents itself with the possibility of darker intentions. I’m excited to see how this turns out!

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