|Here's to my Love
Author: xLostInWhatWillBex PM
What I think Juliet may have been thinking just after she discovers Romeo dead, and just before she kills herself.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Romance/Tragedy - Romeo & Juliet - Words: 750 - Published: 12-24-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8827155
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Here's to my love! O true apothecary, thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss, I die. 120.
He is dead. I cannot believe, will not believe; that my fair, beautiful, loving Romeo is dead. The love of my life; my life, a life worth living that had seemed just to begin; is over for eternity.
My love's last words. I but heard them as my eyes were opening to see his lovely face for just a moment before it crumpled into agony, his soft hair falling over his sparkling eyes as his taut, chiselled shoulders slumped forward and my love's beautiful face fell upon my breast.
I had dreamed so much of us, of him; in the short time since our love had blossomed like a delicate flower in the sweet air of spring. My short, empty existence finally had meaning. The sun shone gloriously brighter in his wake; the air was sweeter, fresher; food tasted better. But none could come near to equal the all-enveloping feeling of passion and desire he stirred deep in my soul.
My Romeo, my dear sweet Romeo. His very being was the stuff of mystery, his voice like poetry, a rhyme, a riddle entrapped in human form. I can see him in my mind's eye; my Love's tall, muscled body, the curves of his shoulders, his arms, as he wraps them around my torso, sliding a strong hand through my hair, drawing me closer; his eyes, deep as the sea, staring back into mine; his lips, stretching into an enchanting smile then moving slowly closer to embrace me once again.
With love's light wings I flew over these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out, and what love can do, that dares love attempt: therefore thy kinsmen are no to stop me. 68.
So quick and fervent his devotion I but feared it too sweet to be so. Yet after the first meeting I wanted only him, all others had vanished from my memory forever; all I wanted, all I needed, was him. All I wanted, needed, was my Love; to gaze into his beautiful face, breathe in his scent. With but one verse, I was nothing but a dutiful follower of that thing poets call Love:
Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged. 105.
My heart, soul and every fibre of my being, snapped in two as I watched the last flecks of existence seep from my Love's enchanting person in a single tear, sliding from his once shining eyes; never again to gaze back into mine, to cause my heart to leap out of my breast. Never again to kiss me with his full, tasteful lips in a hungry, searching way; never to caress my body with his strong yet gentle hands. His unique way of gazing at me caused my knees to buckle beneath me, caused my heart to beat with such speed that I believed it would burst through my chest and taking my senses with it leaving me to just stand, gazing dreamily back at my Love, without any means to move nor think but of him alone.
My Love's kiss was sweet as honey upon my lips; his touch soft as silk; his sent as fragrant as a sea of wildflowers and I am in its centre, drinking in his presence. His soft, gentle lips tracing kisses across my cheek, down my neck…He was so loving, so caring, so full of passion that it filled my heart to bursting. And now that my Love is gone, my heart hath burst, for it can no longer sustain my life without my beloved Romeo.
But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the sun! 3.
My Love whispered those words to me below the balcony of my window. He thought I could not hear him, but I heard every spoken thought, every utterance deep from the heart. He is my sun, my light, the air I breathe, the vision I see whenever my eyes but close. Now that my Love no longer draws breath, it is as if the very essence of my soul has run dry, my heart can no longer beat for it has lost the strength that my dear, sweet Romeo gave to me. It is too much that I cannot bear.
O happy dagger. This is thy sheath. Rust there, and let me die. 170.