Hot Wheels and Tight Hugs
When she was six and he was four, he shared his Hot Wheels with her. She preferred his sisters' Barbies, but not wanting to hurt his feelings, she pushed the miniature cars around the floor, pretending that Ken was driving, taking Barbie to the movies.
When she was seventeen and he was fifteen, he gave her his truck, relieved that he would not be forced to be seen by his peers behind the eyesore's wheel. This time she took his gift enthusiastically and he was grateful.
When she was eighteen and he was sixteen, he gave her a Valentine, eternal servitude and his heart, which she treated carelessly while longing for someone else's.
When she was born, he was almost a century. She took her first breath and little did he know that one day he would take her last.
When she was seventeen and he was one hundred and nine, she gave him her undying devotion. And he in turn left her alone and heartbroken in the forest.
At eighteen and one hundred and ten, he presented her with a ring; and for him she gave up her friends, her family and her future.
One boy's gifts paled in comparison to the others. He could not afford to give her diamonds and cars nor fancy clothes. No promises of eternal youth and beauty. Just a too-short lifetime of warmth and babies, trials and tribulations, friendship and heartache, laughter, worries and gray hairs; with only the guarantee of sunny smiles, tight hugs, passionate kisses, a warm soda and free tune-ups for all of her natural life.