Dedicated to BrittNLeigh who always leaves such awesome comments and is so supportive.  Check out her story Never Mine, it is awesome!

Dear Heartbreaker,

Some memories are so clear, so real,  it is as if I can almost taste them.  Would they be sweet as a fresh strawberry, juicy and almost decadent? Or as sour as one of those gummy candies you ate like crazy, shaped like little kids with creepy faces?

Akin to a mirage appearing in the dessert, I see the Wishing Fountain, an old relic symbolic of a different era.  I can feel the smooth stone beneath my palm and the droplets of water which dance upon my finger tips as I skim my left hand across the surface.  Gazing down to the bottom, there are a plethora of keys gracing the eternal resting place for wishes and dreams alike.

A tradition commenced years before my birth, a student had only to wish upon a gold key, kiss it and toss it into the fountain.  Then dreams would play out and wishes would be granted. Or so it seemed to many young foolish hearts or too-drunk-to care students.

You stood there, handsome and commanding, a true future officer.  You could never fade into the background, your presence was all consuming.  Not just because you were gorgeous in appearance but it was your essence, the man you were becoming who radiated confidence, humor, and an addiction to life.

Walking forward, your right hand slowly opened, revealing your true gift. A small gold key rested on your palm, a symbol of your love for a plain farm girl named Elise.

We held each other's gaze for what seemed like eternity until silently, you knelt before me, offering the key to my heart.

To other girls, the key might have been a disappointment of sorts. Expectations for jewelry or specifically a promise ring would have been dashed when they beheld that simple, small object. But to me, it was worth more than any precious gem or fancy gift. It was an offering of your heart, sentimentality linked to tradition, and a way for you to cement the permanence of Cole and Elise.

Words failed me that day as my eyes filled with tears and my hands shook. Your brow creased in confusion as I stood frozen, gazing at you, silent. Then the floodgates opened and I flew at you, knocking you over next to the fountain. We went down with a thump. You didn't complain about the pain. Instead, you smiled, wrapping your arms around me and holding me flush against your body.

Before you could even blink, I wrapped my hand around your hand holding the key, squeezing gently, before leaning down and pressing my lips against yours.

Yes, I surprised you by initiating the kiss, teary face and all.

Tenderly, your lips melded against mine and it was if every bad and ugly memory was erased and replaced by the intense and all consuming molding of you and I: physical, emotional, spiritual...complete. I whispered those three tiny words against your mouth in-between captivating kisses.

I love you, I love you, I love you...

You smelled like pine trees and molasses cookies; an intoxicating scent, permeating my foggy brain as I released a sigh of satisfaction and contentment. Cole and Elise, Elise and Cole.

We probably appeared to be crazy drunk. Me, who abstained from alcohol, acting like I was inebriated in public. What a juxtaposition to the self-conscious girl I portray to the world.

But you know what, I was one hundred percent ok with that! At that specific moment in time, I was ready to say 'screw it world, you can't break us.'

When we finally finished our passionate embrace, I rolled off of you and we stood up, identical goofy grins plastered on our faces. You handed me the key and I closed my eyes, taking a moment to wish then I kissed the key and tossed it in.

I made a courageous wish that night, a wish that ended up broken but maybe that brokenness was the true answer. Looking back, I wished for an everlasting love. Practical, no. Sentimental, yes

Funny how I now know that my wish was not in vain. Everyone has an internal desire to be loved and to love. Sometimes love manifests as control, dominance, anger, jealousy, or coldness. Other times it's passionate, fiery, colorful, peaceful, sweet, and comforting.

If we were honest with each other our love was full but empty, all-consuming but suffocating, real but fake. We were "perfect" for those first ten months. So perfect that I wasn't prepared for the storm of destruction that would cause me to question everything I thought I knew about love and loving you.

Yours Not So Truly,

Elise