forever.

ooc; I may delete this or change this at some point. I also haven't proof read it, so it may be rather repeatative and, well, crap.

Many months had now passed, days passing as swiftly as the birds flying up in the bluest of skies. Jay lay back upon a large double bed, his back pressed against the headboard. His attire was far more formal than that which he usually graced others to view, though, by now, his shirt had lost its previous pristine condition, swamped with creases around the hems that had now been pulled out from his dress pants. Around his collar was a loosened old tie, one which had been worn by his father at his wedding to Johnny’s mother. Upon his feet, he wore a pair of shiny black shoes, the laces tightly done up in hope of keeping their owner from tripping over and nearly landing flat on his face [which had, sadly, occurred earlier on in the day, causing a rather deep blush to cross over Johnny’s cheeks].

Soft, brown eyes glanced down to the deep crimson cover of the book resting upon his lap, his fingers brushing against the leather material whilst his thumb acted as a bookmark to the current page of interest. The book was battered and worn, the pages wrinkled and creased, showing that it had been in the young male’s possession for at least a year or two previous [or that some kind of fluid had been spilt on it frequently, which had happened on one or two occasions]. No matter, the book was one that Johnny would never exchange for a newer one, nor would he throw it away. It was something that he kept close to his heart, something that gave so many memories, ones of recent hours and ones of many months before. It was Johnny’s journal of sorts, though it only focused upon one aspect of his life. One aspect that he had, in fact, forgotten little over a year and a half ago.

It hadn’t been through fault of his own, but it was something that Johnny had felt an extreme form of remorse about. Memory loss was something that he had never really thought about until it had chosen him to be the next victim, locking away parts of his mind that he wanted so badly to access - his first year of dating Martha Smith, and his proposal to her, the girl of his dreams. It had been like an entire year had been stolen away from him, though he was able to remember small portions as the months went by.

Slipping his thumb over the page that it held in the small book, the cover folded backwards, revealing the detailed contents inside. The words were written neatly across the faint lines that ran across the pages, Johnny’s fluent writing style inked strongly against the white background. On one corner of the page rested a golden wedding ring, sitting there for only a brief time as the male wrote words of the day down using an pen that he had found in the bedside table. It had been an odd weight upon his finger, though one that he had been happy to accept as part of him earlier that day. Yes, his wedding day. Well, their wedding day. Something that the two of them had shared and, now that it had been written down, one that neither of them would forget. It was something that Johnny would be able to reminisce about, seeing his own words rather than relying upon something as fragile as the human mind.

A faint smile couldn’t help but cross Johnny’s lips as his gaze fell upon the gold metal, rubbing his thumb and forefinger over the cool material, fiddling now with the shiny band between his fingers. After several moments, the male slipped the ring back onto his wedding finger, admiring how something so simple could signify so much, a lot like the book that lay before him. A book that held so many memories and moments, something that Johnny had sworn to fill with moments that he had cherished ever since that moment that he had realised just how heartbroken Martha was on that day that she realised that he had forgotten about her. It had been that day that he, too, had felt the pain of a broken heart, though not from loss of love. It was more that it was something wrong with him that had caused those hot tears to pass over Martha’s cheeks, tears that should have never been shed.

Allowing a soft sigh to pass across his lips, Jay closed the book before him after finishing his latest passage, setting the pen back down upon the table beside him. Eyelids briefly closed before slowly flickering back open again, only for his gaze to fall upon a figure dressed in white at his door way. The male’s smile extended, his legs sliding from upon the bed and taking his small weight, carrying him across the room to the young woman. Wrapping one arm around her waist, Jay rested his forehead against hers, his left hand rising to lightly stroke over her pale cheek. The woman’s hand raised also, resting upon the back of his neck, fingers stroking over the Chinese symbols, that matched her own name, that had been imprinted there several months before.

“I never thought that I’d ever find myself getting married to someone as amazing as you.” His words were soft, almost to the point of a whisper, his fingers running through her golden locks. “I love you so much, Mrs. Martha Farber.”