This isn't it.

            He kissed me hard, but not with vehement passion.  He clumsily yanked at my silvery belt buckle, struggling at first to release the metal prong from the punctured leather, but promptly jerking the belt harder and thrusting the encumbering parts aside.  He unfastened the button of my ivory shorts so hastily that I barely took notice until he crudely pulled them off and flung them onto the disheveled pile of other stray garments on the floor.  He stopped the stripping long enough to shoot me a grim smirk, savagely staring at me with his hardened hazel eyes.  I tensely averted my gaze, instead fixing my eyes upon the bright fuchsia bow that adorned my silky lace panties.

_____

            The little girl scampered around the flower garden, following the mother as she watered the blooming perennial plants with her faithful watering can that early summer evening.  The mother graciously smiled down at her as she stooped to sniff a tuft of purple buds on the little lilac bush.  Her damp, freshly-washed hair, holding the highlights of afternoon sun and smelling of fruity detangler spray, hung loosely down her back as she crouched close to the fresh mulch.  She balanced her agile frame on her sturdy heels without grazing her just-lathered-in-sudsy-soap skin against the dirty ground.  The mother playfully sprayed her arm with a drizzle of water that evoked a giggly shriek and backwards leap from the little girl.  She was steadied by the mother’s unwavering arms and drawn in for a snug warm hug and ticklish butterfly kisses upon her rosy cheeks.  The mother set the little girl lightly back on her feet and smoothed out the wrinkles in her petite white tank top.  The little girl stood still for the most part, fiddling only with the tiny pastel-pink bow at the midpoint of the slow-sloping neckline of her tank-top.

_____

            I swiftly slid out from beneath his sturdy body, my steady feet landing firmly on the floor.  I snatched up my garments and slid them on as I glided towards the door.  “Where are you going?” he asked as he lunged forward, with confusion, annoyance, and insistence in his voice.  I whipped around sharply, staring at him with fiery eyes.  “I remember what love is like,” I said.  “This isn’t it.”  Without pausing even for a moment to hear a response, I swung open the door and strode out to find the love that I knew was out there, somewhere.