It was past lunchtime, but I was sitting in the tea room, alone. With my head in my hands, I looked at the elevator and let my mind wander… Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay They say love stories are the best stories, so I've always wanted one for myself. But nothing could have prepared me for its impact when it finally arrived, and the many faces it brought with it. Many faces, that is, all representing one face... His face. We had met by chance in the elevator at the airport. the old office building. She was a bank manager, or so she said, while I was a temporary worker. She had entered the elevator that day, a colorful description of a strong woman. One who had control over everything in her world, including the smallest details. But then there was something in his face, something that called to me when he smiled and waved back. He had suggested that beneath the appearance of the boss lady, beneath the façade of the perfect woman, there was a woman who carried a lot of pain inside her. And I had felt a deep sympathy for her. We were alone, so I had tried to strike up a conversation. I can't remember exactly what I said that day, but whatever it was, it had worked. Because it was enough to earn me his company during the following hours of lunch and tea break. And it was during our third lunch together that she opened up to me. It turned out that she had a husband who was more abusive than caring. One who delivered more pain than pleasure; that he loved, but only to radiate hatred. And she loved him. She loved him even though she knew she shouldn't. She loved it even if it fueled her unwanted desires. Hers was a love story with little sign of a happy ending, and she knew it. Yet she clung to him. He pushed her to the edge, but she stayed… I became her counselor, her shrink, her diary. My willing ears were his priest, and my presence his confessional. She told and I listened. Story after story of lust, mixed with violence and hatred. And beneath it all, his pure and determined love. Until that day... She hadn't been to the elevator, or even to lunch. I half expected her to show up before the end of lunch time, but she hadn't come. I had lingered a little after closing time too, expecting to catch her on her way out. But it didn't have to be this way. She never showed up, so I began my long wait. Day after day I waited, hoping to catch a glimpse of her once again. And every day I came home empty. After a few days I inquired, only to find out that he had never worked in a bank. Nobody knew her, nobody but me. But did I really do it? Because all I had was one name, one name... As the days passed, I lost count. I just knew I wanted to see her. I wanted to see her so much it hurt... Even just to tell her how much she meant... They say love stories are the best stories, so I always wanted one for myself. But nothing could have prepared me for what happened with the discovery that I was in love with Elizabeth. A woman like me, only much older. And nothing could stop the faces... The faces I saw everywhere... His face. The clock struck six, marking sixty-two years since she had been gone. I got up. It was time to go home again. Please note: this is just an example. Get a custom paper from our expert writers now. Get a custom essay FINE