5 years in 5 months

She awoke with a fragile heart, lashes fluttering in the darkness, bleary and still sleep-eyed.  Her chest felt hollow, broken, and fragile in so many ways.  Her tongue dry, throat raw, eyes burning with the sting of so many tears.  She slid out of the bed, placing her feet on the hardwood floor, swaying some before catching her balance.

Her body felt heavy, as if she were covered with a lead apron as she walked to her bedroom door.  Everything around her seemed to move slowly and almost backward.  If only time really could move backwards.

Her heart throbbed in her chest, broken.  A constant reminder of the night’s events.  A reminder that she would rather be dead then opening her bedroom door and heading to the bathroom to begin her normal morning routine.  Nothing felt normal anymore.  It all felt as if it were upside down, as if she were walking on the ceiling, weighted to it by agony and despair.

She opened the shower curtain, turning the water on and trying to ignore the burning, aching feeling in her chest.  She had so much to do today, so many things that she didn’t even want to start.  Work, school, volunteer work, meetings, friends…friends.  Her heart ached in her chest and tears sprung in her eyes.  She clutched at the fabric of her shirt and whimpered.

Friends.  The word played in her head as a harsh whisper, over and over again.  Her heart pounded and bile rose up in her throat, constricting, choking.

Five months had passed.  Five whole months and she still held onto the idea, the fantasy, the lies he fed her.  Since June she had thought they were still in love.  Truly, madly, deeply because that was how he lead her.  But by September she knew that love wasn’t real.  Five years of love still inhabited her heart, pouring out in beautiful words and promises that he ignored.

Yet, he still lied to her until September.  He still used her, manipulated her into being so broken she went to someone unlikely for comfort, companionship, friendship.  And she found it in one night of desperation.  A 41 minute phone call full of tears and hiccups and apologies.

But she still loved him, without conditions and freely.  His lies, manipulations, and broken promises didn’t change what was in her heart as much as she needed it to.  How could she possibly love someone who lied, cheated and left her broken in so many different ways.  Apparently, just to make her happy and keep her begging, loneliness and childishness at bay.  Hidden behind his comfort and humanity.

“I was just doing you a favor,” he whispers, so harsh he’s almost spitting it, “I don’t love you.”

And she falls again, cutting deep and broken standing beneath the hot water of she shower.  She tries to shake the feeling, rising in her stomach, her chest, from her lips, but it escapes in five damned words.

“I will always love you.”

Fireworks

It was breathtaking, the silence between us. The way he looked at me, brown eyes searching for something familiar in my eyes. He wanted to know that I still felt the same. He wanted to make sure that being there with me was okay. I didn’t know what I should reflect in my eyes. I was finding it hard to breathe. The way he looked at me was suffocating.

I could hear distant explosions in the sky; fireworks. I broke his gaze and looked up. I heard him shift next to me and sigh. He must think I’m over it. That I don’t feel the same. He must think I’m through waiting for him. I feel him grab my hand, but I don’t look down again. I’m too busy looking at the rainbow of explosions in the sky. I don’t know how to tell him I’m still waiting.

I can’t even see the stars tonight, the fireworks are overshadowing them. Explosions of fire and gas that are closer than the stars twinkling beyond this world. He squeezes my hand tight, but I still don’t look down. The fireworks have captured my gaze. I sat there on the blanket next to him, hypnotized by the beauty of the explosions. I don’t think he knows how I feel.

His touch shoots electricity through my body as he moves closer, and I feel my heart race, confused by the sudden, unwelcome, feeling. I try to keep myself composed, but in the darkness my cool expression falters and it takes all I have not to look at him. I don’t know how to tell him how I feel. The words don’t come. There really aren’t words to describe this.

More fireworks go off. I hear all the familiar noises. The siren sound of the ascent, the explosion and the shower of sparks that fall back to the earth, but I’m not really watching anymore. I’m just feeling now. My heart races, my body tingles, his breath against my face. He’s still watching, waiting for his moment.

I’m not ready to see him yet. I’m not ready to feel the familiar ache in my heart. The ache I feel when I want him to hold me. When I’m dying to feel his arms around me. I don’t think he knows that I cry at night, my body shaking, waiting for him. He doesn’t know that I’m still waiting.

His eyes are still glued to my face, his breath hitting against my cheek in waves. I imagine the ocean, the sound of the waves hitting the shore. He’s my ocean and I’m waiting for him to pull me under. I want to drown in this sea. I’m not ready to see him yet.

He says my name softly, practically begging for my attention. I bite my lip, trying to focus on the fireworks and not drowning in this ocean of pain and suffering and maybe even love. I don’t know why I’m still waiting for something I never thought would happen. Maybe this is a dream. Maybe after tonight I’ll wake up and I wont see him ever again.

That’s a chance I’m willing to take as I turn to meet his eyes. They’re full of the love I always imagined that he had for me. The sort of feelings I only thought he felt for me in my dreams. I’m hit by a wave of emotions. I’m still struggling to breathe, drowning in the middle of this sea.

He catches sight of my eyes, watching them with curiosity, probing for the answers I would never be able to tell him with my words. I wanted him to kiss me, to smother me with his lips, to crush all the air out of my body until all I could feel was him on top of me. I wanted it so bad I could almost taste his mouth. I don’t think he knew.

The fireworks were winding down. The explosions were getting farther apart as the people setting them off ran out. I felt a sense of urgency. Was time running out for us too? I stared at him intently, not sure what he was reading in my eyes, but I hoped he knew what I wanted.

His eyes lingered on mine for only a few moments more before settling on my lips, asking his silent question. The one I had already said yes to. Did he even have to ask? He should know by now that he makes my heart race, he crushes the air out of my lungs, he makes it impossible for me to feel normal. He should know by now that I’m completely, totally, irrevocably in love with him. Nothing could change that. Not even the years of heartbreak I had to endure to get to this point.

He leans forward as more fireworks go off overhead and I stop breathing, waiting for him to claim my lips, to make me slip away into this ocean. More fireworks go off while I’m waiting, my eyes slipping closed, my lips parting slightly. I can feel my heart aching. I’ve waited so long for this moment.

It seemed like forever before he was finally there, kissing me softly, crushing the rest of the air out of my lungs. I try not to sob as he takes my face into his hands, his whole body pressing against mine. I need this, I’ve wanted this for so long. I can feel the sting of tears and I pull away, my eyes watering. He stares at me, his brown eyes questioning as the tears fall.

He tells me he’s sorry, he tells me he didn’t mean it. He doesn’t know that’s not what I want to hear. He thinks he did something wrong. He wants to fix it. He wants to be friends. I don’t want any of that. He begs me to forgive him, but I don’t know if I can. What he’s apologizing for isn’t want I’m crying about.

I tell him I’m happy, I tell him to stop saying he’s sorry for the things he did right. He looks confused, but I don’t want to explain it anymore. I wipe away my tears and I kiss him, long and hard. He kisses me back, cradling my face, caressing my neck, fingers trailing down my shoulders.

I feel like my heart is going to stop beating, like I’m going to die right here in his arms. And I think, that if I did I would be happy. If I died here with his lips against mine and the fireworks dying overhead, I wouldn’t regret one moment.

I’m not even afraid.

Nonsense

This isn’t technically a poem, but it’s close to it.

It was a simple task on record, but off it was easily the hardest thing she could ever hope to accomplish.  

In his arms, things were safe, warm, delicate but on the outside of his embrace she was finding life hard to cope with.  On the outside there were no gentle kisses to her lips, cheek and forehead to reassure her of her safety.  There was no strong arms to hold her up from hitting rock bottom.  And there was certainly no peaceful slumber.

She could argue that he didn’t understand what he did to her.  She could almost be certain that he didn’t know of the delicate emotions that erupted with every twitch of his fingers and every flutter of his eyelashes against her cheek.  And, of course, she knew without a doubt that he didn’t know about the sensations she felt when he pressed his bare flesh against hers, or nuzzled her neck.

In fact, she wasn’t even quite sure herself.  The only word previously used to describe these intense emotions was “butterflies”.  The word seemed so broad now.  The butterflies referred to a feeling in your chest or stomach, not a feeling that washed over your skin in waves, making you feel warm, safe and wanted.

Outside of his arms was where she currently resided, head resting on her knees, eyes staring sideways at the blue wall in her darkened room.  One hour being both the exact amount of time he had been gone and the exact amount of time she slept the previous evening (or morning, but who’s counting).  

She was tired, her mind ceased making sense and she still tingled from the whisper of his touch (strong arms previously wrapped around her).  Her body ached to both be with him and to drift off into a peaceful slumber, where her memories of those few beautiful (however, fleeting) moments they shared earlier in the day would be on repeat (and not drenched in blue around the edges).

Alas, neither ache would subside as neither want would come true.

Peace was written on the walls, on her sheets, on her blanket, on her clothes, but never in her mind.  Slumber was painted where it was able to be seen, but not to be acted out.  Love was at the fore front of her mind, body still holding sweet whispers of caresses.  

Dear Mr. Sandman,
the slumber never calms
the waking beast
changing their heart
to let someone in

but perhaps, it’s misery.

7 reasons it’s never the same

It’s 6 o’clock and they’re back to being normal.  Or as normal as they can get anyways.  She’s sitting in her pink office chair, writing a paper and he’s on her bed reading for class.  Neither speaks but instead enjoys the serene safety that lingers in the air around them like a blanket.

He turns the page, she minimizes the document window.  A shift in weight, a light sleepy sigh.  She bites her lip in concentration, he shifts and moves his face to rest on his hand.  It’s the same boring…the same dull…the same comfortable routine that neither seems to deviate from out of fear.

If the routine changes, they change.  They change more then they want to, more then they have.  He wants to grow, she wants to hold on to things she still wishes they had.  Yet, neither can move forward without the other.  How? Because here they are, another school night spent together in silence.  Him on her bed, her in her chair.  Both lounging comfortably in the silence they created around them.  The bubble of serenity they refuse to burst with words.

It’s so quiet she imagines she can hear his heartbeat and the feeling of tears and heartache tug at her senses.  Everything about him, every breath, every heartbeat, every single quiet moment shared between the two sends an ache through her heart that it’s obvious will never heal.  His simple, silence presence makes her heart ache for sweet kisses, caresses…love.

I want you to love me, she begs quietly, her eyes lowered to gaze at her keyboard, back to him as he turns another page.  She lets her tears fall and welcomes the dull ache into her chest, letting it swallow her body completely.  She’s so deep into her feelings of loneliness she doesn’t even notice her body begin to tremble, sniffle, sob.  He looks up from his book.

“Why are you crying?” He breaks the silence, his voice incredulous and she snaps out of it.  The ache retreats from her fingertips, her toes, arms, legs, body and back into her heart where it throbs as a constant reminder of loneliness.  She chokes on her words and she hears him shift on the bed, standing and coming to her side.

“Why are you crying?” His voice is harsh, sharp around the edges and her body trembles out of fear.  He must already know he’s the reason because there’s no other reason for her to sob so violently and without abandon.  For the thought of the times when he was her everything, when she mattered…before she was irrelevant and cast aside like a rag doll.  She longed for him to pick her back up, to smooth out the aches and sew up the tears.

But here she was, sitting here with his breath in her ear demanding to know the reason for her tears.  Demanding to know why on earth she would even be crying.  Why she even had the right to cry at any moment whatsoever.

“Tell me,” he whispers as he rubs her shoulders…presses his body against her back.  His comforting warmth flows from his stomach into her body.  Every single thing about him was perfect.  If it wasn’t for the fact that he didn’t love her.  If it wasn’t for the annoying fact that he never would.  If it wasn’t…

Her heart ached again, deeply, throbbingly as he touched her shoulders, her back, her arms…her throat.  Body shaking beneath his fingertips with an ache that only he could fulfill.  He whispered her name and asked her again.

And She Still Wouldn’t Answer Him.

Vignettes: Ultimatum

You gave me an ultimatum. I did what you wanted.  Quit my job, changed to a different one.  I did absolutely everything you asked.  Then last night when we were laying in bed, you were holding me, kissing my forehead, caressing my cheek gently…telling me how beautiful I am.

I whispered so softly you almost didn’t hear it

“I love you”

and you laughed

“That’s cute.”

Flash Fiction: Cadence

My entire mouth tastes like coffee on the inside.  I haven’t had coffee in probably 3 months.  But every 8 minutes for 6 to 8 hours straight I have to brew coffee.  Over and over and over again.  I can do it in my sleep now.

1. Reset Timer
2. Scoop
3. Grind
4. Prepare
5. Brew

Repeat

                       repeat

                                          repeat

Vignette: “Friends”

I had a friend once who told me

“You’re a joke, your art sucks, your emotive writing makes me laugh.  Every single bad thing that happens to you…you deserve.  I’ve been a good friend for you for so long and…”

and it hurt, but I guess I deserved it because I wasn’t afraid to call her out
on the things she would’ve rather not been aired on her personal page
about how
she really isn’t a good person
or a good friend
because all she really is…
is this cheap, bitter, unreliable, irritating person
who has no place in my life
and her friendship is literally laughable
because she’s the same person, who told me

“There’s no such thing as bisexual.  You can’t be bisexual because it doesn’t exist.  You can’t be attracted to both men and women.  You’re dating a man, you’re straight.”

and the worst thing is, she’s homosexual
it made me feel like
no one would ever accept me
because I couldn’t help being attracted to both sexes
I thought there was something wrong with me…

I still do

Obi-Wan TBH: Obiwan likes applessaujce

Obiwan loves his family but somethingtesd they dob;’t know what to even thing.  somethimes terhere is a griafffew tith a crossbow and then some puchuoc people, but mostly he just loves the winswed.

pademas is very into like y’know not dying to shtey move sa lot amnd thet tinw sare mostly eokeay 3hyw iweht.

but everything is actually connected ot wyterbrt.

SDpm pnowam ,ales sire je mpws amd tjre are sp,e ;ole [[[e;e om [;aces turomg tp ,asler soitr erbeutjomg cp,ers tpyghjetrjer nity je dpesm

t wamt ot cp,e cp,er tjteot.  ;nrt/  jer eamts jods twoms top ne plau wotj eberutjomg/  rtjheu wremt nity je trioes. ,agic s w aerpod tjomg/.

tje emd/