Leaving You

Brock called Veronica for the eighteenth time. If she doesn’t pick up, I swear I’ll kill her. She’s overreacting.

“Brock, stop calling me. I told you, it’s over.”

“No, it’s not. You said that last time, and the time before that. You know you love me V.”

Quietly sobbing, Veronica whispered, “I can’t do it anymore Brock.”

“Why not?”

“Come over, and I’ll tell you.”

Smiling with an aura of victory, Brock said in a polite tone, “Right away, princess.”

Smiling sadly, Veronica hung up, and thought of a way to tell him it was really over, a way to avoid the inevitable, a way not to ache with longing for the jerk who had come to be her everything.

Her dad walked in, watched her cry silently, and walked over to the couch. “What is it now, Veronica?”

“You wouldn’t get it dad. Just forget it.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Is it your mother?”

Biting her lip in denial, she said “Yeah”

“I’m sorry V. There’s nothing we can do about it now, except learn from her mistakes.”

Offended, Veronica snapped her head up and said with a fire in her eyes “It’s not a mistake. It was a mental disorder dad.”

“Whatever,” he replied dismissively, “mental disorder is just a cop out for people. She got obsessed with tabloids, paid too much attention to unrealistic models, to beauty that she forgot about everyone else. She died for no reason, Veronica, and I refuse to give her excuses such as ‘mental disorder’ or ‘struggling.’ It is never excusable to leave your family. “

Shaking with anger, Veronica opened her mouth to respond when the door bell cut her off. She jumped up gratefully, and stormed to the door.

“Brock,” she said breathlessly. He looked as handsome as the first time she saw him. He hugged her and whispered into her hair “Please, please, please forgive me. I love you, V. and I promise this is the last time.”

She pulled back from the hug, and gestured to the bench on her porch.

“Let’s talk.”

“Oh you know how I love our little talks,” Brock replied, grinning, quoting their song, loving the tension between them, yet hating the distance.

Smiling slightly, she sat down next to him. “Look Brock—“

“I know exactly what you are going to say. ‘I can’t do this anymore, you always hurt me, and I have to cover it up.’ I’m telling you Veronica, I promise I’ll never touch you again.”

“I know you won’t. Because it’s over.”

“Why? Veronica, we are the It couple. No one can touch us. I’m not going to ruin that with just one hit made in anger.”

“One hit? One? This is the 10th time you’ve hit me Brock! Do you really think we can just continue to date? That I’ll keep forgiving, relenting, loving, hurting, all for you? I can’t do it Brock! No one can. I want this to end.”

“No, you don’t! You love me. I know you do. We are best friends, despite our little fights. Please—“

“Off, Brock.” She coldly ripped her hands away and walked to her door.

“You’ll regret this Veronica. You’ll wish you had me back tomorrow.”

She slowly turned around, and lifted her head.

“No, I think the only think I’ll regret is that I stayed with you this long.”

Advertisements

The Isolated Castle

“Let go Mike.”

“You can’t do this, Lauren!”

Defiantly, she ripped away her hand and with it her gentle tone. “I said let go, Mike. I need to go.”

“Please. Please don’t leave me again. I need an anchor, someone to hold me down, keep me stable. I need you.” Reaching out for her, the isolated island she had become, he gently caressed her wrist.

She pulled her wrist back. “You don’t need me. You need to stay the hell away from me. I’m not going to stay here waiting for the pain and loneliness that is the inevitable companion of love.”

“No, Lauren. I’m not going to leave you! You are the one pulling away from me. I keep reaching for you and I can see the flicker of desire in your eyes if for only a moment. But then the flood of memories of the past is projected onto me. I’m constantly competing with the guys who hurt you. I’m here and now and real and I love you Lauren.”

“Lies.” She whispered, but even as the words floated from her throat she stopped believing it. She leaned into him, crying softly, and he wrapped his arms around her as he sighed in relief. “I’m sorry they hurt, left, and broke you Lauren. But I’m determined not to. Let me in. Let me love you.”

And in that moment, the moat that kept out his love was destroyed, and the castle was taken over with a flood of love.

Please, Please, Wait.

Once upon a time a boy loved a girl,

He thought she owned the whole world,

So he listened to every word she said,

And slowly, but surely, he climbed into her bed.

The ache of her absence is more than he can bare,

When she said goodbye all he could do is stare.

With her she took the biggest piece of him,

He talks in his sleep, crying out for Kim.

Wondering if everyone is walking around as a half,

Or if his message will cause them to laugh.

He came as a bird and sang me a song, his word:

Don’t lay with them unless they have earned and deserved

A title, a label, a stereotype, a promise, a love, sometimes a strife

The loving, committed name: Wife.

Autobiography.

Once upon a time, there was a girl who loved herself. She hated herself, but wanted others to love her; however, the pride of loving/hating herself was the same as loving herself. She constantly thought of fantasies of ways people could show how great she was: kissing her, asking her on dates, praising her for style or grace or smarts, anything one could think of, she had imaginied getting praise for it. She was traveling down the path of life, joined by many others. It was a wide path, so many people joined her on it. When she met such people, she fell in love with how they could love her, not really them. She critisized and analyzed people, always either good or bad, worthy or not, loved or unloved. These people eventually would leave her for a much narrower path. She felt betrayed and hurt and alone and worthless when this happened. She quit stopping to eat along this path, she quit talking to people, she closed inwards. She shut herself off from love. There was a fairy who often flew alongside her on this path, even when she didn’t want her there. The fairy was kind and thoughtful, with impossibly curly blonde hair. The fairy annoyed the selfish, black-hearted woman, however, and she often shooed her away. When she didn’t shoo the fairy away, she complained to the fairy. She complained that everyone always left her, that her path was difficult, that she was unloved. The fairy always comforted her. One day, the fairy stopped coming to her. She also flew down the narrow path. Naturally, the young woman felt utterly betrayed by this fairy. She had always wanted that fairy to be there for her, to listen, to convince her to eat, to bug her, to love her. Crying and sobbing and outright pouting, the girl howled until the fairy flew over from the other path to ask whatever was the matter. The girl spouted off lines of selfishness, saying no one cared for her. The fairy looked hurt and angered, so much so that the girl stopped her crying and just looked at the fairy. The fairy pursed her usually smiling lips and said in a devastated tone a soliloquy that would make a giant cry:

I held your hand after every fall,

I kissed you after the weep and bawl

I presented you with a kiss,

Only getting a hit and a miss

Slowly I came to realize, that I

Have more to do than dry your ever wet eyes

I’ll always love you, can’t you see?

It was you who never truly loved me.

The girl was speechless and started to see every blind and selfish act she ever made to the beautiful fairy. The fairy smiled, patted her arm, but she flew away to her new friends, her true ones. The girl was jealous of the new friends, but in time she came to see that she could never again be with that beautiful fairy.

Rewrite Me.

I don’t know how to love. I’m not quite sure why my heart is repulsive Why I’m repulsive. Why I find myself utterly ugly, utterly dumb. I just want a new heart. Oh Lord, restore me. Scratch that, rewrite me. Transform my heart. Teach me to love like I’ve never hurt, teach me to be in love with you and your creation. Teach me to forgive, to cease judgement, to fall headlong over the cliff of faith. I pray and I pray for the transformation of my soul.

Hopelessly Out Of Love With You

He kissed her softly. The question of the kiss hung in the air for a short time. For a long time. Until finally she looked down and cried. She sobbed her answer over and over, apologizing for the inconvenience of her sadness.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

With a big sniff, a wipe of the eyes, and a straigtening of the back, she stepped back from his embrace and said with a straight expression: “I just really wanted my happy ending. I wanted a love saga that never ends,” snot came out of her nose, she wiped it away, disgusted with herself, “but the truth is that you aren’t it. I can’t find my happiness in you. You are so superficial. I can’t be honest with you, I can’t ask you stupid questions, I can barely cry in front of you. The truth of the matter is that you may be prince charming, but I’m not your princess.”

The same moment she wiped the snot from her face, he realized he loved her.

At the same moment he realized this, she realized she didn’t even love herself.

Second Guessing

You’re such a great guy, really, it’s true.

Holding all the doors, and holding my hand too

Scooting closer as the room gets dark,

Slipping your arm around me, my heart singing like a lark.

Or is it truly singing? Am I really all that happy?

My mind feels fine, none of my thoughts are sappy.

My focus never drifts to you, not really, I think of me,

Of me sitting, not with you, but alone.

It’s not so bad, none too sad, being ice cream without a cone

I guess I always loved you, not you in particular, but the thought

I’m not in school, but this is definitely a lesson I’m being taught

You can’t force love. Maybe you can make them like you

But, I’m telling you, no really, don’t try, it’s true

Never can you make yourself, your heart, your mind,

Fall for someone just because they seem to be your kind.

“Just because she loves the same bizarro crap you do, doesn’t mean she’s your soul mate”

Sleeping Beauty

“From this slumber

She shall wake

When true love’s kiss,

The spell shall break.”

I used to deeply hate Sleeping Beauty. I mean, come on? A spinning wheel and you just have to put your finger on it? Sleeping for a hundred years, waiting for a boy to come save you, the kingdom, and pretty much your entire life, from deep deep sleep. But now I am recognizing that maybe this is a metaphor. I, a frequent user and intimate lover of metaphors, think that we are all asleep. One day we get that kiss, or fall in love, or have that adventure, or are saved from sin, and our lives are started. The spell is broken. Our true life starts, our true love story begins.

My Missing Piece

I’m not quite sure when it was that I discovered this, or if I am just spouting off, but I have fallen in love with the idea of love. But, as they say, love is blind. I forgot that I can’t love just anyone, and no one will fall in love with me. I need to make a choice: either be aggressive and risk rejection, or be complacent and wait, wait, wait for something, anything, or anyone. Neither of these is particularly appealing. I seem to be missing something I never had, and I find that odd and wonderful and tragic. Of the two options, I suppose I will be aggressive because I’m not the girl to sit and wait. I give myself a month to make this work. If it does, that’s great, I get a boyfriend and best friend hopefully. If it doesn’t, I’m no worse than before.