Category Archives: Prose

It’s funny how

The love of your life is just the love of your life until you don’t love them anymore.

Then suddenly they’re just a closed chapter in a book of the grand scheme of things. A phase, mistake even, then a memory.

Then one day, they’re nothing at all.

She saw it while it was still a mile away.

A mile, and a kiss, and maybe one ‘I love you’ too many. 

Yet, it seemed to come upon her so suddenly, without warning, without warrant. It hit her in the chest like a solid blow that left her breathless. Her knees buckled from the impact, but as soon as she hit the ground, she knew once she rose again she’d feel nothing but the dull sting that lingered from her fall. 

She didn’t know the man but the moment was all too familiar.

Body heat and sweat and passion that feels a lot like love. But she never mistakes some temporary rapture for the real thing.

Once, she felt it. Undeniable and all consuming, like a black hole she tripped and fell into. Sometimes, in the seconds between sleep and wakefulness, she thinks she’s still falling.

813: They fucked.

Because she wasn’t a cutter.

And yet with every caress a new scar appeared. Deep and ugly slashes, across her soul where they remained unseen.

But then once in a while, what was on the inside seeped out, and the whole world saw her bleeding.

There was no rehab for it.

Though there ought to have been. 

Everyday she withdrew, and at night especially, as she lay alone with nothing but memories of the last time. Even summers were cold, and the pain was almost physical, and if she could just have a little bit more just to hold her over…

Once in a while she relapsed but it always only left her wishing she hadn’t, and wanting to again, and searching in all the wrong places for the feeling she’d gotten that very first time. 

“I kept seeing stars, especially when I closed my eyes. So I kept them shut.”

The statement was essentially meaningless, but she can still hear him speak the words so clearly in her mind because in the same second they left his tongue, he reached for her hand.

It happened so casually, as if he’d done it a million and one times before, and they kept walking, fingers entwined, and he kept talking but she had no idea what he said because her insides were exploding and the only thing she could hear from that moment on was the deafening sound of her own silent screams.

She watched them.

And she smoked and smoked.

He draped his arm around her, she rested her head on his shoulder. He said something and she laughed. She lifted her face to his, he kissed her mouth. 

And all she could do was watch them, while she smoked and smoked. 

She was falling.

Again.

Easy and fast, into infinity maybe. Her eyes were closed, her arms were outstretched, she didn’t even need to breathe. In fact, it sort of felt like flying.

Only she had no control. She couldn’t stop, or even slow down, and there was always that chance that she would hit the ground and everything would break.

Again.

At last, she discovered the secret to happiness.

There it was, all along. The unrelenting darkness had been smothering all of the light. She would never see what was right in front of her unless she lit the candle.

So she did. And almost like magic, the flowers seemed to open wider and the sun shone brighter and the rain clouds that threatened the placid sky dispersed.

And then he rubs her back.

Right after sex, she lies with her eyes closed, hypnotized by the sensation of his hands moving up her spine and down again.

They fight, then they love, then they fuck and they fuck, and afterward he placates her to her soul with the soft stroke of his fingertips on her skin. Something like the sky clearing and the sun showing itself after a fierce and beautiful storm.