Touche

What a low blow, even for you.
So mad I could spit nails.
And I was so so so happy this morning.
How dare you, how DARE you step into the middle of that.
I suppose this means all's fair in love and war.  This is going to be a little of both.

I won't do anything "silly," darling.  But I won't forget this either, and if you are allowed to actively stop people from talking to me then I'm going to do the same.

Touche.

They say it's your birthday

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you...
I want to be there giving you a birthday kiss and your birthday spanks, even though I always lose that battle, since you're bigger then me.
No big presents this year, but you have my heart and I hope that's enough.
Let's make this year a good one.
<3

Star light, star bright...

I wish I was allowed to call you and tell you how sick I feel.  I want you to come stroke my forehead and tell me everything is going to be ok.  I want a bear hug and a glass of water and the true look of concern in your eyes. 
I wish you had called me, last night.  I would have woken up to come give you a hug.  Your hugs are always going to trump sleep for me.
Most of all, I wish I could be waking up in your arms right now.  I miss the mornings when you would bring me close and we could let the world melt away. 
I want to put that damn necklace on, turn my ring around, and belong to you again.  It doesn't feel right talking to other people.  I don't like it at all, but I feel like I have to.  Just tell me you want me to be yours again, and I'll tell the world they can't have me.
I'm getting back to myself.  I know what I'm worth and I know what I deserve.  And I deserve you; nothing more, nothing less.

Polistes exclamans

I like to be up close and personal with my victims.  Some killers like things clean and neat, a rifle through a window, a quick squeeze and away; not me.  I like to taste the blood and feel the organs crush.  There is something roughly spiritual about killing, taking a life force from another even as you see how tenacious your hold on mortality is.  
Today is much the same.  Different house number, scribbled on a paper as I sip my Starbucks and click my phone shut.  The other cafe patrons take no notice of me, just another young woman in yoga pants and a track jacket.  Smoothing my hair I stand and hold the door for a young mother who is flusterdly trying to balance a baby carrier and purse on one arm and a diaper bag on the other.  I return her gracious smile, wondering how much she will bleed if she is the one I got the call for today. 
After dark, I park my minivan across the street and count mailboxes.  One twenty-eight, one thirty, one thirty-four...two more blocks.  Two eighteen, two twenty, two twenty-two.  Target acquired. 
Two twenty-two has the curtains drawn on a pristine sitting room.  The back corner has what might be a study desk, and the silhouettes of bookcases line the right side of the room.  I know this house, it's just like every other cookie cutter construction on this side of the iron gates.  There will be impressive leather volumes on those shelves that still crinkle when they're opened, a neatly swept fireplace awaiting this years yule log; the rooms are currently being permeated with Maratha's fall collection candles.  Just like every other house, until tomorrow, when the neat lawn will be flooded with media personalities and the drapes will be drawn shut against the morbid curiosity of neighbors.  Two twenty-two. 
There is a car parked in the drive, and lights on in the connecting garage.  I look back at the paper, reading the instructions one last time.  Top floor, second room on the left.  Bed under the window.  I look in my mirror, smooth my brows and pat my nose with a tissue to remove excess powder.  Tucking my phone into my pocket, I slide out of the car and jog across the street.
Tap tap tap.  Pause.  Breath. The door swings in, revealing a polished woman wearing a cardigan and a yellow glove, clearly cleaning up the aftermath of dinner. 
"Can I help you?"
"I'm so sorry, I just didn't know where to go and your lights are on and it looked like such a nice house, and I'm really starting to freak out." 
I am gushing, and I can see my panic already wearing down her wariness. 
"What's wrong?"
"Well my car won't start and it's getting dark- I was supposed to pick up my son from band practice hours ago.  I called Triple A, of course, but the tow company hasn't shown up.  I'm getting really nervous and I don't like waiting in the dark, I know it's such a safe community but there has been a group of boys on skateboards past the car twice already.  Would you mind terribly if I used you bathroom and just waited in the light of your garage?  I'm so sorry to impose."  My apologetic air is pathetic, it makes my skin crawl but she is already opening the door further.  She can sense a fellow wasp in distress. 
"That sounds horrible, of course we won't make you wait in the garage.  I'm just cleaning up from supper, why don't you sit down with us for a while.  Would you like a glass of water?  Tea?  Juice?" 
"Oh, no thank you I couldn't impose.  Would you mind terribly if I used your bathroom?  I've been out there for the better part of two hours already." 
"Of course, it's right upstairs, first door on the right." 
I nod my thanks and climb the stair, being careful not to touch the polished white banister.  I wait until I can hear the water running in the kitchen again before flicking on the bathroom light, closing the door, and creeping across the hall.
Second door on the left.  I remove the long thin piece of steel from my sleeve, careful not to prick myself with it's needle tip.  Pushing open the door I brace myself.
There is a bed, under the window.  It's a crib.  Above it hangs a mobile, still playing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star In the tired sort of the way that tells me that it's been unwinding for a while now. I creep over, careful not to step on a plastic fisher price monkey or a set of stacking blocks strewn across the floor.
The baby is maybe a year old, clutching at a tattered blanket.  It snuffles and stretches an arm out before settling back into sleep.  Poor child, almost innocent.
I close my eyes and see the old image, hand around my throat, my head bouncing off walls; those beautiful eyes, beautiful eyes, beautiful eyes. 
Open my eyes and plunge the rod down.
It slides easily into the soft flesh, I feel the satisfying *pop* of a lung.  It recalls the childhood joy of bubble wrap in relatives Christmas presents.  These bones don't crunch so much as snap, so pliable still.  I linger over the left side, drawing out the pleasure before thrusting down again.  The child expires with my hand over it's mouth, blood covering the blanket still clutched in it's hand. 

For tonight, at least, I know I am alive.

Trust.

I trust you with my heart, now and always.  Maybe I shouldn't-but I do. 
You're worth a night alone, really. Someday, soon maybe, your arms will be around me again.
For now I'll just keep waiting for the next kiss on my forehead. 

I miss you tonight, as usual.  It wasn't that bad until I had a moment where I thought that just maybe you wanted to see me; it's a million times worse now. 
I just want to be cozy, it's so cold here.  I want someone to hold me tight.
Cliche life.

Maybe

Maybe this time, for the first time, maybe this time he'll stay.
Every single guy I have ever wanted or lusted after has left me for something else, something better.  When I met you, I thought this was different.  You looked at me not as a conciliation prize, but as the person that I am and I think you loved that.  I want to believe you did, anyway.
Now I'm alone again, three years later with nothing but mistrust and a scarred heart to show for it. 
I want to talk to you so badly.
I want you to miss me.  Please miss me.  I miss you so much, and I feel pathetic and unrequited. 
This is supposed to get easier, but every night something else hurts.  I can't let you go but I can't hold you close either.
So here I am, waiting for you to tell me the inevitable.  I'm not good enough.
It's gonna happen, happen sometime, maybe this time I'll win.

The house on Lutz street

Tonight the wind is creeping up the street and blowing in the eves.  Next to me, he twitches the corners of the blanket around my shoulders.  The old house has been abandoned for almost six months, though from the looks of the tattered throw in the corner we might not be the first to use it as a hideout.  The neighbors dog yips faintly from two miles down the road, other then this everything is still.
"I will always love you, Sarah."
"I love you too."
"Will you write often?"
"I'll write."
"It's only for a few months, then I'll be back for you.  Will you wait?"
"Mmmmmm.  Let's not talk anymore just now." 
His kiss is warm and sweet; he kisses the way he talks, with a beautiful simplicity.  He holds me and slowly I let myself fall into his body, resting my cheek on his chest as he strokes my hair and kisses the top of my head.  Outside the first drops are falling, soon there will be a downpour.
"Darcy?"
"Sarah?"  I finger the buttons on his shirt, undoing just one at a time.  His hand closes over my fingers and we are embracing in the blasts of lighting.  We are the tempest, and the tempest is us.

Later, he closes his eyes and I let my hand trail across his naked stomach, pausing as he flinches and pulls it into his own. 
"You're wonderful."  His breath is hot on my neck, his whisper sits heavily in the air pressing down on me.
"Darling."
"What?"
"Darling, Darcy, I can't.  I can't pretend that you're going to go away and in two, three, four months I'll still be here waiting.  I don't love you in that way.  When you leave tomorrow, this will end."
He is looking at me but his eyes are blank, translucent.  His face is frozen but I can see my words hitting his core.  He sways and his breath comes fast and shallow.
"Why Sarah?  I told you I will wait for you, I told you I'll be true.  Why?"
"I just need this, it seems right.  It's been fun, but darling I just don't think I can keep on.  You understand."
"No Sarah.  No.  You're wearing my old ring, my jacket.  You're not allowed to say no.  You're mine.  I bought this, when I gave you these things.  I have you now."
"Darcy, you're being ridiculous.  You can't possibly think I would be happy here, with this, forever." 
But his eyes aren't responding anymore, they have taken on the dull sheen of the dead. 
"You can't leave.  I'm not letting you leave." 
His hands are on my arms and I am against the wall;  something cracks and there is wet on my face and it's blood.  My blood.
"Darcy stop.  STOP.  What are you doing?  Think about this.  DARCY." 
A hand on my throat and I can't breath and he is not even looking at me, just staring at the wall beside my head.
After a few seconds he lets up, and I gasp.
"All right.  I'll stay.  I'm not going anywhere, I love you Darcy." 
He turns to me and puts one hand lovingly on the side of my head, the other carreases my chin.
"No, you won't stay.  Not now."
CRACK.


***
"It's the old Lutz house!"  The boy is poking through the fence with a knobbly stick, the girl besides him looks warily at the fallen in timber frame.
"It's gross looking."
"It's haunted."  She rolls her eyes and he nods with authority.
"I overheard my mom talking about it once to the neighbors.  The dude who lived there snapped his girlfriends neck."
"No way."
"No, totally."
"I don't believe that." 
"My mom doesn't lie, and that's not the worst part."
She glances at him sideways, anticipation and trepidation on her face. 
"The guy, he jumped through this hole in the floor, and there was this big pipe sticking up.  It went straight through his stomach, SQEACH." 
The boy makes a violent gesture with his hands, indicating carnage.  The girl shudders and looks back at the house.
"Is it still there?"
"The pipe?  Nope.  They had to cut it off cause it went through his stomach and his guts were stuck around it." 
The house looms in front of them, she looks up at the crumbles of the chimney.  She looks up at it, curiously.
"How come?  Why did he do it?"  He shrugs, unconcerned.
"Who cares?  I dare you to touch the front step." 
"No way.  There are probably ghosts in there who would get all angry.  YOU go do it."
"Nah, I gotta get home for dinner soon." 
They boy throws his stick and it soars through a long ago broken window pane.  They wander off down the lane together, talking and making up better details for the old legend.
Twilight is creeping over the house as the wind picks up.  Rain moving in.

One day at a time

I can't say all the things I want to right now, so I'll put them here instead.  I can't decide if I will actually publish this or not. 
Wed, Sept 14 2:46 am
I love you, sweet dreams darling.
11:03am
It's freezing outside, you would have laughed this morning at our reading in Theater.  It was all a big long "that's what she said."  Also lots of discussions about phallus.  Come snuggle with me?
12:41pm
I met the freshman who lives in your old room at the house a couple of days ago.  We laughed about the angry wall together.  Side-note:  Do you know the urban dictionary definition of "Spelunking?"  They might want to re-think the terminology. 
12:53pm
Boomer is creeping on me again. I've told him to stop, I've told him I don't consider myself really single right now, and he won't.  I just want to be protected, I am getting kind of freaked out about that situation.  Love you so much.
4:34pm
I'm sorry about the status, clearly I did not think it through.  I love that picture I put online last night of you on Peyton's car, I debated for half an hour whether or not I was allowed to put it up.  I decided that as long as I didn't tag you, it was ok.  My RA brought me a note today- I talked to her last night about maybe going to the counseling center.  She is far more impressed with my "strength" and "courage" then I am right now.  I really want to go to that dance party this weekend, simply because I miss dancing- but I'm afraid you will be so mad if you find out.  I don't want to make you mad or worried right now.  I lvoe you (You don't remember it, but you started saying that to me a little under three years ago.)
7:10pm
I'm not listening to them this time.  Little voices in my ear telling me "He's going to leave you, he doesn't mean it, you know how he will deal with things...."  Unlike the last time though, this time I'm not agreeing.  I'm telling them that no, you looked me in the eyes and I believe you.  You're a good person and we will get through this somehow (I hope.)  I love you, I don't doubt you but I wish I could look into your eyes again and know that I'm right.
7:30pm
Random thought, are you in Greek Sing?  I don't think I can go if you are.  It's too hard to see you and not be able to talk to you.
8:48pm
It's so hard not to talk to you.  I know you're talking to everyone I'm close with, and I'm trying to wrap my head around the fact that I just can't.  I hate this.  So far I have come up with roughly a bazillion excuses to just say hello, but I'm staying strong (so far.)  I just want to say goodnight.  I won't even use the "L" word.  I promise.
11:51pm
I miss you so so so so so so much.  I just want to tell you goodnight.  And also that I gave my one formal dress to a girl to wear for tri-delt pref night...I'm helping the freaking tri-delts (gross.) I want another kiss on the forehead, the one yesterday made me greedy for more.  I love you.  Sleep well.

(to be continued.) 

Resolution

This is good, this is right.  I'm not terrified anymore, I'm just going to be me.  I will still have my moments, I'm sure.  But for right now I am going to read and work and play hard.  I have so many wonderful people in my life, I have so many amazing things left in front of me. 
After all, I'm Scarlette and tomorrow is another day. 
(Cue exit music.)

Dear flattering freshman,
You made my day.  I may be far too old for you, but that you for reminding me that I am still fairly young and attractive and could have a life full of possibilities and intrigue.  I'm going to put on some heels and a summer dress and take on the town.  I'm not ready to look at other guys yet, but I don't think I mind when they look at me.

Sincerely,
Flattered and blushing

P.S. I've missed having auburn hair.  <3

Sleep deprivation

I need to stop hoping to see a message waiting from you when I wake up, it beings the day in utter disappointment. 
But.
Each day is getting a little bit easier. 
Each day I'm letting myself go back to who I was before.
Each day I'm learning that you're not the end all and be of of ME, and the world does not stop spinning without you.
I still love you, yes, but now I'm rebuilding some walls and starting to gather the pieces of my heart back from you. 
All this aside.  It is still taking every bit of strength to stay away from you.
I tell myself that maybe if I can just make it through this week, maybe this weekend things will get better.


I'm closer now, close to being my strong independent self again.  Today I will have some horrible moments of weakness, but I hope that they hit my while I'm surrounded by friends and pass soon.

Maybe next week I can write stories again.


Maybe this week I will go out for a play.


I am about to launch my next campaign against the bureaucratization at this school, with as much passion and gusto as ever.  Yes.


These are the things I wan to tell you, these and also


I love you.

Tonight, tonight.

It's finally hit me, I think.  (can't breath can't think can't sleep can't eat.) 
Mostly I can't keep seeing you and knowing I can't talk to you or laugh with you or love you.
I don't know how to not talk to you yet.  I can't believe that I can't just click on your name to tell you that I love you, or the idiotic things I did today, or how I get to start my new job tomorrow.  In my head you're rolling your eyes and laughing at me, I can remember how you used to look at me like I was the only woman in the world.
I wish I couldn't remember.
I can't bring myself to purge you from my life.  I can't delete the conversations, the photos, I can't knowingly wipe you out of my life. 
I would give anything to hear you tell me you want to be with me. 

I love you, hon, darling, lover, babe.  I love you and I want you in my life.  I hope I fit.

Afternoon

And now it just hurts.  And now I'm sobbing and blaming myself and thinking about all the things I will miss, and how it will feel the first time I see someone else on your arm.  Please don't do that to me, please. 
I still love you so much, I wish I didn't. 
Why did I let my walls come down? 
I'm building myself a castle with no doors and no windows and I'm never coming out.

Medea's Lament

You're the love of my life, after all.  I've been saying it for years now.  Perhaps tomorrow I will be upset.  Perhaps tomorrow I will be angry.  Perhaps tomorrow I will write a bloody scene or two.  Right now I just
AM.

I know more truths now, things that people were afraid to tell me before.  It helps, knowing I was not the only one who kept secrets.  The difference was I told you the truth, in the end.  But now I know.  Even so, through my moments of blind rage and self doubt, I still love you.  That doesn't change.  There is no switch to turn off my emotion.

I thought you were the Last One.  I thought you were my Rhett Butler.  You might still be, I suppose; in some sweepingly brilliant end of a romantic comedy where you realize that YES, I'm the one!  And YES, you can't live without me!  I don't expect that though.  I expect for you to look for solace and love in other places.  I expect you to believe that I am too broken to be fixed.  You don't fight for us, you never have- that's me. 

When you walked out the door I collapsed.  I will apologize to my neighbors tomorrow for my sobs and wild clatter and banging, the poor girls who don't know that my heart is breaking will think I've really gone insane.  Now though, I'm calm.  The man I fell in love with, I can't find him anymore.  I see hints now and then, little smiles bits of teasing.  But mostly you have fallen into a morose mean man that I have never met. 

I don't hate you.  I think you're handsome and intelligent and you will make a wonderful father someday.  I don't hate you but right now, I don't see you coming back to me.  

Please find yourself again.  Maybe, in finding yourself, you will find the love for me that you "lost" so long ago.  Maybe you won't.  Either way, I hope I will have done some good.  As much as I want to spend my life discovering the world with you, I can't spend my life living the way I have been for the last year.  I love you, but I love myself more.  I hope that before you try to make things work- with me or anyone else- you find the truth about what makes YOU truly happy.  Because I don't believe you know right now.

You told me you can't handle my dark and twisty side.  But darling, I was dark and twisty long before you came along.  Maybe more so when there are things to emphasize it, but there is something you don't understand.   I love me on all my dark and twisty days as much as I love me on my best days. I would never harm myself, because I believe that I am worth the fight; even when my mouth is forming the words that I'm not. 

Now, I have to pick myself up and this time there is no one else there telling me how wonderful I am.
  I'm hurt, so hurt.  This will take me years and probably countless dollars in therapists to comprehend.  But if I can do this, if I can move on by myself, I will be the girl I once was again. 
Maybe there is someone out there waiting for me, maybe he's hurting too and he feels just as desperate as I do. 

I know this: I live, love, fight with passion.  I will never give that up.  As long as I have passion, I am still meridith-tabitha-amphitriti.  I love you, with all of my heart, and I do hope you find yourself while there is still time for me to give myself to you. 

But if you don't, I hope you are happy. 

Once again, for old time's sake.

It's raining, and it's three in the morning, and I am awake alone in my dorm.  On some level you could say that some things never change.
But they have.
I'm happy.
I'm not writing men into bloody oblivion, I'm not crying myself to sleep after sneaking back across campus and down sets of stairs.
I just came from my boyfriend's room, my boyfriend of over two years.  He told me he loved me and he kissed me on the forehead and then I walked home through the rain.
I'm not the same girl anymore, longing to be out of the grey grey town.
Bring it, Meadville.