|
"I love you" she breathed softly into my ear. I rolled over to look at her, there in
the dimly lit room. She was barely visible, rolled into a cocoon of bedlinen. Her eyes opened
and searched my face for recognition, any sort of response. I knew what I wanted to say, but
delayed the inevitable. Resigned and cowardly, I rested my head against the soft stack of
pillows, and closed my eyes. I felt her move and slide out of the sheets. I knew she was hurt,
but my position didn't allow me to console her. I had betrayed her, I was just like the rest.
I was good with people, and I knew what they wanted to hear. I was forever being told how
sensitive I was. I could empathise with people. I loved to see people happy. There was just
one problem. Nothing lasts. In the beginning, my energy would bubble over in an attempt to please.
Every facial expression, every vocalised thought, all the cute little habitual behavior.
All of it was the fuel that kept me going. They thought I was intense and multi-faceted.
What they didn't know was that in the months that they knew me, I had given them everything.
Everything that was me, everything I knew, all of the dreams I had ever known, crammed into the
space of a few months. I was empty, and to stay would just be a disappointment. A drawn out
painful affair, where there were no winners. In the end, we would look at each other in disgust,
and forget about all the beauty that we shared and created at first. Nothing was a greater crime.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn't even notice she had crept back into bed. The early morning hours
were awful. Bright sharp light cut through my eyelids, tugging at my scattered consciousness.
The night before seemed like a mad dream, full of basslines, lasers and broken hearts.
My betrayal had been smoothed over by layers of defensive conditioning, and the previous
vulnerable form beside me, was no more. She looked at me through lenses that no longer allowed
any form of emotion to pass. It wasn't apathy, but more as if she were studying me, and
giving her psyche time to rationalise and/or categorise my behavior. All I could think of was
my parched throat and the dried layer of sweat, dust and cigarette smoke compliments of last
nights establishment. Giving her a quick glance, I wobbled out of bed and headed straight for
the shower. The scalding jet massaged my battered body as the grime and grief of the night was
slowly engulfed by the slurping drain below my feet. Every time, it gave me the feeling of
re-birth. I was wet, crimson, ready to cry and butt naked. When I escaped the suffocating fogs
of the bathroom, she had left. I flopped across the bed and almost reached for the phone. It was
my conscience stepping in, as it always did. What was the point, we had nothing to say to each
other. She said she was in love. She was in love with someone I could never be, for any greater
length of time. I felt bad, and guilt was throbbing in my heart with slow persistence. But then
a new emotion rivalled. From beneath the non-productive pathetic ebbs of self-pity, it came.
Surges of excitement and freedom. We had made it. We had given each other our very best, our all.
Nothing had been spoilt. All our happiness and love was unsullied by time and its associated
evils. I pictured her beautiful face. I felt her wonderful and comforting embrace hold me tight.
"I love you", I whispered into the sheets.
|
Illusions, dreams, love and the self.
|
"I love you" she breathed softly into my ear. I rolled over to look at her, there in
the dimly lit room. She was barely visible, rolled into a cocoon of bedlinen. Her eyes opened
and searched my face for recognition, any sort of response. I knew what I wanted to say, but
delayed the inevitable. Resigned and cowardly, I rested my head against the soft stack of
pillows, and closed my eyes. I felt her move and slide out of the sheets. I knew she was hurt,
but my position didn't allow me to console her. I had betrayed her, I was just like the rest.
I was good with people, and I knew what they wanted to hear. I was forever being told how
sensitive I was. I could empathise with people. I loved to see people happy. There was just
one problem. Nothing lasts. In the beginning, my energy would bubble over in an attempt to please.
Every facial expression, every vocalised thought, all the cute little habitual behavior.
All of it was the fuel that kept me going. They thought I was intense and multi-faceted.
What they didn't know was that in the months that they knew me, I had given them everything.
Everything that was me, everything I knew, all of the dreams I had ever known, crammed into the
space of a few months. I was empty, and to stay would just be a disappointment. A drawn out
painful affair, where there were no winners. In the end, we would look at each other in disgust,
and forget about all the beauty that we shared and created at first. Nothing was a greater crime.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn't even notice she had crept back into bed. The early morning hours
were awful. Bright sharp light cut through my eyelids, tugging at my scattered consciousness.
The night before seemed like a mad dream, full of basslines, lasers and broken hearts.
My betrayal had been smoothed over by layers of defensive conditioning, and the previous
vulnerable form beside me, was no more. She looked at me through lenses that no longer allowed
any form of emotion to pass. It wasn't apathy, but more as if she were studying me, and
giving her psyche time to rationalise and/or categorise my behavior. All I could think of was
my parched throat and the dried layer of sweat, dust and cigarette smoke compliments of last
nights establishment. Giving her a quick glance, I wobbled out of bed and headed straight for
the shower. The scalding jet massaged my battered body as the grime and grief of the night was
slowly engulfed by the slurping drain below my feet. Every time, it gave me the feeling of
re-birth. I was wet, crimson, ready to cry and butt naked. When I escaped the suffocating fogs
of the bathroom, she had left. I flopped across the bed and almost reached for the phone. It was
my conscience stepping in, as it always did. What was the point, we had nothing to say to each
other. She said she was in love. She was in love with someone I could never be, for any greater
length of time. I felt bad, and guilt was throbbing in my heart with slow persistence. But then
a new emotion rivalled. From beneath the non-productive pathetic ebbs of self-pity, it came.
Surges of excitement and freedom. We had made it. We had given each other our very best, our all.
Nothing had been spoilt. All our happiness and love was unsullied by time and its associated
evils. I pictured her beautiful face. I felt her wonderful and comforting embrace hold me tight.
"I love you", I whispered into the sheets.
|