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I screamed in rage and anguish, beating my fists and head against the
steering wheel, more tears than I ever knew were contained within me now
cascading down the swollen cliffs of my face. I could have torn my
hair out, butI beat that wheel with all my force, screaming his name, vomiting
my soul with such violence, I should have imploded.
In two weeks he would graduate the army school and be gone from my life. I shared everything, gave everything, and wanted to treasure every last moment of my time with him. I thought he might be The One. Daniel looked like Mel Gibson, and he knew it, was slightly embarrassed by it. Together we explored Indiannapolis, we whispered our fears and dreams. We healed each other's old wounds. Or I thought we had. He still had one wound that would not give up its ache. He pushed me away before he would have to give me up. He cut me off before the "L" word could arise. He broke it off, and broke me in two. He secluded himself in his room, when I could not even gain entry to his building. He left me outside to wither and die. I did not die. I wanted to, though. Wanna know what's odd? I see his face before me, I hear his voice, but i don't remember his last name anymore. I remember the sex, the feel of his skin, but I don't recall the adventures we shared. I remember the night I almost said the "L" word, or rather the feel of it, but not the events. His body was sitting next to mine, but his heart was far, far away. None of these, though, do I remember as sharply as that terrible shower of blows I delivered upon my poor car, and the sensation of my feelings clawing my insides out. The cracks in the steering wheel didn't devalue the car too much, come time to sell it. That was eight years ago. |