She had felt fragile all day but never expected...
This.
It hurt.
Hurt bad.
Her wasted desire dripped off in hardened shards. A
chandelier, shedding its glittering components.
It had been raining and she had been shopping.
The bags, dumped inelegantly in the hallway, spilled
out their contents in higgledy-piggledy mounds. An egg’s orange yolk curled its
way along the channels between the encaustic tiles. The dogs thrust their noses
in, excitedly looking for enticing morsels and treats.
Her hair clung to her face in dark, wet straggles.
Some over her eyes, some sticking into her mouth. Her mouth, pouting in
disbelief, hung slightly open. She had nothing left to shut it. Nothing left to
say.
The crystal shards arrowed down and pinned her bare
feet to the bare floorboards.
The dogs played with her discarded muddy boots and
damp socks. She didn't notice. She didn't notice them joyously eating the raw
sausages either.
She couldn't move. The blades of emotion had rendered
her pinned to the spot. She hadn't chosen the spot. It was just where she had
stopped. Her fuel had run out and she just stopped. Dead.
Apart from the heavy, shallow breathing, forcing her
chest to heave. In and out. In and out. In and out, she felt dead. At least she
would have done if she could feel anything.
She couldn't feel a thing.
The pain was too big.
Too much.
She shut down while her outer shell carried on peeling away. Faster and faster and
faster with each glassy layer.
She felt bare.
She felt see-though.
She felt stupid.
How had she let herself get into this? Again. It was
never meant to happen. Again.
Never.
Despite her best laid plans it sneaked in through the
cracks. More mouse than man. The cracks of hope and want. The cracks that
wanted to open so badly she couldn't stop them.
Couldn't hold them closed.
Gradually it got in and took hold. Was it slowly? She didn't really know. She thought it could have been surprisingly swift.
Surprisingly
easy to give in.
To give herself up.
To want to try and hope and feel.
Now it wanted to get out. She wanted the red hot
poison to empty itself. Leach away. Or was it freezing cold? So cold it burned.
Burned into her soul. It didn't matter, it was dead either way.
Trashed and smashed.
Her heart had split right open. Exploded in one bitter
pivot of a moment. The moment that it probably wouldn't be able to come back
from. The dark surrounded her in its comforting embrace.
Smother
me.
Please.
Hold
me so tight I can’t breathe. Any more.
Make
this bloody pain stop.
The pain she never wanted to feel again but it had got
her. Hard and sharp and long and cold and hot.
Hot.
Hot.
Hot.
Nearly home, a bag for life in each straining hand,
she had looked up and seen them. Framed by a window and curtains like ones on a
theatre stage. The play had already started and she didn't want to be in the
audience but there she was. Rooted. Looking up. Obvious if only they had eyes
for anyone else, but they didn’t. He pushed her away. Held her at arms length.
His hands firmly planted on her narrow shoulders. He looked at her before
pulling her into him and they clung together.
She turned then. Quickly walked the half-block
remaining. Someone may have said
“Hello.”
She didn't take any notice. Like a drunk concentrating
on walking straight desperately trying to appear normal.
She felt like a volcano.
One about to erupt and expel angry red lava up and
out.
Up and out.
Bastards.
He hadn't given her anything. No reason. No
encouragement just comfort. No promises to be broken. No words to lie. No
nothing. Just her stupidity and her hope. Her damn, stupid, bloody annoying,
hope.
The fantasy had been broken. Revealed in all its
Disney glory. Hippos and elephants would probably dance around the trees lining
the road, where her house was. Just to take the piss. Tinkerbelle would flutter
about her head. Tutting and waggling her wand in her face before flying off.
Chuckling to herself.
She was down to bare bones. Her hope and heart
glittering at her feet like a pyre about to leap into flame.
Please
devour me.
Please.
The thought of having to face him, was intolerable.
Never again.
He’d call round. Lazily lean against her kitchen units
trying to drink organic Earl Grey, all he would touch, while it was too hot.
Far too hot. Just like him. Damnit. Stop it.
She knew he wasn't really. To most people he’d just be
ordinary. Boring. Maybe a bit of an arsehole. He was one of those people you
could forgive anything. She could anyway. Almost. Not this.
The betrayal that wasn't but felt like the worse kind.
She hadn't told him. Hadn't flirted. Even told him she wasn't interested. In anyone. God, she had emphasised that.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Non-threatening, she thought. Safe. A friend. A good
friend. Pals, mates and all that. She hadn't had even expected benefits. Occasionally
a random stray thought had flittered through her whole body and she wondered
where the hell it had come from while at the same time smiling and lingering
for just a brief, delicious second, before slamming the door back shut.
Trapping it in. Trapping them in. She didn't think things like that. She just didn't Wondered where they came from. Uninvited but still knock, knock,
knocking on her door.
She shivered. Suddenly she needed her coat, a jumper,
a blanket. She didn't really care. Just something warm around her.
It took ten long minutes to pull each long, jagged,
shard of ice out of her feet. One at a time until they were all slung away and
in the corner. Left to slowly melt away.
She started to move. She was stiff. From cold and
stillness. The ravaged shopping vaguely registered, as did the 6 guilty eyes.
It had been great fun but they knew they were wrong and in trouble. They didn't like it when she shouted at them. They loved her. Really, really loved her.
Always would.
She smiled at them, a tiny half smile, and croaked,
softly;
“My fault.”
She left the shopping. It was unimportant with its
defrosting and leaking and lack of hygiene. It didn't seem to matter.
Only the numbness mattered now but she needed to be
warmer.
They were all crouched in front of the fire when the
doorbell rang...and rang....and rang. Each time the insistent finger held the
press for longer and longer. She wanted to scream:
“JUST GO AWAY. I DON’T WANT ANYTHING YOU HAVE.” If it
was the meter man he would leave a card. If it was the postman she could pick
up, whatever was too big to be shoved through her letterbox, at some other
time. She didn't want anything or anyone just at this moment.
She heard the door creak open.
Shit
she hadn't locked it.
He filled the doorway with sunshine which soon turned
to showers when he saw her white face with black rivers trickling down her
cheeks. Her beautiful cheekbones.
“Christ. What’s wrong?”
He darted over to her, pushed two dogs out of the way
and landed heavily next to her.
“You ok?”
She nodded. She was, now he was back. Damnit. No.
Stop. Please stop.
“ You'll never guess what just happened to me,” he said
hoping to make her laugh. “Mimi just threw herself on to me and declared
everlasting love. I said “No...no...NO” and then she wouldn't stop crying. I'm soaked!” he beamed happily down at her, wishing she’d let him hold her. He
wanted to hold her, not Mimi, but he knew she was too hurt to let anyone else
in. Not for now anyway. He just held on and hoped and did what he could for
her.
“Hold me,” she thought. “Just sodding hold me,” but
she knew he wouldn't. Wasn't interested. Not in ‘that’ way anyway.
And so they waited.
Waited until the day one of them made a slight slip
and they both would realise that they had wasted time being scared. Lots of
time. Too much time...
