I slide into my new life, ever the chameleon. No one questions the change. Work is happy, the client is happy, I paste on the affect of happy. I have a smaller office, with a better view. And I live each day convincing myself I am fine.
I've taken a leap, run toward the edge of a cliff without a safety net. I unhooked the wires when I told him goodbye and now that they are gone I see just how reliant I had become. Without his buoyant approach to everything my life was flat, without his easy direction I had no plans. I was gray and muted without the color he had lent me.
He'd given me so much and I had taken. At every turn I had used him, drained him of his goodness and never repaid him. I've done the same to you haven't I?
I saw you last night on the news. You were going to a charity event. Seattle is a small city and you are an interesting, wealthy and beautiful man. It makes sense you would be a story. I heard your name while I was brushing my teeth and ran to the television. Your smile took my breath away.
You stood so tall, so confident and I felt weak. Your black suit set off the olive undertones of your skin. My stomach twisted in a knot as your dark eyes penetrated the screen straight through me. The oxygen left the room and I'd swear my skin burst into flames, but instead I stood, pain wrenching through me, alone.
The camera panned and you held out your arm with a smile so bright it blinded me. I watched as a woman stepped into your open embrace, fitting snugly against your side. The air buzzed, a swarm of bees stung every inch of my skin until the poison charged my heart. Adrenalin and death clenched down on me and the screaming in my mind made it impossible to hear the television. But your lips were moving. They were plump and perfect and you licked them when you looked down shyly, the woman on your arm laughing with open joy.
You've done it. You've gone and done what I've been telling you to do all along. You found someone else, someone worthy of you. Someone who brought that smile to your lips—that light to your eyes. I was slumped on the floor, shock wracking my body, my own poisonous lies killing me.
You don't owe me anything and I should be happy. Glad you've found a place in the world for yourself. Maybe now you'll get married and have kids. Live the fairytale you so deserve. But instead, I felt as if I had died. Not an ethereal poetic death but something real and tangible lay at the bottom of my gut, lying in its own vomit and waste, rotting me from within.
I sat, decomposing, as I watched her. She was tall and thin, like a model. She had long straight black hair and tan skin. She must have been Native American or Latina or something. A perfect compliment to your strong features. I hated her.
I cried last night.
It was the first time I'd cried in weeks.
This morning I woke up and told myself to let you go. Tying you to me was cruel and you had moved on. I vowed not to text you or call you. But now, it's 6:30 on a Thursday night and I'm sitting in the bar you'd brought me to so many months earlier, praying you'll walk in.
Your jacket will cling to your broad shoulders and your shirt will be open two or three buttons down. More than most men, but not too much. Just enough to show the beginnings of the hard chest beneath.
You'll beam when you see me, the sky will open up and your goodness will rain down on me and wash away all of my sins. We'll meet in the darkness and you'll kiss me, reviving me, bringing me to life.
But you don't show and I'm three drinks in. I should go home, but I don't want to be alone. I don't want to cry in the shower or feel the clawing agony of loving you. I order another drink and close my eyes.
"Hey," someone says sitting next to me. The light is dim and the room is beginning to spin. His voice is low.
"Hey."
"What's your name?"
I smile because I almost tell him it's Tina. But the last remnants of Tina were killed when I saw you with her, the last parts of me that were yours were snuffed out by the smile on your lips.
"EKrisaTina. You can call me Kris. What's yours?" I lean in, letting the metal edge of the bar hold my weight. I shouldn't be talking to him, encouraging him, but all I feel is pain and I just want it to go away. The slow throbbing of my heart is dulled when he speaks, and tonight, that's good enough.
"I'm Alek."
"Hi Alek."
"You want another drink?" he glanced at my Cosmo, half gone, with a smirk.
"Sure Alek, I'd love another drink."
"Excellent."
I let myself drift in and out of time, flirting with my own destruction in the form of another man who has no idea of the chaos I leave in my wake. Alek is tall and thin. His hair is dark and he wears it a little too long, just enough to make me want to run my fingers through it. Inside the warm cocoon of the bar his eyes blacken as he watches me take a sip of my drink.
The exhilaration of being wanted rises within me and I lean toward him, my hand resting on his upper thigh, my lips searching for a truth I know I'll never find.
He pulls away from me.
"You wanna go somewhere?"
"Yeah, okay."
He takes my hand and helps me stand. I teeter on the heels I wore, the black ones with the straps that you love. You loved to fuck me in nothing but these shoes. I wonder what Alek will taste like. His jacket smells like cigarettes and I can't remember if we talked about what he did for a living or if he loved dark chocolate. Like you.
His arm steadies me until I can walk without help. I struggle to maintain control over my body. He might change his mind if he thinks I'm too drunk to make a decision. He probably won't. Most men don't care. But I don't want him to have an excuse to feel badly about using me. I want to be used, I long to be small and insignificant.
Outside we stand under the awning where you kissed me.
He isn't as tall as I'd thought. Maybe it's the shoes. Standing outside, I tilt my head up to him but my arms lay on his shoulders easily. I used to love stretching up to your kiss, the strength of you enveloping and consuming me.
The rain falls beyond the perimeter of the entrance way and he smiles, pulling away from me.
"You are beautiful."
I blush and look away.
"Let's go."
He takes my hand and pulls me into the rain.
It washes over me. Layers of self-hate and guilt stream down into the gutters, leaving me cold.
"Kris?"
"I can't."
Silence
"I'm sorry. I just can't do this."
"I thought - "
"I know, but... I'm sorry."
I turn and run, letting the heels you loved take me home.
