a n i m a

halcyon

dedicated to this lovely gal up there because she is so freaking nice and lovely and i love her xo

"love, we go down, we go down
breathe, it's over now, over now
we can love, we can love."               

✄✄✄✄✄

                It had been four years since I met Derrick. And exactly three since I had seen him smile.

                We met through friends. He was a friend of my sister’s roommate and came over when I happened to be visiting my sister. And when he walked in, my sister and I lying on the carpet with thousands of pictures laid out before us, laughing at the pictures of our mom and smiling at the pictures of our father, he gave me this smile. It was just a smile—a simple tug of the lips and raised cheeks—but there was something about this simple smile. It knew everything.

                That night we decided on Chinese takeout and Derrick asked me to go with him to pick it up, on a night when the ovens just so happened to be messing up and our order just so happened to be done a whole hour later. But as the hour came to a close, and the old man behind the counter ran towards us with grease-soaked bags and an apologetic smile, I was happy those ‘just so happen’s had taken place.

                He made me laugh. Our entire time spent in those torn booths I filled the restaurant with my cackling. He had this way of telling stories that enthralled me; like he could go back to that exact time and pull all of the images, just to give them to me through his words. And as we walked out, him opening my door even though he had hands full of Chinese food, I had this feeling that perfectly matched the smile he gave me when we first locked eyes: I knew we’d fall helplessly in love.

                Our first date was a carnival, which I told him was the most cliché thing I’d ever heard of, which then led to him doing a complete U-turn in the middle of the street and speeding off into the night. We ended up at the water tower, a six-pack between us and the universe before us. We ate our burgers and fries and talked about everything and nothing, all at once.

                We shared our dreams and goals; hardships and past relationships. I told him about the day my father died so long ago and he told me how his mother was in prison. We understood each other, through similar heartache and dreams. We understood each other’s losses and wants. Even though he had no idea why anyone would want to go to Alaska and freeze to death or get attacked by a bear, he understood that I wanted to get away—to see the world.

                I shared everything with him, and within two months, I had given him everything.

                It wasn’t until we had moved in together that I started noticing his flaws. Not the little ones. I could deal with him chomping his food too loud and never putting the dishes away. But the bigger ones. How he drank more than I thought and how some nights, he didn’t come home at all. I worried and got angry, but I loved him more than I thought possible, so I got over it and I forgave him.

                I told myself that things would get better. He told me things would get better. He’d hold me to his chest and tell me he was sorry and he’d bring me home flowers and tell me I was beautiful. He found ways to make up for it—to show me he cared. And I believed him.

                But my faith in him all but shattered the day he first hit me. We had been living together almost a year and things had gotten worse and worse with his mom. He drank more and when I came home from work I’d usually find him passed out in a pile of puke. I told him constantly that I was there for him; that I would do anything I could to help him deal with the fact that his mother was an addict. But he kept pushing me farther and farther away, disappearing for days and leaving me crying out prayers that he was okay.