Porch Swing

"Men have a way of choosing what everyone else wants them to do. They'd rather be miserable than happy." My words were dark and cold sending evident chills down his spine. There was nothing in this world he hated than the truth. He loved the petty games and being lied to. He grew comfort in feeling nauseous, and I grew comfort in losing what was never mine.

He sucked in a staggered breath knowing deep in his core what he wished was false was true. He hated to admit his faults, especially ones that grouped him in with other people, at least that's what he wanted other people to believe. He wanted everyone to believe he was independent, but in fact he was dependent on others approval. Surprisingly, his approval rating was always low, like a politician caught in a sex scandal.

"Resist the urge to take your anger out on every man." He walked across the porch sitting in a cheap bright red lawn chair with a built in cup holder. The last chair had broke and I couldn't afford a nice wooden chair. Most of my money went to paying the bills, and the rest went into taking care of Granny and her expensive hospital bills.

After Jack left me seven years ago, when he discovered all of his friends despised my sharp tongue and wit, I felt alone. The dark hole inside of me grows bigger and bigger as each day passes. I suppose not all of us are capable of letting go.

I swung slowly on the old porch swing Papa had made for Granny when he built the house in the middle of the field outside of town. This house was the only place I wasn't reminded of Jack and his cowardly ways.

Sometimes I felt as if Jack liked causing me pain. He did it so often it seemed to come natural to him. He was like a wave and I was the sand. I waited motionless for his presence and he would come back every so often, but just as quick he would leave me alone. He was selfish, he didn't care, not as much as he did about his reputation.

"I'm not. I'm just stating the facts." He was a very logical person why he didn't understand me was beyond comprehension, I thought I was speaking his native tongue.

"You can't believe every man is like that." He seemed baffled by my belief system. Maybe he hadn't realized his role in it, but I felt I was giving him an adequate amount of credit.

"Every man I've ever known is like that. They also are literal and hate admitting they have emotions." He chuckled at my remark. Although I didn't find humor in it, I was in a strange way glad he found a way to lighten the mood. "No man wants to admit they're in love."

"Why's that?" He entertained my thoughts by investigating. He knew the answer. He was apart of the solidification of my ideas.

"Because then they'd be surrounding their power."

Everything was quiet for a bleak moment. The wind was blowing fast causing the trees to rock back and fourth. The fall air was starting to become more bitter slowly transitioning to winter. This time of year always struck a cord inside of my heart as it reminded me of when I surrounded my power, of when I lost myself, of how I've stayed in the same place for seven years, of how it feels hopeless that I could ever return back to normal. I died alone at midnight wishing all the pain away. From that point on, I felt like a dead women walking.

Some say that heartbreak won't kill you, but I've proved them wrong. I died through a chain of heartbreaks. I became something I thought I could never be until my heart stopped beating. Lifeless.

"No rebuttal?" I questioned him as he was notably speechless from my words. He shook his head refusing to look me in the eye.

"You're such a coward." I mumbled. Tears began to form in his eyes as he looked in the opposite direction. "And I hate you for it." He stood up ready to leave my life again without a word. "No!" I stood up out of my chair refusing to let him get to not hear what I had to say any longer. "You've ran away from your emotions your entire life, but I'm not letting you run away from me. You tore down my walls and left me vulnerable only to walk away. You left me broken and alone. You cause destruction to everything you touch because you can't allow yourself to be happy. You can't fathom a life of not fitting into that cookie cutter mold and it's sick. It's sick that I thought you cared and it's sick I thought you actually loved me." Tears flooded my cheeks as pent up rage was finally able to escape.

"But even through all the pain and heartache you've given me, I couldn't be anymore grateful to have had you in my life. You saved my life. And even though you are the biggest piece of shit I've ever met, I'm now fortunate enough to know what it means to love. I don't know if I could ever love someone as much as I loved you, but I'm grateful to know at least what it feels like."

He left my porch and life forever. I never knew if he loved me, or what I ever meant to him. I lived the rest of my life alone, taking care of me. I was content. I was waiting for my next lifetime, my next chance to be with my love. He was the person who was meant for me, but his soul wasn't ready, he had more growing to do and so did I.

I learned that to be with the one you were meant with, you have to have reached a certain level of peace with yourself and life, before you get the ultimate reward. Along the way you slowly build pieces and discover the missing places in your soul. You become whole with yourself before you can become stronger with someone else. And that was our mistake.

So to explain it simply, it wasn't the right time, then again maybe it never will be.