Castles in the Sand (Stephen Colbert)

Chapter 14

I wasn't a very open person even in the earliest days I can remember. I lacked a lot of the skills that are the foundational building blocks for healthy relationships, platonic or romantic. There was something different that seemed to separate me from others; it was like being surrounded by a barrier that allowed me near them, but never in a meaningful way. I was an oddity meant for ridicule rather than someone to be embraced. Even so, I did the best I could.

To begin with I at least had some hope, and optimism, and trust to give; all eroded to nothing. People lied to me, they told me they understood, and that the way I was didn't bother them. They always made themselves out to be the ones who would be different, the ones who would stay, but they never were. I wanted to be better, I wanted to keep them around, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't change the way I was. Those people with their false promises would become frustrated, some more quickly than others, but they all gave up eventually. I think the worst part was being aware that it was happening even when they weren't. Helpless to change anything, I was forced to watch those relationships slip away with the knowledge that it was my fault. I would end up alone, each time a little more walled off from the world.

Then I placed my trust in a man; the last straw.

I was in a romantic relationship with him for many years, my first. His promises meant more than any I'd heard before. I didn't realize what was happening at first. My isolation was a weakness that he effectively exploited. The way he talked to me began to change; he was belittling, judgemental. I was often humiliated by him in public because I'd done something wrong, but he said he would help me, that he would make me better, so I needed him. He wanted things from me, certain liberties within the relationship. It wasn't okay, it didn't feel okay to me, but whenever I brought it up he told me I should be comfortable because he cared about me. After a while I thought he must be right, I was being ungrateful. What I felt didn't matter, it was all in my head and nothing was wrong.

He loved me.

When we fought, his words would twist and turn in ways that made it impossible for me to please him. I would wake up each day, heart pounding with panic. Waiting, waiting, waiting. I could not tiptoe across those eggshells lightly enough. There was always something I did that would make him hate me. I couldn't do anything right. He would yell and accuse, blame and berate; he was jealous and mistrustful. He hated me so much, but I convinced myself it was only in that moment, that it would pass, and it did. There was always tomorrow, it would be better tomorrow.

We drank together, and we would drink too much until bickering became an argument; the worst of us on display. Old wounds, bitter and unresolved, were torn open and the salt rubbed deep. His voice was so loud. Grinding, stamping, forcing me into the dirt where I belonged. His vile words were punctuated with frightening displays of physical aggression. Holes in doors and walls were constantly patched. Even our fridge, dented with deep fist marks was an ever-present reminder of my faults and failures. There was a tiny part of me that knew this should be over, but I was weak, I couldn't end it. Blind, stubborn commitment to a festering relationship of unhealthy co-dependence, fear and abuse.

But it would be better tomorrow.

I knew he loved me, even as I endured the sting of his hand landing, open-palmed, across my face for the first time.

Even when palm became fists, and fists became feet.

I was finally home then because that's where dirt belongs; under foot, walked on and kicked until it's scattered beyond all hope of redemption.

He loved me, but then he left like all the others, another promise unfulfilled. It was my fault, I was a burden to be around and I'd changed him for the worse, I knew that. He was too good for me, he said he'd tried so hard but I was holding him back, it had been a mistake to stay. I just hadn't done enough to be a better person for him, to twist and mangle and contort myself into the broken husk he wanted me to be. But I was broken. A mistake. Alone with my scars, and my bruises, and emotional torment. Memories like circling sharks that constantly threatened to surface. He'd left me like all the others, only not.

*****

I watched Stephen dig tirelessly, without knowing how deep I was buried or the damage I might do when he found me. When, because nothing I did was driving him away. But I knew better, the truth of what he'd find was filled with disappointment and regret. He would leave anyway, so best he leave now. I eyed him distrustfully.

"I.. I have to be at work tomorrow so, I should get ready. It's probably late, right?"

He seemed crestfallen by my response and my heart ached, I looked away as he checked his watch.

"It is," he replied softly.

This time when he stood I knew it was to leave, and that was okay. I stood too, still huddled in the blanket. He wrapped his arms around my cocoon of warmth and kissed my forehead. He wanted me to say more, I could sense him lingering but I remained quiet and he finally let me go with a disappointed half smile.

He opened the door and crossed the threshold into the hall outside, but before closing it he paused then turned to look at me. The indecisive expression he was wearing quickly shifted to resolute.

"Lana, you've been pushing me away, yes, but not hard. If you'd wanted me to stop pursuing you then why not just tell me outright? And I know you know you haven't done that," he squinted at me and smirked playfully, "I'd even say you've avoided it."

I frowned and was about to launch into a defensive reprisal but he cut me off.

"Just know, I wouldn't be going into this without emotional baggage either." I saw him rub his ring finger, now bare, "What ever you've been through, and no matter who you think you are, I'll be with you because that's where I want to be. We can figure it out together."

He gave me a heart-stopping smile and his eyes seemed to be alight with enthusiasm again, "I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Woods."

As hard as I tried to remain steely, I couldn't stop the heat that rushed to my face or my lips curling at the corners. I nodded once and then he was gone, the door closing with a quiet click behind him.

Before I sorted myself out I decided I needed to clean my apartment. I didn't really care if I was up all night at this point. I felt weirdly energetic. There was something alive in me that hadn't been there for a long time. The smallest flicker of a flame I thought had been permanently extinguished, until I saw it in Stephen's eyes and in his smile.

Hope.