"Something always brings me back to you. It never takes too long." Gravity, Sara Bareilles.
Andie
We meet in high school, at a bonfire for our freshman class. He kept asking everybody who I was. I had just moved from Arizona to Florida and this was my first social event. Once we started talking it didn't take long for us to become best friends. He became my world in one motion, one solid motion. The first time our bodies touched I knew I was in deep. Electricity runs through my body the minute I feel his finger tips on my skin. Knowing what I do now it's hard to believe that we were ever friends.
We fell in love our junior year. Every first there was to have he was mine. We grew up together. I gave him every part of me and he gave me all of him. We never broke up, we were the schools power couple. When senior year came we both got into Florida State so we moved from our small Florida town to Tallahassee, we never really left after that.
We got married young. Straight outta college full of love and youth with the everlasting sense that nothing could ever break us. It was picture perfect. Flowers everywhere, church bells sounding loud, laughing through our first dance and cutting the cake. That night we made love like we never had before, and we never did it like that again.
I don't know exactly when things changed. One minute hopelessly in love the next I'm crying on the bathroom floor trying to cover up our latest fight. I never wanted anything other to love him. That beautiful dirty blond hair with those crystal blue eyes. I guess he never really wanted to love me. Every fight we have I can see him struggling to see beyond his anger, he doesn't want to hurt me. But he still does, he still brings his fist to my face bringing back the familiar sting.
He takes away my strength, all the power I build up to him he only breaks me down. I try to convince myself it's not his fault that he's only doing this out of love. He is my anchor and always has been. Even when we lay in bed, he always has a hand on me, not the kind with love, the kind of possession. I find myself in a constant battle with him just to reassure him that I'm his. Every time he sees the bruises he cries, I know that 15 year old boy is still in him somewhere yelling at him to wake up and love me the way he did back then.
There are moments when I think about leaving, but I remember that he needs me and I need him. We balance each other out like ying and yang, he's always told me that. Even when I hate him, something always manages to pull me back into him.
I stand by our bed waiting for the moment I will no longer feel his weight on my shoulders, the moment I don't feel him constantly breathing down my neck until I'm gone. The moment I free myself from his chains is the day I will breath again.