Her delicate body lies underneath mine, soft skin becomes rigid, what was moist is now wet. Her eyes catch the little particles of light that bounce around the nearly dark room. They sparkle; giving her a look of innocence that I hate myself for. I have fallen in love in the past, possibly too many times. But with her, I felt as if I owed her my love, a debt that I couldn’t really pay. What was there; isn’t. Disappointment washes over her face like a bucket of water, I feel bad that I’m glad it’s there. I set myself softly next to her as she turns away from me. Regret. If I could write down every regret I have had, each on a single piece of paper, the stack would be high, taller than me. I can try to hide in its shadow, but it will find its way to devour me. Eat up and spit out the tiny bits of my being that I have left.
I find a note tightly tucked into my coat pocket. It outlines in nervous detail my future mistakes. I have done this before, though it never worked out right. I crumble it up and stuff it back into my coat’s pocket. The line for the ticket box is long, I reach for my wallet to hand her money to go inside, seconds after the door closes behind her I’m pushed to the ground, something hard scratches my face as I move my hands to catch myself. Little specks of blood cover my palm as I try to lift myself up. A shooting pain and I lay back on the ground. Someone and I am not quite sure who lifts me up to my feet. My eyes water and the world is blurry. She shuffles past the onlookers. The popcorn falls and scatters across the cement when she catches sight of my bloody hand. “What happened?” She asks as I wince from the pain. “I fell.” A random old woman appears from the crowd. “Someone pushed him right down, I was standing just over there.” She points for no reason to the location she once occupied. “Should we go to the doctor?” She asks me as I try my best not wince when her index finger and thumb meet my wrist. “After the movie.” I say with still watery eyes. She gives me a look of ‘are you fuck’en kidding me?’
The chairs linked in an unforgiving way, I try to move my fingers but the pain shoots to my head telling me to stop. My name is called and they wrap my wrist tight, the entire time she doesn’t say a word. We make it back to the car. I pick at the corners of the cast to have something to do in the silence. She clears her throat while we sit at a red light than speaks. “I don’t understand why you would lie to me. If someone pushed you just say it. No need to be all manly, dammit I’ve seen you cry!” I open my mouth to reply but the note flashes in my head. I sit twisting my tongue than tell her I’m sorry. The rest of the drive is silent.
She heads to bed before me. I hear the door to the bedroom click. I stagger to my desk and pull out some pen and paper. I try to write with my right hand but it hurts too much, I opt to write the note with my left. The letters slant as if they were in a hurry to get off the page, I fold it tightly. Grab my device and head back. My house is dark; I hear the blankets shuffle from the room but knew I wasn’t going to be caught. I find my coat and tuck the note inside. My wrist hurts again I let out a nearly audible cry. I recover and use my device to head home. The room’s light cause my eyes to strain. I stumble my way to the switch and extinguish them. The room turns cold and unwelcoming.
The sun pours into the room giving her body a glow. I watch as her chest rises and drops with every breath. She fell asleep with her makeup on, she hates that but I love the smell. With a sense of perfection for the morning, I set my head back down and close my eyes. Not seconds later I hear a noise in the living room. Her warmth still lies next to mine as I slide the pistol from under my pillow. Tip-toeing I open the door. Someone is going through her purse but pauses when I step into the room and turns. I stand broken and bruised in front of me. “Shit- this isn’t supposed to happen.” The other me mumbles as I lower my pistol. The door squeaks from behind, enough time for me to turn and for him to disappear. I tuck the pistol in the chair next to me as she comes into view. “Are you talking to someone?” she asks in a groggy morning voice. “Just myself…” I give her a smile as she walks to the bathroom to wash her face.
The benches are worn but the food is good. Our coffee cups are mismatched. Her cup tells me to take kids fishing, mine has something that’s too worn to read. She likes this place and I pretend to like it. The meeting I had this morning races through my mind. She couldn’t find her keys, so we took my car. Did he take them, and why? She always loses her keys, though. Our food arrives, the type of too greasy you love it. We walk to the car after we eat. Her car can fit in smaller spots than mine so we had to park further away.