A Confession...

I like to 'try on' relationships: see what it feels like to be serious with someone, play house, even talk wedding. But in the back of my head there is always and endpoint. It's as if I believe that no relationship lasts forever, and happiness in love is fleeting. And if it seems like it may last, I ensure it doesn't. I'm only comfortable giving my heart away when I know I'll take it back. I've always done this. I've never made it over a year: I just have this intrinsic belief that it won't last. It's imbedded so much that I didn't even realize it ... until I left my last boyfriend.

I told myself I would be fine - better off, even - but I wasn't. And I couldn't understand why my old getting-over-him tricks didn't work. Months went by; a year even. But it was like my heart thumped his name. I couldn't move on... despite how I tried. It was terrifying. I didn't understand. And then I looked around me, at other relationships, and realized it didn't always have to end. Love doesn't have to mean pain. It doesn't always have to explode/implode so catastrophically. I was always looking for the ways it would fail, the inevitable destruction, and protecting myself against it by leaving first. It's the oldest story - but to me it was like the scales had been lifted from my lids.

I watched my younger brother with his live-in love, and how easy & solid it was. He recently casually mentioned to me that she was his best friend. I thought about that for weeks - I didn't know it was possible.

See, my parents' divorce was epic, and as the eldest I bore the brunt of it. I would bring my brother into my room when I heard the yelling, and we would play loud music to drown it out. I would play games with him when my mom would take us away in the middle of the night. He told me that he didn't remember the fighting, which means of course that I was successful in protecting him. It also means that he believes in love. He believes it can be safe & happy. And I'm so happy that he feels that way. I only just realized I could have what he does. Just because I saw a spectacular failure doesn't mean I'm destined to repeat it. I don't always have to be hunting for the fatal flaw. I don't have to destroy before I am destroyed. And most of all, my partner & I can be on the same team.

It was like something finally clicked... I'm allowed to trust men. And that's when I realized that more than anything in the world, I wanted him back. The one man who made even a grocery store visit magical (and I loathe the grocery store). The guy that I was always excited to see, even after a year of dating. I realized I'd made a huge mistake. Love doesn't have to be a prison. Real love doesn't come around that often. My stomach ached as I realized how carelessly I'd discarded mine.

Every day, I'm wracked with regret. And what hurts the most is the fact that I did it to myself. In all my machinations to protect my heart - I ended up fatally wounding it.


*scorpio*

Fragments

Three months since you’d last kissed me goodbye, pressing my mouth firmly, warmly, to yours. Your hand on the back of my head as if to ensure I wouldn’t disappear: before I watched you turn to walk away and felt, for the first time, my life without you in it.

One month since I’d knocked on your door, cold and bruised from an ice skating fall, and said only, “I couldn’t imagine spending my birthday without you.” After that, there were no words. Only fumbling and your warmth and the spicy-sweet scent of your skin.

Last night, in my cool blue room, the streetlight streaming across the white sheets, the lone candle flickering bedside; I undressed you. You came over, cold to the touch, but your eyes shined with warmth, love and pride. You had a surprise for me: The suit we’d picked out together, only a month before. I took as long as I could to unwrap you… the stiffness of your coat as it slid off your shoulders, the warmth of your chest radiating through the crisp white shirt. The cufflink surprise, “You shouldn’t have” at your wrists. I wanted to stay in those moments forever. I told myself to burn these images in my memory.

And then after, lying with you, the cool breeze from the frigid New York wind served as our only reminder of a world beyond our warm, safe haven. Casablanca plays on the TV as we remind each other of famous lines. Soon, I feel your breath slow on my chest, your nose burrows in my neck to soak up my scent. Grace Kelly comes back for her love, unable to bear the separation.

I know her pain.

***
Six months later, you’ll take a joy ride on a friends motorcycle one warm summer afternoon. You’ll speed down the street, impulsively revving the engine until you feel that familiar rush of adrenaline. The others are inside--there’s no one to watch you swerve to miss an animal, only to go barreling straight into a street sign.

Your body breaks with the impact: the right hip shatters, the right leg snaps furiously, the bones protrude through both your arms. You’re found in a ditch, your helmet 30 feet from the crash site. (You were never one for details).

I'm awoken by a phone call at 2 AM. You almost died, our friend said. You very nearly lost your leg. It will be months before you can get out of a wheelchair. You may never be the same. As I steel myself against the news, I realize, a part of me has always been waiting for this call.

I think of how we ended- with finality- just two months prior. And how much has changed since then. You feel so far away. I want to rush to your side: hold your head, reassure you, ‘save’ you from yet another disaster of your own design…but I won’t.
You don’t belong to me anymore.


I once called you broken. I now fear you forever will be.


*scorpio*