| She stared at the ceiling bathed in the yellow of the light and listened to his measured speech about the girl that was, the girl that haunted the quiet recesses of her mind. She dared not speak, hoping the silence was enough to answer her cry. It wasn’t jealousy or hate, but the quiet patter of a broken heart that made her stare blankly. She had impressed on the world the image of strength, a heart never to be shattered or broken, but early in the morning she sits in front of her computer, tapping in rhythm the story of her emptiness.
It’s like dawn in a quiet shore, where a curved shell pulls on the tide, only to be left beached, drained, and abandoned by the hands of its creator. Though water had smoothed down the sides, its edges remained sharp and jagged, cutting slowly through flesh. Though beautiful to hold, the once pulsating shell now lay lifeless, without an owner to its name. A vast roar of emptiness echoed rage, anger, disgust, and shame.
It had to end tonight, to pen a story that would open old wounds. The quiet beats of a muffled drum, beating softly for attention, for faith, and glory. It was the other, but what about her? Was it her lips, her eyes, her smile, that pulled you to her while I sat in the shadows knowing that i was about to fall. Was it a friendship that I could not offer, or was it the soft motions of her hips as you two entwined in the fast beat of her heart. You touched her and caressed her in front of me, and you knew victory was yours. You had gotten the girl, and had paraded her subtly in my face, your hands moving from her nose, to her cheek, to her neck, her shoulders, to her waist.
I looked not at you that night, but on the face of that girl, fixed at a steady point ahead of her, dreaming about what could be. But you two were not meant to be.
So you packed your bags and said goodbye to what was. And you approached me by moonlight and cupped my chin and my cheek, and told me you loved me.
I never fought for you, and I never will. But now I hesitate for a moment before I give myself to you, for the quiet angel you had left behind, she still longs for you. It isn't your fault, not hers, or mine. As I turn my head blindly the other way, you smile a crooked smile as she nods your way. I see now, as I look around me surrounded in the night, that forever is mine in this room without light.
|