Loves' Destruction

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Love can be so unclear a lot of time pain and happiness can be intermingled in a single breath, a solitary moment, an infinite second.

I lay there comatose, face pressed against cold tile. Tears cascaded down my cheeks flooding the bathroom floor. I didn’t wipe them. The energy required to move my arms eluded me. My eyes stared unblinkingly at the red Hilton emblem a foot from my nose. How much time had passed seconds, minutes, hours I couldn’t say. I was frozen. My breath came out in ragged and choppy gasps; it felt as though someone were standing on my chest. My mind seemed to race with a million thoughts but I could only decipher one. How could this happen? Visions of a set of perfectly lined dominos tumbling down filled my mind as I watched my world slowly crumble before me. It was finally over, but did I make the right choice? I could hear him pacing outside the bathroom door so I tried to breathe more steadily. I needed to be strong I thought. I knew if I could just make it through the next few hours I would be on a plane back to Hawaii and then hopefully this would all go away. I desperately wanted to believe that it was just some terrible dream. My boyfriend of nearly two years had committed the cardinal relationship sin, and my heart lay shattered on the floor beside me. Too late I realized how foolishly lucky I had been to never experience the pain of a broken heart. My luck had finally run out I thought with a harsh self deprecating laugh. More tears, I began to wonder if I would ever stop crying or would I eventually drown in a puddle of my own self pity.  I sniffled, oh shit I thought to loud the pacing outside the door stopped, he had heard me.
“Latoya, is everything okay?” His voice was muffled by the door but it sounded strained. It was foreign to hear him refer to me by my first name. He started calling me cheeks a week after we met. He said it was because I was cheeky whatever that meant. There was a tap against the door as he called my name again louder this time. I contemplated not answering but I knew Armand well enough to know that he wouldn’t leave me alone until I did. I cleared my throat as quietly as possible then tried to formulate a sentence. Nothing came out; it was as though my body refused to obey the will of my mind. He begins to talk again his voice falling like needles upon my motionless body. I decided to just tune him out. My mind flashed back to a simpler time; when I was the girl still madly love with her boyfriend. I remember sitting on the bed watching TV a slight smile embracing the corners of my lips. In my mind’s eye I stood there looking down at myself wondering if I had ever really looked that happy, that innocent, that naïve, or was the image distorted through time. Another tear slipped down the sides of my face. I watched the former me anxiously waiting for Armand to come home simply so I could inquire about his day. He always told the best stories, he would become extremely animated and change his voice to emulate his co-workers in the stories. As if I were experiencing the moment all over again I heard the screen door shut and I knew Armand had come home. He walked in the roomed dressed in customary military attire but I wasn’t looking at his clothes for I was captivated by his face. He was more beautiful than handsome with high cheekbones and perfectly arched brows. He had a long straight nose and a strong jaw that added an air of arrogance to his expressions. Perhaps his most stinking features were his eyes; they reminded me of the forest, jade green and flakes of amber blended together in perfect harmony. When he focused his gaze on me I felt as though I could hide nothing. On this day however they seemed to sparkle with sheer joy, and I find myself wondering as he embraced the former version of me giving her a passionate kiss on the lips, if that look of happiness had ever been in his eyes. He set me down on my feet and said simply, “I missed you cheeks.” That was all he needed to say because those three simple little words meant the world to me for I had missed him to. We lay down on the bed he pulled me into the comfort of his embrace and we talked for hours, about everything and about nothing at all. I cherished nights like that, laying in his arms without a care in the world lost in the joy of being near one another. I would never experience another night like that I thought and as if a tub of ice water had been dumped over me I returned to the harsh reality of my current situation, he had betrayed me… Fresh tears begin to fill my eyes as my body began to convulse at the sheer weight of that thought.

Armand was still speaking through the door but much of what he had said was lost to me. Suddenly there was a pause, the silence that seemed to fill the room was deafening. Then his voice came from the other side of the door, “Latoya please talk to me.” Something in his tone had changed it was no longer a plea, he sounded broken. The emptiness I heard in his voice called out to the corners of my soul. We were two sides of one coin he stood empty while I lay broken, both caught in a web of loves destruction.  In that moment we were once again on the same wave length both equally drowning in a sea of pain, both afraid to hold on but even more afraid to let go. I had to move, a part of me desperately wanted to open the door and rush into the comfort of his arms if nothing else than to reassure him that everything would be okay. However, I knew that to run to him now but would nothing more than self inflicted mutilation upon my soul. I lay there trapped in my silent prison and waited. Eventually his voice begun to fade until it was no more than a whisper of incoherent words, and then I found myself trapped in the roar of silence that seemed to fill every corner of our hotel room.

The tears had finally stopped. I lay there numb, feeling nothing more than the coldness of the tile floors that seem to mirror my heart so perfectly. It took what seemed to be god like strength to hoist myself off that floor. As I stood there looking in the mirror at my swallowing, blood shot eyes I knew that I had taken the first step towards healing the damage inflicted on my person. I studied myself with detached criticism and noted that it seemed as though I had aged significantly in the last couple hours. The reflection that stared back at me was unfamiliar, it was clearly my face but then it wasn’t my face at all. Had those lines beneath my eyes always been so prevalent, had the hint of a frown always rested upon my brow, had my lips always appeared so harsh and unforgiving? Perhaps the most noticeable change was the emptiness that lay behind my eyes. Eyes that use to shimmer with the fiery sparks of life now lay dormant with remnants of pain lurking around the surface. I stared at my reflection for a long time almost as if to convince myself that I was still me. I forced myself to smile if nothing else than to prove that I was still capable of such an act. When I had finish conducting a thorough survey of my visage I began to work on damage control. I knew I couldn’t hide in the bathroom for the rest of my life. Luckily it was our last day in New Orleans and I also knew that in a few hours I would be on a plane home that thought alone was comforting. I splashed some cold water on my face and doused my eyes with Clear All hoping to hide the fact that I had been crying. I knew facing him would be hard but I steeled my heart and went for the door I would not run from this, that was the last thing I thought before reality slapped me in the face.

I walked out of the bathroom and there he was the love of my life standing in front of me tears flowing unchecked from his eyes. Nothing could have prepared me for this because in the twenty-seven months I had known him I had never even seen his eyes mist. To be quite honest before this moment in time I wasn’t even sure he was capable of crying. He fell to his knees and embraced me. He looked up at me; his normally guarded eyes were an open book. Never had a glimpsed so much of a person’s soul. I saw his love, his pain, his torment and guilt over what had happened. He silently pleaded with me to say something, but words seemed to fail me. As if sensing this he buried his face in my abdomen and said in a hushed slightly muffled tone, “stay”. The words hit me with the impact of a freight train; stay the possibility of working things out had never even entered my mind. Was it even possible to work through something like this when trust had been so badly violated? Would I ever be the girl I was before the incident took place? I couldn’t stop questions like that from evading my mind, causing embers of hope to seed in my heart. In hindsight I think I was looking for an easy answer but in that moment there were no easy answers.  I was flooded with memories of a better time, memories over run with joy and feelings of love that radiated from the two of us and threatened to out shine the sun. However those memories began to fade in the face of the overwhelming pain that I felt, intermingled in the pain was anger and resentment stomping out those seeds before they could begin to take root. I hit behind that anger willing myself to do the last thing I wanted, hate the person I loved most in the world. It was at that moment that I realized that something inside of me had change and I was no longer sure if I was capable of loving Armand again. He told me how much I meant to him, he must have said I’m sorry like a thousand times but my heart lay broken on the bathroom floor I was empty an open drain and at that moment I had nothing left to give. I looked down at him and said in what to me sounded like and emotionless tone that I couldn’t be with him anymore. As soon as those words left my mouth a dam in him seem to break and his emotions ran free. He told me that it felt as though his insides were hurting and he just wanted the pain to stop. I hugged him trying my best to give him what little comfort was left inside of me for despite all that had happened the last thing I wanted was to cause him pain. Comfort was the only thing I could offer at the moment so I held him close to my heart and I promised him that everything would be okay, I told him that I forgave him even though I knew deep down I hadn’t. I told him that our relationship had run its course and we just weren’t right for each other, even though we may have been perfect for one another. I told him a lot of things and then eventually I told him good bye. When I walked out that door to catch a cab to the airport I honestly thought that would be the last time I ever saw Armand Curet. It was all very bitter sweet for a part of me never left that hotel room.  As the cab sped away I knew I could have given us a second chance because we had all the tools to make it work. In a moment of painful clarity I realized that underneath all the pain and anguish I was still deeply in love with Armand. One may ask the question, how is it possible to love someone who has hurt you so badly. Well that’s the thing about love, it beyond our control. No matter how bad we may desire it, when its real love never seems to fade away completely. It can be so beautiful and consuming but when it’s broken it leaves open wounds on our heart that even when close never seem to heal completely. That is loves bitter sweet irony.

 


Submitted: September 20, 2011

© Copyright 2020 LMCuret. All rights reserved.

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