Why

Seems to be the question I keep repeating in my head over and over again. Not to the fact of or if I love or loved him. In the since that why is this happening. I’ve had a couple of days now trying to block out the images in my head that I actually have no visual to reference to but I seem to know her face to a “t” . As if I could pick her out of a million faces. I have yet to dig up the courage to actually go see what she looks like. I feel that I already know her. Like an arch enemy from high school or the really annoying girl that everybody hates off of one of those reality TV shows. Still in the same I have never nor will I -in hoping - that my eyes never lay a glance on her smug face. As if she ever had the chance to know that he even had someone waiting on him to come home to. It’s hard to decide what really to think in this situation. I find my tears had to rise with hate or grief for him, her, or myself. A jolt! My heart pounding in my chest I gasp for air reaching across the bed looking for his arm. The warmth of his body that might be there but just far enough away for me to not feel the heat. Searching. When I come to my sinces with more fear striking me. My pulse rages with excitement so loud that’s all I can hear in my ears as I leap out of bed to race for the light switch by the door. When I flip the switch I fling open the door. Hesitate with embarrassment thinking that possibly he’s just down the stairs on the couch asleep form a few good times and many good pitchers of beer. I catch my breath an place my hand over my mouth to give me a feeling of security that I’m alright and everything is ok . I whisper his name. Softly as I creep down the stairs. I pause for it seemed like forever, knowing it was for only a moment with a little fear I raise my voice to a normal tone and call for him. As I round the corner of the last step. Dark and empty couch almost pathetic in sight cause no one was keeping it company. I spring to the light switch at the front door turning all switches on lighting up the entire bottom floor as if I was sending a signal out for everyone to see. Searching for someone if anyone in the house. The back room door is closed and a small glow of light under it makes me rush with excitement knowing he’s there in his bathroom taking a piss. With a small smile I run to the room swinging the door open. With excitement i call aloud his name. Loudly each letter came from my lips. Knowing, feeling he was home. Knowing I would hear the slur of “Hey baby what are you doing up?” With his goofy smirk of intoxication written all over his face. The pounding is back the fear strikes me so hard that I begin to shake. My knees buckle. I turn around frantic looking for my phone. The visions of a scene, that I now know to be a premonition, took place just minutes before start running through my head. Asleep in my peaceful room cold and dark with no light showing through the curtains. My mind gives me a shock. It was him laughing walking out of a door of a small club minutes from our apartment. It seemed as if I was standing right beside him as a ghost watching his every move. I watched his arms fold out around a figure and they lean against each other laughing as if they were old friends. She slightly stumbles as I’ve done many times drunk walking out with heals, trying to keep my balance on the slant of the broken concrete at the entrance of the club. Her back falls against the brick wall just feet from the door. She pulls him closer into her arms as the wall catches them keeping her afoot. A small grin becomes her and his face as the laughter shrieks though the sound of the music playing inside the club. Then it happened her hand across the back of his neck pulling him close with force not even needed it seemed. His arms hungrily rushing up and down her side finding their way to her waist then her ass. Their lips banded together with erotic passion of a public view make out session. That’s when I gasped for air waking my body out of this horrific scene. I run back to the living room remembering that I had taken my phone to the bedroom a plugged it into the wall charger next to my side of the bed. This was so that if there was a need or an emergency, that if Jason would need to call or text I would hear it. As I now know he never had the intentions of doing that. I leap up the stairs. Swallowing every other step. Stretching my long legs as far as I could. I race into the bedroom driving across the bed reaching for the phone. I feel myself in a panic and tears welling up in my eyes. I take a deep breath to regain my eyesight to flip open the phone. I see no text message from him. I glance at the time on the alarm clock. Frantically I send text to him. When I realized it was 3:31 am I took a deep breath and told myself to calm down. Think it’s only just after closing time at 3: oo am. Knowing him, he’s probably talking to the owner and one of the bouncers at the club he knew well. As I know he’s a talker when he’s drunk and has never keep track of time a day in his life. I quietly send a simple “Hey baby it’s almost 4am where you are “. I calmly wait for a response. I sigh of relief lets out as I convince myself that it was just a bad dream. I walk to my bathroom leaving the phone still plugged in lying on the top of my pillow. The shaking still has not stopped, but at this moment I told myself it was from this cold apartment. I am only in a white tank top and panties. We keep the A/C down to almost 60 degrees during the night. The cold air in the room, along with the weight of my two heavy comforters, keeps me sleeping like a baby. As I’m in the middle of a shivering but relieving pee that felt like I had been holding it in for days. Of course the phone starting singing with his ring tone. I smile and a light giggle comes out of nowhere with the thought of what his text might say. A comfort comes rushing across me like a warm blanket, with the sound of –Bubbly by Colbie Caillett – sings through the night air of the apartment. His ring tone. A special song I had chosen for him after the second week we stared seeing each other. I quickly walk back to the bed jump into it curling myself under the warm covers before I reach for the phone. There the lighted phone sat with “one new message” Showing in the window of my little red Motorola razor. With a smile I flip open the phone push the “read” button to see” Be home soon”. In surprise I look at the time 3:38am. In anger and shock at such a short message, of course I call him. Preparing to hear “Hey baby” With a giggle of drunkenness. I catch my breath mustering up the right tone of question to seem not angry but loving and loneliness of missing him. Pitiful sounding actually with a hint of cuteness. An act of course to keep him from getting upset at me or hearing the anger in my tone of “Hello”. Three rings now four now five, then everyone’s favorite sound the automated voice of “You have reached the voice mail box of…….” “What the Fuck “ I bark out in anger as I sat up in the bed. The Panic mixed with confusion came rushing over me like hot lava running through my veins. I panic an call right back. Two, Three, Four times. Now on the sixth time I finally leave a voice mail “Baby what’s going on! Where are you? Why are you not answering my call?” I know the fear and panic would show up in my voice, but I didn’t care. I wanted him to hear it. I wanted him to feel bad for not answering my call. I text ed “Miss U “and “Love U please come home”. Still sitting up in the bed frozen in the fear that something was wrong. By this time it was now 4:10 am. Now the feelings of the nightmare set in. I knew it was true that awful sixth sense every women has was just under my skin. It was screaming at me so loud I could not ignore it. I tried my best I called our close friends. Out of pure loss I called a person he dislikes , but is a friend to me. No one answered. During each call to anyone the jails being a grab of hope, with no being the answer of sorry. Between all calls I was still trying his phone, again, and again, and again. No answer. I couldn’t bring myself to leave another message. He was either going to answer or not weather I left a message……or not. Then it happened 4:20 his phone had been turned off. That ring, that voice, straight to voice mail a dagger of sharp wrenching pain touched every fiber of my being. Tears flowed out of me, with each drop hope fell with. Like another person was there a machine. Again, and again I keep dialing his number. Voice mail! Hang up! Dial again! Over and over…… By 4:40 one of our friends call me back. I almost fainted when the phone rang in my hand. By this time I was pacing outside in front of the apartment engulfed in complete helplessness. Half a pack of cigarettes later. I fumble to answer the phone as quickly as possible which seemed like forever. I could tell from the first breath of hello. The half awake grogginess and questioning in his voice, of what’s wrong. I knew then that he had not been out with him that night. I was sure he could hear the panic in my voice; he immediately corrected his tone to what seemed to be concern. He asked “What is it? What ‘s wrong baby girl?” I tried to compose myself but there was no chance in that. With tears rolling down my face I asked “Have you seen him? Please tell me he’s been out with you tonight!” I already knew the answer, but like me always having hope, I still asked hoping that he just might say what I needed hear. The answer full of question left his lips so softly like a whisper of wind that was destine to blow through me. “No.” He said. Without thought I Felt every muscle in me quiver as my voice cracked with anguish “I thought not ….. I – I still had to call to see if you’d seen him”. It felt like my soul had dropped to my feet. No more tears streamed down my face. The truth was in my mind already. I knew what was happening. My heart was breaking, burning with grief and pain of confusion. As such a friend should he gave me a moment before he spoke. It was like he knew what had happened. His words so caring, so soft, flowed through the phone “I’m sorry girl.” I closed the phone, turned looked at the home that was empty, all life had left. A ghost walked into that lonely silent door. I sat on the couch trying to convince myself this was not happening. No more tears came to my eyes. Only grief filled the air. My mind was shutting down; all the emotions had torn my mind apart. I now had no feelings, in my entire body. Numbness overwhelmed my every nerve throughout. What seemed like hours had only been minutes. For some will within to keep my body moving I stood up. I glanced at the clock it was now 5:05am. The thought of work streamed into my head. I now had an hour and a half till I had to be at work. The alter personality took control. The side of myself that had no emotions, no heart, just will to do what was needed. Walking up the stairs and getting into the shower seemed like a dream. It was as if I was watching myself do this task I couldn’t do. The week fearful self that always had hope that always looked for the up side to everything and everyone. The child like self was sitting in her own pity watching. Out of the shower I hop. With a new feeling that this was it I was going to go to work and I would never hear from him again. The thought that when I was to get off work at 6pm there would be nothing of his in my apartment, a relief of not seeing him, not hearing an excuse when I already knew the truth was up lifting, rejuvenating. I walked into the bedroom looked at the cloths I would wear for today an felt good that black and Grey would fit the day. A day of grieving. It cut through the steam filled air of the room, like a long sharp blade cutting into my ears sending chills up my spine. Excitement, angry, LOVE all at once rushed into my heart. A weakness came over me; I couldn’t move a muscle I just stood there staring at the phone lighting up with his beautiful face, hearing the sound of his ring tone slice through me. A jolt shook over me and I reached for the phone. Pause then a deep breath as I opened the phone to hear his voice. “Baby?” I questioned. “Hey baby.” He says. I could hear the sadness in his voice. The guilt. “Are you OK please tell me your alright!” I tried saying in a concerning voice without panic being to noticeable. “I’ve fucked up!” “I’ve fucked up real bad!” With tears in the ache of the words flowing over the phone. Fear would be another guess, but all I could hear was heart ache. His tone was as if he had just killed someone and I guess in a since he had. Me…… I asked “What happened? What did you do?” Already prepared to hear about her, but with hope that he had just ran over someone with his car. That would have been easier to deal with than the truth at that moment. As he explained that he was with another women and the things that they had done together. “What’s her name? Tell me now! Please what’s her name you owe me that much!?” Words that I didn’t even know I was saying. What was I doing? I can’t be asking this I didn’t really want to know the answer, but before I could stop myself “Heather” sired through my head. He said it without hesitation he knew I would ask he knew I would want to know. He told me how dare him!! I could only feel the eerie feeling of the numbness sinking in. Gladly I welcomed it. At this point I didn’t want to hear anything, to feel nothing at all. I wished I could just die at that moment, Melt into the floor and disappear. It’s sickening knowing the only thing I desired was to feel his arms around me, to see his face smiling down on me. Hearing “I love you” carry across his lips into my soul to ease this pain. No tears came to my eyes. Had I cried them all out? Was this all I was allowed to give him? The confusion racing fiercely through my soul like a raging river, full of questions and hate mixed with fear. “I’ll stay on the phone with you till I get home” he said This made me feel happy that he would do this for me. “Please” I whispered, clinching my teeth. “Thank you “fell out of my mouth before I could stop it. Thank you I thought to myself what the hell was I thinking. Like he deserved any degree of courtesy. I could hear each click of the turn signal, every pause in the gas. It seemed like hours before he was home. Ha “HOME” what a joke at this point. Home is where the heart is and mine was not longer here. I thought to myself. Sarcasms one of my many defenses against seeing the true weak self! I tend to use this quite often to deflect things and the strong hurtful part of me used it more often than needed. It was building to unleash upon him as soon as he would walk through the door. Images raced though my head of what I would do. Walking straight up to him and slapping his face as hard as I could keep replaying over and over in my head. “How could you!” screaming at the top of me lungs so every neighbor could hear. Then slam of the car door echoed over the phone. I raced to the top of the stairs, feel to my knees holding my face in my trembling hands, with the click of the front door. Still no tears fell from my eyes. Then I could feel your presence in the house, your steps upon the stairs, and then through the slats of the metal railing, I saw you. Still no tears. Shock in the fact that I was emotionless no words, my throat was tight with anger, my teeth were clenched together, nothing was leaving me. You sat down beside me and touched my back and everything failed me. No longer was my own strength with me. I had betrayed myself. Tears fell, as I raised my head to look at your face. At that moment forgiveness was all I could see. Love was taking over. My heart pounded right out of my chest every word every glance all I could think about was to touch your face. This I had to say to let it rush through you as if you was I waiting for you heart to walk through the door and be handed back to you in pieces. So full of passion and caring. You are a image I had once admired.