Pains

Description of a small event.

I stared at the big poster of a map of the immediate areas around the airport where tourists could go right after they get off the plane. With my little purple bag right next to me and my Herschel backpack hanging off one shoulder, my boots felt the most uncomfortable and I wondered why I chose to wear actual boots for a flight. It made sense to do so in my head because it was a short flight, two hours or so, I don’t pay attention to detail at this point since I need my wits about me.

It’s a new city, I've never been here before and in the past couple of years, if someone told me this is where I would be at this very moment, I would have said, “hah! I wish”. I knew he was on his way, or probably already here, watching me from somewhere, trying to figure out how to approach me, or the situation that is about to unravel. We've been friends for a while, well, more than friends some would say, but for the most part, if anyone were to strip the situation down to its bare minimum, they would describe it as a friendship.

I bit my lip in anticipation and tapped my foot, trying to get my mind to settle down from all the thoughts going on in my head; I picked that one task of reading the map. Of course it was pointless. I had already booked a suit in a hotel, the closest one I could get to the airport, and a cab service, paid for and ready to take me wherever I pleased in the city. Even though he promised to take me wherever I needed and give me a place to stay, I did not trust everything fully enough not to have backup.

My phone rings, and I jump, a message. Feeling suddenly conscious of myself, I read the text. “Nice shoes”, it said. I froze, fighting a smile; I knew he was around here somewhere just watching me. he chose to text me and see how I’d react to it, he pays very close attention to detail, this I knew so the slightest off thing I do towards his message, he would see. I relax my shoulders and text back, “you can have them if you like”. I was not going to whirl around and look for him, I’d do as I planned, go wait for my car service, he could follow me if he liked.

I extend the handle on my little purple bag and wheel it behind me heading to where all the cars are. I noticed immediate movement out of the corner of my eye heading in the direction I was heading, my heart began to race, he is so different, it’s beautiful, I get nervous, I knew he wanted me to see him out of the corner of my eye, a little smirk lifts the corner of my mouth, I liked how nervous the made me.

“Allow me”, he says, as I reach for the car door handle. “Pretty lady..Why do you always wear black?” he asked casually, as if we have been talking an hour before and the awkward phase was over. “you like it”, I respond to him, trying to be as casual sounding as possible. He helps me lift my bag which wasn't all that heavy really. “did you forget to bring clothed or something?”, he asks, gesturing at how light my bag was. I knew he wasn't expecting an answer because he watched the driver pull away without asking where we wanted to go, his brows furrowed a little in deep thought. “does he know where we’re going?” he asked.

“Yes”, I responded simply, “I planned everything out, we’ll be going to the XYZ Hotel, and I booked a room there.” I knew it would offend him a little since he had offered to take care of me while I was in his city. I didn't want to deal with that so I quickly added that I as hungry. “Have dinner with me”, I said simply. He glanced out the window as we pull up to the hotel, “I’m not that hungry, but I don’t mind watching you eat”, he says, monotone.

I frown, I knew he was upset and I couldn't stand it. He always had a hold over me, me being me, sensitive to everyone around me and their feelings, his always came paramount, I couldn't deal with it, the smallest thing. Sometimes intentional, sometimes not, he could always,  and probably will always be able to pull my strings in the direction he would want me to move in. I remembered when he told me he would change everything in his life to be good enough for me, back when he was utterly and completely in love with me, when he was desperate for me, when he craved me. A lump formed in my throat and my eyes watered a little.

“I’ll help you unpack”, he said warmly. He knew he accomplished what he wanted to. I hurt him so he hurt me back, that was our relationship, which has always been our relationship as destructive as it may sound, it showed me that I had an effect on him and I loved that. We checked in.

Standing in the room, he looked at me, intensely, studying me. it made me nervous. “There’s not much to unpack”, I announce awkwardly as I pace the room. It was large and fresh, French with a modern twist to it. I enter the bathroom and check if everything on is okay. The mirrors especially, if they are double sided, it has always been a worry for me.

I find him standing on the doorway, watching me still. “that’s creepy you know”, I continue, the silence making me extra nervous. He grabs my arm and pulls me to him. “what are y-“, I start but he doesn't let me finish. He plants a deep kiss on my lips, gently slipping his tongue into my mouth, his hands lovingly reaching around my waist, he groans, a sigh of relief almost. He moves his lips to my cheek, the neck, nibbling on it, “I've missed you”, he whispers roughly, his breath labored. “I can’t stop myself” he explains, almost to himself, “I am hungry”, he continues, “I want you, I want you”, he pulls me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, tossing me onto the bed, “I don’t know how to be gentle”, he jokes. “Try”, I chuckle back as he pushes himself onto me. “Oh god”, he whispers to himself as he pushes himself onto me, passionately rubbing himself on me. he rolls us over and I end up on top of him and the kissing subsides. “lets go get you some food”, he says, looking satisfied as he lifts me off him easily. “now that we've got that out of the way, I can look at you in the face without wanting to, well, you know.”, he says letting me gather myself.

We leave the room and have dinner, and he did eat. “Stay with me”, I tell him casually, feeling very comfortable. He smiles at me. “I won’t go anywhere”, he says gently. Melting me. We never admitted it to each other like normal people would, but we were dangerously in love with each other. And when I say dangerously, I mean it. We drive each other to the end of the stick, always, violently tearing each other apart, knowing that we only and only the two of us are able to fix each other once we've absolutely destroyed each other.

He follows me to my room, which would be our room for the tree days I’d be in the city, sneaking kisses on the way there. He begins to undress me as soon as we close the door behind us. “We’re not going to have sex tonight”, he whispers to me gently as he slips my panties down my thighs, “so soft”, he whispers. He enjoys talking to him I notice and point it out. He chuckles and shushes me, “you don’t get to talk, you've been with yourself, I have not, let me enjoy you.

We didn't have sex. But we lay naked in the bed, talking till we both fell asleep. He wouldn't let me move, his body temperature higher than usual, which he swore was normal, made sleeping in the same bed with him uncomfortable but he didn't care, he enjoyed my suffering. Still, it warmed my heart.

The days went by quickly and we did things tourists would do in a new city but stayed indoors for the most of the part of it, being intimate, filling each other’s voids with endless love and comfort we know we both terribly need. Out of all the people I have ever interacted with, he was the one who knew me thoroughly through my darkest times, through the drugs and the abuse and the pain of trying to stay alive, he knew me, he got me through it and sometimes I believe he doesn't understand how much he means to me.

One of the main reasons I left him in the beginning. I hated him, utterly and completely hated him, I could wish nothing but the worst for him when he betrayed to me, all the castles he built be, were made of straw and he lit them all on fire, and then he laughed. Gosh I hated him. He said he would change everything for me, to get me out. He lied of course, and he ripped my already weak soul into tiny pieces. My friends don’t understand me. They don’t understand why I have forgiven him. But I have not, I never will, I will always hate him, but I will always love him too, and that is the problem, it is too complex, and not the cliché “it’s complicated”. We are too deep in each other’s voids to just pull away and say it’s over, it will never be over, and we are almost one piece of something messy and beautiful and dangerous.

“Don’t go”, he whispers, “stay with me, I can make it work, we can live together”. He was intoxicated by the moment, and me and the emotion again, I knew I could never trust him again but it still made me feel good. I was addicted to his ways, I can’t quit him and that’s what the other one tried to explain.

He is different, physically and probably every other way. But their similarity outweighs all their differences. They’re both gorgeous, both intelligent, but that doesn't matter. All of it doesn't matter. What does is...Well, nothing, I’m still seated here, writing, and wondering. Just wondering, no specific question or topic in mind, just a giant question of nothing or everything.

I wonder though, if he misses me now, or if he thinks about me, or if he ever had any ‘feelings’. I don’t want to believe I wasted my time, I’m still wondering if I am wasting my time, I don’t want anything from him and sometimes I feel like he should pay, and hurt a little, I wonder if he did hurt or he just is what they say he is…. Let’s forget about it all for now. All of it, all I said, did not happen.

It could have, of course, probably in millions if different ways, all beautiful and ideal for me but it did not. I implore you now to step out of yourself and position yourself in the mold I have created. Fear not, it is not going to crush you, it might make you feel a certain way, but because you are not me, you can step out of it whenever you please.

Imagine being in a big white palace, abandoned but still beautiful, leaves rustle about in its clear hallways from thousands of seasons ago. Do not imagine it as a typical Disney castle, but as a bohemian mansion, painted with crushed shells so that the sun makes it glow, a blinding white. It is hot outside, sun scalding, with a warm breeze whispering through the trees, carrying the distant sound of the ocean. On its big landing, is shade, you feel comfortable, peaceful, you are the only one there and that doesn't bother you, it is your place, no one else can enter without your permission.

Or so you thought.

And then there’s you, majestic and beautiful, everything bows to you there, it is your mind, yours, you will it to do what you want, and yest somehow, a sharp darkness always lingers on the corner, never really visible, you cant focus on it, but you know that it is there, that alone is enough to send you toppling and tumbling into uncertainty, new territory that you fear, plunging you into an area with no protection, causing you to cower in a corner.

This is where the anger comes in. why? Why must you feel helpless? Afraid? The memory of you standing outside your castle, reigning over everything your eye can touch burns bright behind your lids and you get enraged, irate, lashing out mindlessly in defense and damaged pride, you destroy all. And all will never be the same.

Back to me.

I have been wronged. And I have wronged myself. My castle has been burned down and the ashes worn by him as a warrior wears the blood of his victim. He left me screaming in agony as my world came crashing down around me. Utterly, and completely destroyed. The worst part is that I do not know how, and when, neither do I know why. One moment, I am queen of the world, owner of my universe, next I am holding my heart in my hand, carved into and ripped apart, unrecognizable. Sick. I got physically sick every time I thought of it. An indescribable deep red and hot wound right in my center, where all balance came from, I was thrown askew, into a rapid and painful tornado, spinning with no eye in which I could seek and find calm.

My heart hurts.

I have tried to understand, all the possibilities spread across the sky in front of me, and I still am not able to put it all together. All it bubbles down to, through all the calculations and rearrangements is that I am weak. Never was strong. And I refuse to accept that as an answer.

I know I will eventually have to accept it, but for now, I want to understand.

It is simple. I was promised things. Freedom to be more precise. But it is complicated as well. Maybe you could help. Let us start from the top.

My existence, as a whole, has a purpose, which is to please, or so that is what I have been taught, and so have a billion girls like me, before me been taught. Trained in the art of pleasure, we get sold, as tools. To please. Now, call it human nature or what is missing in human nature, I am one of the extremely few who refused my fate. And in my battle against it, in the most important stage, I met him. Brilliant and righteous. Of course he did not claim to be excellent; but  he oozed all that was right with the world. Now imagine all that is right with the world offering you a hand, to lift you out of the cesspool of human scum, and hold you in its arms until the end appears. And so I set up my catapult and positioned myself on it, and off I went, violent and free, shot into the cool abyss.

 He was not there to catch me. 

I should have known.

And so I fell, all he was, ripped right through my center on the way down, heart in shreds, on my knees, in front of my burning castle. I will never forgive myself. And I will never accept help again. Life is not for the weak, it is not for the accepting, what made me think it would be any different for me. you must claw your way out of every abyss you find yourself in, it doesn't matter if your nails fall off or if your fingers are worn to the bone, nothing will get where you want to be, no one will.

Except for you. You must love yourself enough to die for yourself.

I still want to hurt him sometimes. But then that is just when I am alone in my castle and the demon I put in a cage begins to stir, causing earth quakes and volcanic eruptions. Yes, I built another castle, same as before, but not quite. This one has a resident. The girl, hole in her chest and heart in her hand. I took her in, of course I did, how could I leave her out there? The elements taking away from her very will to live, I will nurse her back to health, she will rule with me. I need her, a queen without compassion and tenderness is not a queen but a tyrant. My world will not be without balance again, it will not be the top it was before, spinning and unbalanced, it will have a second pillar, strong, loving and supportive, it will have me, scars and all.

 I know you are curious, what of him?

Well...

He lives, ever brilliant, ever beautiful, does he know of the damage he leaves in his wake? I am not quite sure. What do I think of him? I will not say much, I feel everything for him. I love him. I despise him. I want to protect him from all those who wish to harm him. And yet I fear I will be the one to cut into him and feed him to the wolves.

He is my conundrum.

...