Old Habits Die Hard

A Story by Rachel

I remember the day--February 25^th. There had been something very wrong that I noticed almost immediately. Bringing it up to you didn’t accomplish anything, because you told me everything was fine, but it was evident in the next few days that that was a lie. Alas, it was too late. You were gone.

Every night I cried, and I missed one day of work, claiming I was sick. In a way, I really was sick. Constantly I found myself asking, “Was there anything I could have done to prevent it? What did I do wrong? What could I have done differently?” All those prompts led to answers that I only wanted to deny. Although I disregarded them in my mind, I could not lie to my heart. Looking over the course of the times you and I shared, it was plain to see that it truly was my fault. There were so many things I could have fixed.

Sometimes I brought myself to tears thinking about the old times when you were still around. Seated on my marble counter top, face nearly against the mirror doing my makeup, you were the only thing on my mind, and of course, thinking of you brought along with it the tears. Your face was imprinted on the inside of my eyelids, and the words you had said to me were etched into my brain. I had memorized the way you smiled at me whenever our eyes met and the way you pressed your lips together and stared down at mine before we kissed. I can still picture your walk. There is no one else who walks in such a way.

I recall once, standing just by the railing of a steep staircase, we stood, holding hands and staring down. “Let’s jump together, baby,” you whispered in my ear.

You then proceeded to pick me up and act as though you were about to throw me over the edge. Instead, you set my feet back on the ground, but I remained in your embrace. To be honest, my feet never touched the ground while we were together--face to face or miles apart. Sadly, not all memories of us were so sweet. You turned cold. Bitter.

Seeing your face after you left was unbearable. Even though it was like a bolt of lightning to my heart each time we crossed paths, similarly to what a car wreck on a busy intersection may cause, I couldn’t force myself to look away. I couldn’t get past you. You were like roadblock. At one moment, I was feeling great, and then I saw you, and instantly I felt insanely foolish and distressed but simultaneously awed by you. I always vigilantly awaited your appearance. Your presence made me happy. It was the only taste of you that I could acquire from a distance, and the taste was enough to feed the fire that kindled within my heart. It was enough to make me want more.

I was addicted to it all--the hurt, pain, and nasty side effects included.

Currently I am dating Joel, who is an incredibly sweet and handsome guy. In comparison to you, he is an angel. He is everything to me that you never were. Finding a guy like him was no mistake or coincidence, and now that I am past you, I can appreciate the greatness of him more than I ever would have before.

I ran into you a couple days ago while I was with Joel at the grocery store. When you approached us, he defensively took a step closer to me and worked his arm around my waist. Without noticing Joel at all,--most likely on purpose--you said, “Hey, long time, no see.”

I smiled. My heart didn’t even skip a beat.

We exchanged a bit of small talk, but after that, you took a different turn. You asked a question that I never would have expected. “So have you missed me?”

I gave it a considerable amount of thought in the few seconds that it took me to generate an answer. It was then that a few things became clear. It was never my fault. For some reason, my mind, in an attempt to find someone to blame, turned promptly on myself, which is typical for human beings.

Obviously I missed you. I missed you late in the night where we used to lay and whisper in the dark. I missed you on holidays. We had spent so many together. I missed you when I was out with our old group of friends. It wasn’t the same. But if I still had you, I would have lost my chance to find the one; Joel.

“Well?” you asked, grinning cunningly.

I glanced from Joel to you. “Yeah,” I said, “I did. But I think I missed you right.”

© 2013 Rachel

Author's Note

How does it make you feel? What do you think at first?

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Reviews

POETIC SOUL 2013

This story actually made me cry bittersweet tears. you have such a talent for description and you definitely know how to tug at the heart strings. just an awesome piece!