"You'll never see my face again," I said. And I actually meant it. This time.
We had been discussing my idea of moving for a few weeks, but that night, as I tried to draw comfort from him, he pushed me away. In my studio apartment, there was no place to go. Isolated, I felt more alone with him being there. Privacy from my own isolation - how ironic. It was assaulting me in my own apartment. Unable to indulge myself... Am I leaving him? Am I leaving this apartment? How will I get there? To Florida? But I love Denver. Do I really want to leave? Am I ready? I missed my family, though I knew this would mean saying goodbye to him once and for all. But it's the logical thing to do. I'm logical, right?
Heading to the bathroom to be alone with my handful of reasons to relocate my life, I couldn't help but see the poetic justice in my final goodbye that Thursday morning at 5:00 am. Surfacing hours after my departure into the bathroom, with the realization...this is my apartment, who are you to lay in my comfortable bed in your peaceful slumber, as I tried to find comfort on the tiles of a bathroom floor with a book in my hand. Bed time is over:
"Ya' gotta go" I said, as I ferociously flipped on the lamp.
His fits of rage pierced my apartment as I stood next to the door. I let the feeling of this will never happen again saturate my body. Holding my breath while focusing on those soothing words, I deprived him of his declarations of warfare. There was no need. The battle was already over.
Delivering him to his own sleep haven, I sat motionless, as the car door slammed in those closing moments. Watching him climb the stairs to his apartment, I knew this was our ending to a once sort of fairy tale. You'll never feel this way again, I reassured myself and my feeble car doors. Making my way back to my now serene apartment, I embraced my angst about future plans with the lights on.
Ripping the posters off the wall, and moving the boxes out into the hall, I allowed my own words to fuel me. "You'll never see my face again."
His reply of "this better be the last time" has been contradicted by his recent texts: "I love and miss you, and I want to see you... and you don't even care to respond.".
Though he didn't realize I had actually moved my life halfway across the United States, I did mean it this time.
people told me, slow my roll.... and i'm screaming...
ReplyDeleteNo doubt about it, Tiffany. You are clearly in charge of your life now. I love it! Another great song that I've never heard before too!
ReplyDeleteWhen I was in love so I thought at 19 years old.. My boyfriend beat me up, it was bad, the police were called.. I had said for 16 months of dating him.. If a man every hit me, it will be the last time they see me. It was true, I was flying off to Texas to live with Tony and Carol..( Uncle Brian paid for the flight) I felt true control. It was so powerful to just fly out of state. I never heard from him again. We didn't have text's then but I knew in my heart... I was a different person, and would someday meet my husband who would love and respect me for our lives together. Oh, Yea thanks again Tony and Carol.. loved Texas!
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing aunt erin. Sometimes we just know... when ya gotta go ... 'ya gotta go!
ReplyDeleteWhen you have met the end in your heart--it is the end...regardless of anything else that can be thrown at you..the end is the end. Only you can know it--there is no going back.
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