Love Me Like You Mean It… Or Don’t Love Me At All

wpress“I can’t go into the new year like this.”

“Like what?”

She knew what I was talking about, her back was to me but I could see her reflection in the mirror. Her smile was there but I could see her hands shaking trying to fasten the necklace. I walked behind her and took it out her hands, snapped it on for her, kissed the back of her neck.

All of 2012 I’d accepted our situation, when you’re an adult there’s no victims, no naivety. I could see her on Facebook, pictures with him smiling and laughing like she wasn’t just in my bed. Houston is a big city with small circles, she’d be holding his hand, looking at me with whatever flavor of the month it was and look at me like I was breaking her heart. Silent thoughts that would explode into arguments and explosive sex a day later. Concerts, parties, restaurants, our sin was our salvation. If loving a woman that was promised to someone else was a sin I was spitting in God’s face and unapologetic about it. But I couldn’t’ go into the New Year like that… I couldn’t keep that hope that there would be a happily ever after.

“Don’t I love you like I mean it?” She turned around and pressed her head against mine. “I give you more of me than I’ve ever given him! Ever!” Her hands were on my shoulders, gripping me. We didn’t move, for a minute or two we just stayed there like that.

“What does it matter how much of yourself you fucking give me if you’re his wife!? I’m writing about marriage and values and love all the damn time! I’m going out and smiling and selling a brand that’s a lie because I’d rather kill myself drinking every night having a piece of you than live having all of someone else! I can’t go into another year like that baby! I can’t! This ends today, leave this house and I don’t want to see you again.” The words felt like acid was poured directly on my heart. I felt like a failure every time she walked out my door, every time she made an excuse for not being there when I needed her. I would take the pain and hurt into the New Year but I needed to be happy and that meant not taking her.

She pushed me away and smiled, stepping into her heels he bought, grabbing her keys to the car he bought, picking up the bag that was probably some gift from him. She looked at the picture on the nightstand of us that only I knew about. The one that only got to be up when she was here or I was alone for fear someone would recognize her.

“If I walk out that door, I’m not coming back. I know things aren’t ideal right now and I can’t say when they’ll change but if any of those women held a candle! A FUCKING CANDLE!!! To what we have then you’d be with them! You wouldn’t cancel dates and not claim those bitches for fear that you’ll hurt my feelings! You need me like I need you, don’t let your pride fuck that up baby…”

The keys tapped against her leg, I could hear her breathing. This was our routine, I tell her I couldn’t do this, she cries… I cry, my heart breaks and we fuck on the floor or the couch or the bed or the dresser and she kisses me like she’s going out for milk when she’s really going home to fuck her husband. That ended today.

“Goodbye. Loving you feels wrong and it shouldn’t feel that way.”

“Come here. Come here!” She grabbed my hand and pulled up her dress, putting my fingers between my legs.

“You feel that, you feel how wet she is, how it’s beating! I don’t shower when I leave here! I don’t go home and fuck him like I do you! I close my eyes and think about you when he’s inside of me, I cry with the lights off and run to the bathroom and throw up or shower or text you! You think this shit is easy for me! You can’t give up on us, you can’t!” She thought sex could save us and maybe a month ago, a week ago, it could have. But spending Christmas Eve alone, the thought of NYE alone, loving a woman as hard as a man can love a woman and not being able to tell a soul? I’d rather spend 2013 alone grieving the lost of the most important woman in my existence than to spend another year dying emotionally.

I took my hand away and kissed her on the forehead. “I deserve better.”

Watching her straighten out her clothes, pick up the only picture there was of us and put it in her purse. She walked out my bedroom and out of my life more than likely. I waited until I heard the German horses back out the driveway and then I fell to the floor and cried as hard as any man as ever cried in his life. I’d spend my New Year writing and making new memories, trying to forget about the old ones.

2 thoughts on “Love Me Like You Mean It… Or Don’t Love Me At All

  1. Your writing always feels so personal to me. every one of your characters feels real simply because the way you write is straight forward and to the point, something i’ve said or wanted to say. Keep it coming

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