MISTAKES

In the slow motion of her fog, she wondered if she would remember him differently.  Had it been so long since she'd seen him, touched him?  Could it ever be that way again?  Sadly, she realized it would not.  Too much had happened.  She wasn't sure that her love for him was so pure and unconditional any more. 
He was aging; a little thicker than when she had seen him last but still as handsome with that same commanding energy that had sent shock waves through her body with a simple glance.  She smiled softly at the thought of her last words to him.


"You've made a mistake."


And the part of her life that was him: the love for him, the touch of him was gone.  Black. He'd never glanced back for her, crushing her spirit in one more creative way but somehow she'd moved on.  Alone but forward.  Her days were spent, if she wasn't busy enough, drifting in and out of her loved one's experiences; vicariously living and laughing.  She often felt like a stalker to them; always just out of sight, out of reach and beyond their feelings and emotions. She wondered if she would ever feel again. Ghosts do not feel.   She did not seek him though her mind showed him to her daily; remembering:


The thin hunger on his lips as he kissed her or the raking passionate grappling as they battled valiantly against their clothes.  The sweetness of his skin and the taste of his body.  She treasured how they had moved, searching for their own pleasure but creating an incredible heat together.  She would close her eyes, seeing him before it all went wrong. She enjoyed remembering when it was good to love him. She had simply adored him;  accepting stubbornness, callousness and carelessness.  She'd forgiven his indiscretions simply because he'd asked her to.  She had loved him over and over because he said he'd needed her.  He tried to be a good husband.  That last night, he'd told her once again that there was someone new.  She'd smiled through the burning pain and had even managed a "wish you well".  She would let him go again.  It's what she did because she knew he would come back.  He always did.  In these times she tried to tell herself it wasn't for the money but because he loved her deeply; much more than the passing business trip bimbo or mile high club whore.   She would leave and wait until he came back to her, certain that it was her he wanted.  Perhaps he enjoyed the arrogance of being treasured.   But that night, he'd asked her to stay.  As always she did as he'd asked.


His kiss was rougher than usual but invoked the same response as always; hunger.  His hands were aggressive and familiar with her body; knowing and comfortable with secret spots to spark her almost instantly into a sensual frenzy.  She would try to stave him off, but he worked her well with soft whispers against her back and delicate tracings along her skin that ignited each nerve in her body.  She lost herself in his arms and savored the feel of his touch.  She tasted his skin with anticipation, growling his name as he moved inside her to the point of a climax so powerful she cried.  His hands trailed her waist, thumbs tracing the flat of her belly then along her spine so smoothly that she shivered and giggled.  He traced her jawline and kissed her mouth.  And squeezed. His passionate mouth twisted into a hateful grimace and the groaning came not from their lovemaking but the force he was using to crush her throat.  Her eyes closed to this horrifying realization.  She gave in to the throbbing behind her eyes and stifled the screaming in her lungs.  In this fog she floated around the lives she had loved; though not more than him. 

In this fog, he had left her for dead to be with someone else.  In that fog she laid motionless while he dressed and wrapped her in old blankets which he carted to the trunk of his car.  He'd driven her out to the place where they'd first made love; a neglected but scenic pond she'd thought was so romantic.  He had dumped her amongst the scrawny wild daisies dotted with spit bugs and brittle weeds.  She had been there all night, chewed by bugs and sniffed by tall curious shadows that also left her for dead.  Disoriented and sore, she sat for an entire day there where her great love had been born and died.  She cried for her life and the time she'd wasted forgiving. 


Then she'd heard the hunters tromping around and cautiously followed them to their truck.  She realized there had been great damage to her throat.  It cracked and garbled but no voice would come.  Too terrified to speak, both parties communicated with gestures like a sick game of charades which got her a coat and into the back of the truck; to the hospital where an officer  came to ask her questions, writing it all down.  Then he told her that her husband was at the police station and had been aiding in the search for her. This caused her to laugh bitterly.   But the fog had cleared and she stood tall in the hallway to the courtroom.  She waited patiently for her name and then relished the look on his face as she walked in; her voice intact and more than ready to scream now.


She had not lied.  He had made a mistake.




A little more abstract and short.  My prof liked it a lot and wanted me enter it in my new competition.  I am not so sure.  I enjoy it for different reasons but it is not one of my favorites.  Well, I hope you enjoy it.  I am glad you came by.  Your visits are special to me.  Enjoy your night and I hope we can get together before  the holiday.