Saturday, August 14, 2010

Come down now, They'll say

I'm sitting here at the park I used to escape to often when we used to live in the modest yellow house on Initial street. The sun is low in the sky and the soft breeze puts goose bumps on my bare legs. I don't know why I came here. Out of all the parks in this town, but my blinker turned left and I ended up here. And now I'm sitting here chain smoking and listening to the saddest music I can conjure on my Ipod. Sulking. Thinking. Stalling.

In a few short days (five to be exact) I'll be sitting in my new apartment. Alone. Defeated. New. I don't know how ill feel then, and frankly I don't really know how I feel now. I'm so confused about it all, how I ended up here, how we ended up here. On December 31st I made a declaration. The year of change. But I had no idea exactly how true that was going to be. We're halfway through 2010 and my life has flipped a 180 and new meets me everyday. When I announced that in our living room in the last few hours of December I have to admit, it was a bit of a threat. A warning. I thought I was warning him but unbeknownst to me, I was actually warning myself. Brace yourself Bonnie- this is going to be a rough ride.


But right now I don't want to think of the present. Of how I'm alone, lonely and lost. How I've been homeless for two months. How I've experienced new things and have had some of the best times of my life so far as of recent. No, right now all I can think about is the years past. Of how the music that comes across the screen of my Ipod brings such vivid memories flowing over me- into me. And suddenly I'm not in my last weeks of being twenty-one. I'm not sitting here with the scent of tobacco draped over me- a scent I loathe. I'm not fifteen pounds lighter, years wiser, and skin thicker.


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We're squeezed together in the darkness. On that tiny daybed we used to live on. Whispering words of admiration in each others wet ears. Fingertips tracing, lips tasting, love swelling. Peace in our souls, excitement on our tongues. Your hair so shaggy, tucked under a knit beanie like always. I'm running my fingers through the dark, always slightly greasy locks and we're laughing until it hurts about who knows what. Your hands on my hips like fire. Its just us in this room of darkness. The whole world is miles away, even though my parents sit in the next room, not quite knowing the immensity of the love blooming so close to them. We've been laying here for hours but we never want to leave.


We've been talking for days but we never want to stop.


We've been loving for such a short time but cant wait for more.


I loved you so much, so wholly and pure that nothing else in my life made any difference. You were my left and I was your right. Separate we were lost but together we could take on the world. We heard their doubts and felt the sting of their words but it made no difference to us. We were young. Sixteen and in love. Fifteen and consumed by the presence of my only. I believed so completely that you were it. That I found you and you sought me and we would forever live in the vastness of the other. From the day our eyes first met I loved you. From the moment your fingers touched my skin I wanted you. From the first note of your voice I never wanted you to be quiet.


I was fifteen but felt grown. You took me from the naive, lost, just learning little girl I was to the grown, loved, experienced woman I was to become. We laid on that bed under the warmth of a blanket, intoxicated by the scent of the other and every word we spoke was like a whisper to the soul. Every touch we felt was like a secret told to the other.

'I need you so much closer'.

It was like we could never be close enough. And when we would talk all the words there were to talk, we would grow quiet. Letting our bodies do the talking. We were young but old enough to know. It felt so right and so wrong at the same time. Maybe I gave myself to you too soon, but it didn't matter. I gave you my body, but it was my soul you earned. I handed over every part of myself wrapped in delicate paper and tied with a crimson bow. Without reservations. Without doubt, or worry I gave you myself never once thinking you could do anything but accept it with the utmost care and gratitude. We would move to the floor to avoid the creaking of the wood slats under the soft mattress, but it never felt cheap. Nothing with you ever felt anything but perfect. We were silent. Nothing but the faint inhalation in my throat and my exhale whispering softly could be heard. Cool perspiration would form on our foreheads and my long blonde hair would always somehow fall loose from its restraints. We would be at it for hours, never wanting to stop. Never imagining one without the other. Our eyes would widen and stillness would ensue whenever a creaky floorboard could be heard. And when we'd had enough we would move back to the bed and in each others arms we would once again be.


In that room we planned our life. We built our house and named our kids. We ran away and gave each other the life we felt we deserved. In that room we grew together. We laughed and cried. We hoped and we felt defeated. We argued and made up. We were invincible but so small at the same time. If the walls of that room could talk, it would speak the words of young love. So textbook, but so unique all at once. If I could bottle the scent of the air it would smell of candies perfume and you. If it could offer advise it would have told us to remember every single moment spent within its walls. That those days were limited and that life would never be as simple or innocent as it was at that time. And if the memories I have of that room tell me anything it would be to never regret- not for a second what we had together because it was perfect and special, and complex and deeper than anything we may ever have again.


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I think back to those days and I feel so lucky. So fortunate to have experienced what we did together. And nothing. Not the mistakes made or the hateful words spoken or the anger thrown at each other can taint that. And I can say I tried. I tried so fucking hard to hold onto that love that used to dwell between us. I never wanted to let it go. I never wanted you to let me go. But you did and I did now I'm gone and oh my fuck how I miss you so. And I'm so scared and so hurt and so desperate. But you cant force whats not there. You cant patch whats been cracked. You cant ever be the same as when you were young and in love.


When the freckles in our eyes

Are mirror images

And when we kiss

Their perfectly aligned”

-The postal service



*written on 7.30.10

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