Midnight has passed and the moon is just a sliver in the sky above her.  At her feet, a man lays naked and unconscious, and she nudges his still toned ass with the tip of her bare foot. Once upon a time, Theo had brought her here, and she fell to his romantic gestures and sweeter words; granted the exotic accent probably encouraged the swoon marginally. He promised her the world, and a year later, brought her back and proposed.  Happier times then, and it really wasn’t so long ago that she thought that they would spend their lives together on a beach exactly like this one.

Naturally, life has had its little jokes and their marriage was no exception.  It was like being promised a box of your favourite chocolates and opening it to find rotting mice, and Glory Nobel had finally had enough. It had started 10 years ago on their wedding night, when she caught him balls deep inside her maid of honour and she’d foolishly forgave him.  Tonight, she had planned an anniversary dinner unlike anything he could have imagined, down to the flowers, a decent Pinot noir to go with the steak and steamed veggies she’d arranged to have served and a surprise for later.

As is always the way, the evening didn’t go as Glory had planned. Theo had wolfed down the steak like some animal, looking at her only once with bloody juice dripping off his chin. Disgusting.

“I’ve grown hoarse over the years, trying to fix things as unobtrusively as possible. Spent forever speaking without being heard unless it suited others. Sometimes,  it was so frustrating  that I screamed until I fell silent, simply tired of expending useless effort.  What is the point of losing my voice repeating myself? The only one getting annoyed was me.

I’m only a vessel.  Simply a jar that has finally run dry.  Today, after another day of taking the brunt of more negative noise, I reached in to grab a handful of happy for myself, desperate for some reason to hold on and you. You stood there and laughed behind your hand while I lamely tried to grasp a rainbow and instead  found only crumbs.

I wonder if you know how much I hate you.   You think you know,  but you don’t,  not yet.

Pay.  Attention.

The soul needs replenishing now and then. It needs to be refilled too, and though giving oneself to another is its own reward, a body requires more. It needs to feel love in return or that heart dies. It just fades away. A soul needs more than darkness and  bullshit.  The things I asked for would have cost nothing in monetary value, but rather a fortune in effort to show that more than personal gratification mattered.

But instead, after breaking down and showing you my wounds and thick still weeping scars, I was treated to more of the same neglectful sarcasm.  Stabbing words that were thrown – they had no basis in fact – blaring lies that should the revisionist history be discarded and reality truly considered, would be plain as your forked tongue

You lying sack of shit

I’ve burned away so much time that can never be regained.  Wasted,  like the breath it’s taken not to sigh and snap your fucking neck. Wasted breath and wasted words; it’s all for not when the results of self-centred indifference have been slammed into your  consciousness at long last

Everything is fine so long as the story suited your phantasy. As long as the tale always followed your storyline.  As long as that happened, life was a carnival; except it never was. It stopped being amusing on our honeymoon.  It’s been a horror freak show from the get go, and payment for participating in this sick and twisted game of yours is another machete in the gut instead of a kiss and a grope at the end.

You see, nothing can be fixed when only one tries. It’s hardly a relationship when it becomes about indentured servitude rather than a partnership. Nothing will change because it can’t. The collar chafes  –  I’m not getting  any younger, and frankly? I’m tired of your  narcissistic crap,

What’s wrong?  Is a little water going to kill you?

What a pussy you turned out to be

You left me empty  The jar of self holds only air now and there’s nothing left to fill it up again.  It’s not cracked, any more than it was before – not broken in any way,  just empty.   That’s why we are here, or rather,  you are.

shut up cunt

Do you know how it felt, after  months and years of begging to deaf eyes and to blind hearts, to be told that I was nonexistent, invisible?   It hurt, a lot.   It was also evidentiary proof of the suspicions I’d long-held.

Always easier to play the blame game than to admit a failing or several in your case, isn’t it?  Stop looking at me that way  It doesn’t make my chest burst in pride to see you this way.  The body I used to crave day and night, naked and shivering, bound and unable to move in the growing tide makes me happy.   It also makes me cringe because I know there’s no choice really.  Sad though it is, people like you never learn the easy way.  No, no you don’t

Now, it’s time to look to the horizon and beyond.  Stories end. Sometimes there’s a new beginning just past one’s line of sight;  sometimes, like for you, it’s just over.  It won’t be a comfortable experience;  I can promise you that, but you won’t be entirely alone.  I’ll be sitting right up there,  and my investors will be watching via live stream, right about…now.

“Good evening gentlemen and Ms.  Langston and welcome.  I’ll be with you shortly.”

Don’t be rude asswipe – say hello!!

It’s really not worth the struggle, you know.  Sooner or later, you will get tired.  Just think of the water as replenishment, and drink it down, let it fill you.

And remember how you left me empty.”

©MelanieMcCurdie2016

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