For Glory

Midnight has passed and the moon is just a sliver in the sky above her.  At Glory Nobel’s 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 Glory believed that they would spend their lives together on a beach exactly like this one.

She nods to the well muscled young men who haul her husband to his feet and drop him unceremoniously into the hole they’d dug in the sand, and when he held his own weight, began filling in the spaces with wet sand.  Theo groans and she smiles brightly when his eyes flutter open and fix narrowly on hers.

“Comfortable, Darling?” she nosily inquires, laughing at the low growl he responds with.  Life on the beach would have been a delight but naturally, life has had its little jokes and their marriage was no exception.  It was like being promised a box of your favorite 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 honor. He blamed the booze and begged her to forgive him. Glory had punched the hell out of her former friend and then she’d foolishly forgiven him.  It was their anniversary, and 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 as a surprise for later.

But as is always the way with Theo, 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.  He guzzled the bottle of wine, leaving her only with the half initial glass, and belched grossly when he was through.

Glory had grown hoarse over the years, trying to fix things as unobtrusively as possible, and had spent forever speaking without being heard unless it suited others. Sometimes,  it was so frustrating  that she screamed until she fell silent, simply tired of expending useless effort. What is the point of losing her voice repeating herself? The only one getting annoyed was her.

“I’m only a vessel.  Simply a jar that has finally run dry,” she tells herself.  Today, after another day of taking the brunt of more negative noise, Glory reached in to grab a handful of happy just for her, desperate for some reason to hold on and you. Theo stood there and laughed behind his hand while she 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,  Theo,  but you don’t,  not yet.  Pay.  Attention.  Are you listening, you waste of space? 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 you 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 I finally broke down and showed you my wounds and still weeping scars, you treated me to only more of the same neglectful sarcasm.  The stabbing words that you throw – they have no basis in fact, by the way – are 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-centered indifference have had to be slammed into your consciousness. I think maybe you get it,  at long last.

Everything was fine, so long as the story suited your phantasy. As long as the tale always followed your story-line.  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, Theo, 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, and I hate you for it.  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.

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, either.”

The body she used to crave day and night, naked and shivering, bound and unable to move in the growing tide makes her happy.   It also makes her cringe because she knows that there is no choice really.  Sad though it is, people like Theo never learn the easy way.

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!!” 

Of course, he doesn’t, instead choosing to squirm and grunt, taking the time to spit profanity at me.  The dumbass is too stupid to realize that he is a breathing dead man.

“It’s really not worth the struggle, you know.  Sooner or later, you will get tired, Theo.  Just consider the ocean as replenishment, and drink it down, let it fill you.  The salt will kill the evil in  you, at least there is that.  When you get to where you are going, remember to take credit for your appearance there.

Lady and Gentleman, high tide is coming in.  Please feel free to place your wagers.”

©MelanieMcCurdie2018

The Doppleganger's Web
Coming in 2019 to Amazon in eBook and Paperback 
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: