Page 17 of Warmer, Colder

Things like watching the woman you’ve loved for twelve years go into the bedroom of a man who doesn’t deserve her. Things like listening to the repulsive grunts of two unworthy pieces of shit getting off on what must surely be the most lackluster sex of her life—she didn’t make a single sound. Not like the whimpers that spill from her mouth when I touch her.

The dagger of betrayal twists deeply in my gut.Was she so desperate to erase the feel of my touch? Did it make her so disgusted to experience pleasure at my hand?The sweetness of tonight’s small victory turns sour with the slow leak of blood that’s contaminating it.

That’s what I get for sticking around somewhere I don’t belong. If I hadn’t snuck into the upstairs bathroom to extract her menstrual blood from the toy, I wouldn’t have had to bear witness to such treachery. My fist tightens around the concoction I’ve made with moon water, mica, and jasmine oil, tinged pink with her blood. My arm shakes with the restraint I have to exert not to crush it in my bare hand or smash it against the wall.

But instead of doing either, I find a sliver of composure and force myself to put one foot in front of the other until I’m outthe front door. In seething silence, I drive home taking turns almost too quickly and paying little attention to the suggestions of the signage. Their greedy, satisfied grunts are a loop, intent on driving me insane with jealousy and frustration even as I lay in my bed.

Hour after hour it plagues me. I toss and turn, trying desperately to escape the ugly truth that attempts to confront me. I pace the length of my room, fruitlessly losing the race against the devastating conclusions my mind jumps to. I go out on the balcony, sucking in the fresh air that’s free of the pollutants of my resentfulness. No matter what I do, nothing chases away the sounds of them inside her.

Is that what it’s like being with straight men? Dispassionate mediocrity?I thank the goddess that I’ve never had to experience that firsthand. Part of me feels sorry for myself and what I had the misfortune of overhearing—haven’t I been devoted in my love, haven’t I followed the path set before me—but mostly I want to chop off every finger they laid on her…among other things.

Instead of turning to homicide, I do the mature thing and decide to lean on Aphrodite in my time of need. It’s a big ask, but I have just the offering—I’ve been waiting to gift it for when I request something this generous. I can’t think of a better occasion.

Pulling out the black velvet box, I open it and present the gold chainmail necklace on her altar. Dainty pearls and diamonds dangle from the jewelry and at the center hangs a gold heart. The candles flicker higher.

“Please, hear what I ask of you. Don’t beseech me.I beg of you.” I attempt to steady my breath so I can explain myself clearly. “I need her all to myself. I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t live without her.” I’m on my knees, head pressed into the wooden ledge of the small table where the altar sits, my eyesglued to the steady flames of the candles, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment, for some sign that my plea has been heard. “I’ve been patient. There must be a way to get Nate, to get them out of the way. There has to be a way for us to be together once and for all. Please help me.” Minutes pass and my eyes begin to sting with the forcefulness with which I hold them open and how much I resist each blink. I just need a sign.

One. Little. Sign.

When an hour passes, I can’t interpret the answer as anything but no. But I don’t accept it. I won’t. I can’t.

“Are you going to abandon me in my time of need like everyone else?” There’s no stopping the exhumation of my insecurities that insult everything we’ve built. “I thought you were the one who was going to love me unconditionally. You were supposed to be different,” I blow out the candles with tear-drenched lips, leaving me in a void of my darkest thoughts.

And there in the pitch black, lost in the bleakness of my melancholy, I’m surrounded by the childish laughter of my cruel peers. Voices layered over one another creep closer and closer, surrounding me in a ring of torment, but above all the noise, one stands out above them all.

Starting out barely above a whisper, Becca’s last words to me before our friendship imploded, worm their way into my ear.“I just don’t feel that way about you.”With each repetition, the mimicry of Becca’s twelve-year-old voice grows louder and louder, until the screaming makes my eardrums quake. Folding my pillow over my head, I attempt to drown it out, but it remains persistent throughout the entire night.

The second the sun rises, I’m out the door. Despondent and exhausted, I barely register the cars that zoom past me or the lights that dictate my movements on my way to deliver my message. And by deliver, I mean chuck the envelope holding the devastated words of Sappho into her yard as I drive by sobbing.

But me you have forgotten.

Or you love some man more than me.

November 2nd, 2014 – Death Day

Cut off from Becca and Aphrodite, I find myself adrift and easy prey to the parts of the past that are insistent on haunting me.

“Poor Ana Eden.”A disembodied voice travels from the left corner of my ceiling.“Nobody wants you.”The cutting words of my middle school bully are resurrected. “Nobody likes you.”It’s coming from right above me.“And even more pathetic, nobody loves you.”Coldness descends on me, heavy and persistent as it hovers over my body.

With a quickness, I flip on the light.

But there’s no demonic figure perching on my chest. There’s no intruder standing in the corner. It’s just me and my memories, crawling up the walls together. As maddening as it might be, maybe they’re right. Everyone has let me down. My goddess. My love. My best friend. My father. My mother. Over and over, everyone I put my faith in abandons me.

I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this. All I want is to be loved as I am. Is that such a horrible thing to expect? Is it too much to ask?

The negative thoughts grow hands, cranking my emotions higher and higher, until they explode like a jack-in-the-box, all of the pain expelling outward in an outburst that shocks even me. The air around me pulses upon impact, and it’s all thrown back at me.

Nobody, nobody, nobody

Loves, loves, loves

You, you, you

The taunting words echo from every corner, dripping with malice. I cross the room, attempting to escape, but the voice follows, provoking me with each step.

Sad

Alone

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