New Discoveries

Gone

extended version.

“I have secrets that I keep locked away in a place that you will never find. It’s for me only. Don’t you understand?”

She spoke so easily, as if it didn’t really matter, but in some profound way unbeknownst to me, it did. I don’t even know how the conversation shifted to the topic of secrecy, but she always had a way of making me feel like I was the one who should be locked away in the loony bin. Not her. She just always seems so lucid and understanding.

“You will never know the whereabouts of my hidden sock puppets. I can’t just tell you where they are! They will be angry and bite you. Its for your own protection pear, pear, Perry!”

Then she says something crazy again, like that, eyes all wide and wild as her head juts at an angle and I snap back into reality.

I take in the dank and noisy room that I’ve gotten used to tuning out since my years of coming here. I clear away the tunnel vision that happens every time I see her waiting eyes and look around at the other tattered faces in the room. I see too many pairs of sunken eyes lost in their own bubbles before my attention is once again falling on the woman in front of me. Her eyes are almost pleading now and I respond to her unavoidable insanity.

“I know Kendra, I know. Hidden puppets stay hidden.” I soothe, as I pat her head and pull her towards me. I hold her tight and smooth her tangled hair with a kiss. It tickles my nose and smells like her favorite strawberry chap-stick. The scent taunts me, it consumes me, it reminds me of the good then slaps me with the truth of our situation in an instant. One of her nurses told me she’s been using it on her hair in attempts to keep her “gorgeous locks from getting chapped.” I let a single tear slide down my cheek and inhale a final deep breath as I prepare to leave… this time for good.

“This was a good visit, my sweet, I’ll see you next week? When I’m better and ready to leave?” Her face has that light to it, as it does every time she talks about leaving this place and going home.

It’s like she’s expecting me to tell her that today is that day, and when I just agree with her instead her eyes dull almost imperceptibly. I see it, though. I always do.

It takes everything in me to choke back the sobs that are threatening to escape.

“Of course, when you’re all better, I’ll be back.” I wish I was brave enough to tell her the truth, but at least my fear isn’t strong enough to feed her lies.

With that, I give her one last hug and a lingering kiss on her pouty mouth. I walk out of the door and suppress my desire to look back into her longing brown eyes. The divorce was finalized this morning, after 5 years of trying everything to get her back to being the woman I fell in love with.

My heart died with that last confirmation that my wife was gone forever.

7 Jun 2013
2

(Source: reesieboi, via thehilariousblog)

A short story:

Shirley sashayed up to a man shrouded in shredded sheets and mentioned not a word as she latched her shivering hands on each of his massive shoulders and shook him into shameful recognition.

The end.

17 May 2013

themagicaltypewriter:

dearscarlet:

Dear Scarlet,
About a month ago you asked if you could have a “circle mohawk” again. I told you to think about it because you’ve been growing your hair out for so long and I didn’t want you to regret it. On Sunday night I told you I had a hair appointment with Allison the next day. You asked if you could get your hair cut like that again, but you were laying down for bed and not supposed to be talking so I ignored you. The next day you asked twice, so I finally said I didn’t care and that you look beautiful whatever you decide. The last time your hair was like this you weren’t in school yet, I was so nervous about kids being cruel. I walked you to school on Tuesday morning and stayed awhile to make sure everything was going to go smoothly, which it did. When I picked you up you said, “Olivia liked my hair. She said she didn’t want her hair like this, but she liked mine like this. And we’re still friends. That’ just like how I don’t want to have purple hair like Allison, but I love Allison’s purple hair. You don’t have to have all the same stuff as your friends.” Wise beyond your years, baby child. I’m so proud of you and how you have the courage to be exactly who you want to be, despite any other outside influences. While we’re on the topic of gender, when I was at parent teacher conferences a few months ago a mom of this little boy approached me. She told me how he wanted to paint his nails and go to school. She let him. When he came home he said, “Scarlet loved my nails, Mom!” I’ve never been so proud.

So much love for this post. So much.