Stars & Fingertips

Her

She is nameless.

She is the rose in the field of weeds. She is the star in the middle of the black sky. She is the finger in which you have wrapped the string of your being around.

She is everything to you as you were to me.

What makes us different?

We are similar in multitudes. Yet, we are different.

She is beautiful and flawless and everything you could want.

I am nothing compared to beauty.

I am the wind that shakes the weeds. I am the moon in the blackened sky. I am the string around your finger, and I have been cut away.

I had infiltrated the story of you and her.

It began last year in the fall. You had almost kissed her while you danced, and that started a spark that long died out before the break.

The moment your story began my hopes of getting to know you withered away; you were a taken man, and I was not to be a bother.

You and her were perfection and an annoyance and everything was the same disappointment until spring.

In the dark, face to face, your lips almost connected with mine.

Weeks later, hidden away in a back hallway, your lips brushed mine. The very same day, our naked beings connected and gone was both of our innocence's.

Then, a week later, "Let's pretend it never happened."

Then, nothing for months. The summer brought long evasive nights of you in my dreams. I would wake up to the sound of silence as tears fell from my eyes and my sobs made the oxygen hard to swallow. Panicking over you had become a nightly ritual that I could not defer.

While I was suffering you were loving others. Not one, not two: three or more. One of them was her. She believed, as she still does, that you had lost your innocence with her, not me.

You and I both know the truth.

I sit here and write this while you are with her. Your company occurs in front of me each and every day and the only escape I have is home, yet this escape has been infiltrated. You have laid in my bed and altered the essence of the atmosphere and my sheets. Water cannot take away memories, as tears do not take away pain.

You know what I would love to do?

I would love to tell her. I would love to go right up to her face and say "HE CHEATED ON YOU" and the look on her face would not bring me pleasure, but your heartbreak would. The way your stomach would twist as you knew that you had ruined the one thing that you had ever cared about would bring a smile to my lips. I want you to suffer; I want you to burn. I want you to lay in your bed and cry. I want you to go through all of your messages with her and wonder what you have done to lose something so precious. I want you to have to regret everything.

Most of all I want you to sit in silence. I want you to try communication, I want you to pour your heart out to her and you get nothing in return. I want you to get on your knees and grovel for forgiveness to only receive a kick in the face. I want you to clutch your sheets as you throw up from all of the salt spilling down your face. I want your heart to feel so empty that you do not even feel it anymore and that you cannot save yourself.

Then, I want her to come back. I want her to say that it would be alright to hold you again, to love you again in the same way. I want her to smile at you and wink at you and make you feel as if you could get another chance. Then, after you insure her of your hesitations and that you cannot even bear the sight of her leaving,

I want her to leave.

I want her to leave you in your sheets clinging onto "It's not" and "I'm sorry" like these words could actually mean something more than useless syllables in the air that keep your naive heart together. I want you to have her and lose her, get her back and lose her again. I want you to feel the exact same emotions that I have felt.

For the icing on the cake, she would then fall for another man. She would be in the hands of another and you would have to watch her be loved by him every single day. You cannot escape and you cannot look away because she is beautiful and you almost feel yourself in their arms. I want you to see another man touch her shoulder and run his fingers through her hair. I want you to see everything that you have lost and I want it to hurt more than a gunshot wound. I want you to lay on the floor at night and stare up at the ceiling. Your goals are gone and so is your happiness. I want you to cry so hard that you cannot breathe. I want you to hurt so badly that you cannot put yourself back together again.

I also want you to know that she is fine and that you were nothing but an object. I want her to inadvertently say that you had just been for sex and that was all you were good for. You were only there to satisfy her and the feelings and emotions you developed were nothing but your imagination. She assured these feelings to keep you open.

I want you to think that you were nothing to her, as you have made me believe that I was nothing to you.