Nora Kinkaid Wants Her Life Back

I Can See Your Soul

I can see other people's souls. Oliver's was cornflower blue. When I showed my soul to his, mine lit up super bright like a Christmas tree. It made his shine brighter but it was dull before it saw and felt mine. It was almost non-essential with how average it was. Ben's was a ball that had been cracked in half. It was gray marble in color and texture and my soul wanted to fill the crevice but knew it couldn't. The sad part was Ben's soul was good before the crack. It now looked and felt damaged. Oliver's new girlfriend's soul felt sticky and it was dark purple goop. I had to use flour to get it off my hands. It wasn't a ball contained, it spread out and attached to everything. Todd soul was pure black and I didn't go near it.

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The day after seeing Ben, I met Todd for dinner. We had a date scheduled and I thought it would be weird if I cancelled. I think now I just wanted to know how far Darkness went. During dinner we drank wine and talked about bad things... "bad" being all the things he told me happened to him like the reasons women broke up with him, the other women he had taken care of. Couldn't the women in his life understand that they needed him? My skin crawled. His savior complex went beyond anything I had ever seen before. But the interesting thing is, the more time I spent at dinner, the more curious I got. I leaned into his Darkness narrative. I went so far as to tell him he should probably consider getting Reiki done so he can clear out whatever he feels haunts him. I wasn't in my right mind. I never am when Darkness has taken root.

We asked for the check and I could have left. I don't know why I didn't leave. I flagged a cab and he climbed in and I thought, it's okay. I can hope out and walk home. It's not late, I'll be fine. But I didn't say anything and when we pulled up in front of his hotel, I followed him inside. The moment he closed the door I felt trapped. The hotel room was small, no larger than three hundred square feet. I had cracked a joke as we entered the room and when I went into the bathroom, he yelled at me through the door. He literally screamed at me that "Women are always telling me what I need. But I don't need it. I just need you to leave me the hell alone."

I sat on the toilet and physically shuddered. I checked that the door was locked but I had left my phone outside on the bed. I took my time washing my hands and when I came out he was apologetic. He lunged at me and we started making out. I stayed upright. I was trying to figure out how to grab my bag and make it to the door without him grabbing me. Eventually I stopped fighting it. I buried my internal fight or flight reflex way down in my soul and I let him do what he wanted. I didn't even take all of my clothes off. Just the bottoms. He seemed so eager I just hoped it would be over soon. It was fast and I didn't care. I kept looking at the TV and thinking, I will never watch Real Housewives of New York again.

I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible but I thought he would be mad if I left. He was almost twice my size. I let myself be kissed by someone I didn't want to kiss me. I let him push me onto the bed and spread my legs and I let him thrust inside of me with careless abandon. When it was over I told him I had to go because it was late. He begged me to stay, he wrapped me in an embrace that felt too tight for comfort. He wrapped me from behind and his hands found my wrists. When I tried to ease out of it gently they tightened more. I forced my body to relax and wiggled my butt against his groin. If he thought he could get some again maybe I could get out. It worked. He moved his hands towards my waist and I forced myself to make out with him as I buttoned my jeans and my shirt. I kept oscillating between kissing him and putting things back on. It felt like trying to distract a predator. Here watch me use my body to entice you while I get myself to safety. Eventually I had everything on and I gave him one last kiss and lunged for the door. I fled the room and got to the elevator. I tried not to make eye contact with the couple staying a few rooms down. I didn't want them to see my weakness. I probably just looked like some girl leaving a room. Not someone who had just let herself be violated because she was afraid of what else might happen.

I walked as quickly as I could out of the hotel and the moment I hit fresh air I called Oliver. I had no idea what I was doing I just knew I needed to talk to someone. It was past midnight and there were no cabs on the street. It was only a few blocks home so I called him under the premise that I needed someone to talk to. I was surprised when he answered and even more surprised at the sob that caught in my throat.

"Hey what's up?" His voice sounded guarded and hollow. It didn't sound like him at all.

"Oh hey, I wasn't expecting you to answer. What are you doing up this late?" I tried to keep my tone even and light. I didn't want him to know I was scared.

"I'm building a new desk for my room. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, no. I just. I'm walking home." I must have sounded winded. My breathing was still ragged.

"Is it okay if you talk to me until I get there? It's only a few blocks." He paused and I could hear him hammering something into place.

"Yea sure no problem. Are you sure you're alright?" His care coursed through me and I felt horrible. I felt disgusting and used, as if Oliver would never want to touch me again.

"Um" I felt the bile rise up in my chest, my body betraying my mind's will to put this away for good.

"Yea it's fine I just slept with someone I shouldn't have. I just didn't know what to do." I heard the lengthy pause. I knew he couldn't understand what had just happened. He read it as: she's calling me because she slept with someone and misses me.

He couldn't possibly know I was calling him because I thought I was going to be harmed.

Which I guess maybe I was? I'm not sure. I felt absurd telling him this. I was a grown woman. Why was I confessing to my ex-boyfriend at midnight on a Friday that I felt scared for who I was becoming and the choices I was making. I felt myself sink further down into the narrative of "women he regrets dating." It felt like every interaction we had was getting worse and worse. There was no upside to me calling him. I thought it would be comforting but it hurt more to hear the emptiness in his voice.

He didn't respond so I quickly changed the subject.

"How are you? How are things?"

"Things are good, work is good. Are you almost home?" He was eager to get off the phone.

"Yea only one more block, three minutes tops. So work is good? That's great. Glad you're enjoying it." I was rushing. I knew he didn't want to talk to me. I was becoming more of a burden than I had anticipated.

"Yea listen. Everything is going well. I actually started seeing someone." I stopped short in front of my building. I gasped out loud.

"Oh. Wow that's great. I'm happy for you." I didn't feel happy. I didn't even feel the one two punch of hurt I would normally feel with an ex. This felt wildly more painful.

"Yea she's in tech sales, we just started going out. It's going well. I like her." I couldn't place it at the time but his words felt calculated. I thought it was because he felt weird telling me about his new girlfriend. I mean anyone would feel weird about that in this situation. But she was in the room. She was listening to our conversation and suddenly it all made sense.

We said our goodbyes and I hung up. I walked into my bedroom and put my phone down then picked it up. I immediately texted him.

"Thanks for answering the phone. I'm really happy for you that you've met someone new. Obviously it hurts like hell to hear it but I wish nothing but happiness for you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me and I was an idiot to ruin it."

He waited until the next morning to respond, "Hey don't beat yourself up. We both played a part in it failing to work. But thanks. I hope you find someone great too. You deserve it. Be well."

It felt like a send-off and I was okay about it. I deserved it. But the feeling that it wasn't his energy wouldn't leave me. It didn't feel like him. It felt manipulated and cold, almost contrived.