𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐀𝐍, guy germaine (✓)

04. shame

july 27th, 2009

dear guy,

remember that one summer we spent together? i struck a deal with my father and he reluctantly agreed to let me go to the junior goodwill games with you and the rest of the ducks. to this day, i still have got no idea how i managed that.
after practices, we'd pretend we were going back to the rooms, but like delinquents, we snuck out and got pizza and ice cream and walked hand in hand under the hot summer air. it was sweltering, and at some points, i had even longed to go home, where it was cooler. but i forgot all about that when i was with you, because i didn't want to be anywhere away from something so golden.
that's what you and i were. we were golden. but it was a blinding, incomparable sort of golden that didn't even hold a candle to my stacks of jewelry and diamonds. it was a real, raw, sort of golden, the stuff of sunsets and the smell of grass. but eventually, midnight descended and i was stripped of my happiness, my love, my dearest companion, and my humanity.
it feels like you've died, and i am left to mourn a beautiful thing. but what's arguably even more painful is that fact that you're out there somewhere, and i've no clue whether or not you've changed, whether or not you've married, or whether or not you still love me like i do for you.
i have always believed that love is an irreversible thing. you can fall out of love with someone, but if you ever loved them, that will never go away.
but my pain never ceases, because i both love you and am in love with you. every kiss that i must share with david drives the stake further into my heart.
i took off my ring, and started wearing clothing with sleeves that went past my fingers to conceal it. it sounds rather dramatic, i understand, but that piece of diamond was burning a hole through my hand.

i feel such shame. and i hate that i do. because i know i haven't done anything wrong. the people i have hurt haven't been slapped by my own hand. it was my father, and it was my husband who took everyone away from me, and took me away from everyone.
but still, the artfully-curled, manipulating grins they wear make me feel as if i have erred somehow.

i hate them.
i hate them.
i hate them.
i hate them.

i hate me, and i hate what they've done to me.

today, i looked in the mirror, and my features looked foreign to me. i look thin and pale and tired and miserable. i am damned to be like this for the rest of my life.

i will continue to look out the window, waiting. waiting for a star to descend into my hand, a knock at the door with a familiar face behind it, and for you to return. i know it is a wish that cannot be granted.

but still, i yearn for you, and for my life.

love, gracie.