The Dance Between Darkness and Light (girlxgirl)

Alison

I was right. I should have tried harder. I should never have dropped my guard and let her in. Why did I let myself do that? I should have known better, I should have fucking known. In my head, watching Tom kiss her, whisper in her ear, touch her. I wanted to scream, to run out there and tell him he doesn't deserve her. To scold him and tell him what an idiot he is. Em is this kind and gentle person with so much depth, heart, soul he'll never understand.  He doesn't know her the way I do. He can't make her feel the way I make her feel.

I want to tell him that in my mind, she's not his.

I don't think any of those words or phrases can possibly do my broken heart justice. I don't think I really have the words to tell anyone how seeing that made me feel. Except that I felt like I was dying inside. Like my very soul cracked. Like I was empty.

I should never have slept with Em. I never should have let myself fall for her. I never should have let Mya get close to her. I wish I'd never met her.

But I can't take any of that back. I fell for her, and now I'm the one who is hurt. Broken.

I was worried for Emily when I saw Tom waiting outside our classroom, that's why I lingered near the door and watched through the side light.  I wish I hadn't, though, because I heard every last word he whispered in her ear. I could imagine the things he wanted to do to her, because I had already done them with her. All night and early that morning. Seeing Tom hug her, his hands on her?

I was instantly jealous. And if you could see what I saw? It was like Tom flicked a switch on her back. The Emily that I loved, cared for? Gone, vanished. I could see it in her eyes, her face, the way she acted toward me the second Tom left her in the hall. I feel cheated, like he erased everything I had with her in a fleeting moment.

But I don't have a right to feel cheated.

Emily isn't mine, she was never mine. Not even when she was in my bed. Who am I kidding? She's so young, how could I be so foolish in this, so naive? If I'm being perfectly honest with you, with myself? I started grieving before I ever even walked away from the window and Tom was telling her to invite me over that night.

I knew that was never going to happen.

That whole day was exquisitely painful. The emotional high was still pulsing inside me from the recall of Emily intimately touching my body, bringing me over the edge. Then the thought of Tom showing up would feel like a dull ache throbbing inside my chest. Inside my heart. Emily was kind once he left, but things between us were immediately different.

We were back to coworkers again with separate lives and surface level conversations. Yes, we still teach together flawlessly, but that's where we end. We haven't hung out together outside of work since the day I divorced Jack. That was the best and worst day of my life for reasons I can't articulate into words for you. It's too painful to think about, and I'm tired of feeling sad and having to put on a happy face for Mya.

When do I get to be sad? I don't know.

Mya asks about Emily constantly. She doesn't understand, she just thinks Emily is busy and can't come over. I'm so broken inside over this, I get upset when Mya brings her up.

Even though I haven't been hanging out with Em, I know she's not the same inside or out. I know because I'm not either. I don't know what she's thinking or doing or trying to do?  It's like she's toying with my emotions, but I don't think she's doing it on purpose.  Everything she wears to work leaves me feeling hot from the moment she walks in the room.  It's like her clothes are tighter now?  Or maybe just more form fitting?  I don't know, but everything she wears is perfection.  I know I don't look that good at work.  I see her out running later in the evenings, too.  Usually Mya spots her if we are on our way somewhere.  And we've run into her and Tom a few times at the store, too.  Em always seems to pull him a little closer when we see each other, like she's trying to prove something to herself.