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I Only Have a Memory of Love

A Story Many Face of a Life Taken by a Relationship

By BPublished 2 years ago 4 min read
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I Only Have a Memory of Love
Photo by Paul Streltsov on Unsplash

"Are you awake?"

He takes his cupped hand to my upper arm as I lay facing inwards on the sofa. His grasp isn't strong enough to leave marks under my thinned t-shirt sleeve. I hear every word he is saying as clear as day, but I dare not do anything to alert him of this. As he pushes my body forward to test how asleep I actually am, I allow my body to rock forward and back graciously in his grip. He accepts this display of the stillness of life as his answer. Drunkenly sauntering towards the stairs, I do not expect him to turn back. I open my eyes to the blackness. I'll stay alone in this living room for tonight, just as I've truly lived alone in his house for what feels like a century now.

The beginning of this relationship started off as they usually do. He was so similar to me, yet so different than me too. I loved the witty rapport that has now soured into insults. My attitude towards him taking me as I am, or leaving me as is, has drawn him in time after time. I yearn for those intermittent "off-again" periods in our relationship. However, he now calls my bluff when I make these threats to leave since I've trapped myself in this prison. The place he calls a fortress was not in my cards. I was not destined to be here as becomes more apparent by the enforcing of rules upon me. It is almost as if I am just along for the ride, but it is a ride I paid greatly to be on. The money I contribute to live in this space has little significance compared to the emotional tumult.

I've awoken earlier than him. After doing the dishes, I realize I do not want to be inside any longer. Not disturbing the sleeping giant, I grab some clothes from the laundry basket downstairs and head to the garage to find a rake. Spring has dawned and there is movement in the air again. There is room for growth and the unexpected. It is not permanent like winter. I relate most to fall. Fall is still while it waits for the inevitable. The leaves have fallen to the ground and there is a golden shimmer of dust in the air of the debris that fell before it. These are the memories of this past year, a life strewn out around you. I want to bask in the light and breathe in the remnants of the dust before it settles too. Winter is quick to overcome this season though. Even early growth in spring can be seemingly halted by death's knock on the door even now as temperatures rise and fall suddenly.

As I repeat the motions of raking, I see his car pull out of the garage from the corner of my eye. I look up as he is driving toward the front lawn to exit the driveway. He only slows to put his hand up and continues forward. I mimic this obligatory action. One side of his thinly pursed lips appeared to turn upward as he stared from me back to the road. I am certain my expression isn't one of happiness. I look down to what I am wearing and make no sense of his expression. I continue raking up the past years' memories that have crept into this new beginning. Perhaps, he is holding onto the far away memories of the beginning of our love. Neither of us appears to have the will to end this.

I think about the inevitability of our inescapable future. I've pleaded before for him to go to couples counseling, which he rejected by saying he wouldn't go. Hearing my 'I feel' statements, he determined them foolish. His focus has been on other things, while my interest has been set on saving our relationship to save myself. These memories swirl in my mind as if the leaves were picked up in the wind to be given new life. I crouch down promptly bringing the head of the rake down on the unmoving leaves in front of me. I raise it to look over the differences in the leaves, seeing the lines, holes, all of their characteristics. These aren't just memories from this relationship but also others from the past.

I push myself past my comfort zone. New ideas will have to make way as I can only save myself now. Instead of being silenced, I should've been shouting, "You're killing me!" I scream this out loud. These words are to have meaning, but to no avail! These words mean nothing to nobody, other than myself, as there is no physical damage done to my body. This smooth opaque porcelain blocks the dimmed light of my spirit. I try to envision a future without this person I once thought of as my best friend. The endings I imagine are limitless. From harassment by his family, or a PFA against him, to a police officer telling me, "You should learn to defend yourself." How is it supposed to end? I jump as I am startled by all the leaves that have piled up behind me, the memories of a life I've lived. I try to look for a succinct memory that can also be my ending. I crawl into the leaf pile and welcome this darkness as memories overtake me.

Short Story
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