I'd Rather Wonder

"I'd rather wonder." The words stare right back at me as I inspect them in my mind's eye. I briefly wonder myself if I'll get any sleep tonight before work in the morning, but with the flurry of thoughts pelting my consciousness similar to pavement during a rain storm I already know the answer to that rhetorical question. Despite my best efforts to keep my eyes shut I force one open and check my phone, incidentally like many people my age also my alarm clock. 2:29 AM greets my one open eye and causes slight discomfort to the other as the brightness floods my room before I flip the phone face down on the bed and shroud myself in darkness once again.

I don't lay down and stare at my ceiling counting the currently non existent tiles because I am bereft of both light and sight(my glasses or contact lenses) and currently I'm perfectly happy with that. I also definitely don't play back the conversation for the hundredth time in my head that had occurred not too long ago. Sure, in a 24 hour period 7 hours is a pretty long stretch of time. But in the grand scheme compared to how long I've been alive now, 7 hours is just a pebble compared to the slowly forming mountain that I call my life. A very short mountain that's looking a lot more lonely and feeling particularly bitter and sad, but surely it's just a plateau before I rise again...Right? I let out the first audible noise in almost eight minutes and it's a wordless sound that could be interpreted to be frustration, anger, sorrow, or if I were in my bathroom, constipation. The last thought brings me no mirth, even as I angrily smile at my mind taking steps to correct my terrible mood.

I sigh softly as I get up and head towards the bathroom speaking of. I don't bother turning on the light as I could navigate there even with my eyes closed. I opt to keep one open just in case the past me decided to be particularly vindictive and leave a surprise for the present me because that jerk knew I wouldn't remember in my emotional turbulence. Well my flight to the bathroom is uneventful and so is the return flight home to Bed International. I dock into the bay and pull my sheets over me, subconsciously I've made plane noises in a small attempt to cheer myself up. The childish sight of me in the dark making plane noises as I walk back from my bathroom suddenly strikes me at best as a minor mental disorder and at worst a serious indicator I'm about to be on the 5 o'clock news the next day for trying to murder a lot of people in a psychotic breakdown. I quickly and efficiently silence my demons the only way I know how; self loathing and pain. I pick up my phone and flip the unlock screen before I see their face again. I don't reach out and touch it, that would be silly.

Instead, I just stare my former lover in their eyes and recall back to when they took this special photo just for me. Back to when I was the only one that had the key to their heart, before I did what every human in history does when they have the power to break someone and I squeezed until there wasn't anything left. There's a part of me that knows they did the same too, we both didn't mean it and we both know that. But it doesn't change the fact our feelings were so intense even the slightest offense felt like a stab in the back. I feel warmth rushing to my face at an intimate memory, quickly followed by shame, sorrow, desire and anger. Not necessarily in that order because they do like to shuffle around and mix things up, like an imaginary harem most 13 year olds picture they'll have when they're rich and successful.

I recall our conversation now, how we argued and bitterly used all of the weapons on hand we said we never would. How we screamed and cried, and in some weird moments of arguing we always had started to seduce the other before it got back to us being argumentative again. Chemistry as it turns out did us a very solid backhanded compliment. We couldn't get enough of each other when we were close by, problem was is that we both felt that we weren't taken seriously despite knowing the other only wanted to make them feel loved. So we bumbled our way into one more bad decision after another, we kept putting things aside and we didn't talk. Or we did but not enough. And then we were both just so tired and lonely and frustrated the other wasn't there. But we still held on inside our hearts, at least until today.

We had that conversation again. You know, the one some couples have when one wants to keep doing something the other doesn't approve of for various reasons. Well in my case it was my job. No, it wasn’t a job. Job means just over broke. I was pursuing a profession and a career and I wanted to take them along with me. But my lover was adamant in not wanting to settle down before 24 because they wanted to know who they were. Even though we spent countless hours telling each other particularly embarrassing lovely things or things more intimate. I'd rather keep those to myself and leave to the collective imagination of whoever finds this.

But, my profession. In hindsight I may have been blinded by it all, but at the time I knew I loved them and my career with equal fervor. They were both mysteries I wanted to explore at my leisure; which in my case meant headfirst as hard and fast as I could and as much as they'd let me. Their problem with it wasn't unfounded though and I sympathized with them even if I felt subconsciously they were being selfish. "You could die." Well everyone dies, if I die then it'll be on my terms fighting for what I believe in. Wow, what an incredibly stupid thing to say. I thought I was the spitting image of valor at the time when I was really the textbook definition of idiocy.

"I don't think I'm ready to take this step." Why not? We always talk about how many kids we want and the house and all of that. Why aren't we ready to spend the rest of our lives together despite having control over them now for an incredibly limited period of time?

"I'm sorry but we've just been growing distant. I've messed up and you never want to address the issue and you want to pretend it's okay when it's killing you inside. This isn't healthy love." Well love hurts right? I'll be fine, just don't worry about me crying or sobbing from time to time. Just stay with me so I can resent you more for doing things you've swore you never would and have apologized for and want to make amends, but I deny you that closure so I can stab back in my own selfish way.

"If we do get married you know it'll make me the happiest person in the world. We'll have a child or two by then and the house we talked about. But I don't want to live in a world where I have to explain to the kids why you never came back home. Even if it pains me, I'd rather wonder about us than that alternative."

I remember now, as you spoke those words with such sorrow and conviction, in comparison my response was shocked and subdued. "You'd rather wonder huh?" My heart felt so heavy as it began to pound furiously, causing a headache to form at the sudden influx of blood flowing through me. Then I remember crying and yelling at you, well more crying than yelling, although I was so distraught everything just blended in together. We broke down in that moment and even though I knew I'd regret it after the fact I didn't hold back the sorrow and fury deep inside of me. It's such a weird dichotomy being completely aware of making a horrible decision, yet also being unable to stop yourself. But as with any event, it starts to draw to the conclusion. I recall the tears in your eyes as we hung up and ended that conversation the only way it could have been resolved. Mutual pain and regret over a litany of words we should have said to steer it away from going down that path. The feelings from before are lessened comparatively, but the difference would only be that of a monsoon to a raging storm. Just as they threaten to overwhelm me and draw me back into that chaotic whirlpool of emotion, that's when my body kicks in and suddenly, nothing.

I had always hated and loved my coping mechanism to function so perfectly it rid me of extreme emotions both good and bad. Fury became annoyance. Sorrow became sadness. The aches and pains that came from bawling your eyes out were suddenly gone as if it were all a fever dream. It cleared my mind up, giving me the ability to determine the best course of action to take, long after it would have done me any good. Well you know what they say about hindsight. My finger touches the button on the side of my phone before your picture winks out of existence, the screen going dark extinguishing the only source of illumination as I return my room to the endless void. In a few moments that simultaneously feel like forever and no time at all my eyes adjust again as I stare at the ceiling. I know as the days go by this blow to my heart will soften and we'll most likely start talking again. You'll find your own ways to deal with this pathos and unknown to me at the time I'd try unsuccessfully to drown out the memory of you through copious amounts of liquor. How wise I thought myself to be that I wouldn't fall into that mistake and I'd keep myself preoccupied with something productive instead.

Regardless, none of these thoughts help me now as I wrap myself in my blankets and bury half of my face into a pillow. My one eye burns a hole into the phone as if doing so would make you suddenly send me a message. I liked to believe I knew full well that you were probably asleep too. Or more likely doing exactly what I'm doing and dissecting the memory apart as if a hidden truth will emerge miraculously and breathe insight into my brain giving me the correct answer that will bring you back. I let out a quiet sigh and close my exposed eye, trying to force myself to fall asleep on the spot, but it's a futile effort. Sleep is a fickle mistress and I have not garnered her favor enough to visit on a moment's notice. As my thoughts start to travel down the memories we made together, I too start to wonder what could have been of us, before I give into my exhaustion and pass out.