Overcoming

After all this time she decided to come here. To knock on my door and say, “Hey, babe.”

“No. No. You can’t...you can’t be...be here.” I stammer as I am trying to close the door.

She pushes it back open; a part of me wants her to come in, but a stronger part of me resists her. As she tries to touch me, I push her out the door, slam it, and bolt it without blinking. I can hear her laughing. Everything is always a game with her – why could she not just leave me alone? That’s all I ever wanted. Sure, she used to be the center of my world, but shit happened.

She lightly taps the door, looking through the peephole I see those blue diamond eyes staring back at me. I always felt that she was looking right into my soul, but instead of using that power for good – she used it for harming me in the deepest ways possible.

Those eyes though... I missed them. I had never come to the resolution that it was all a lie, a challenge to get me in her arms, her bed, for me to fall for her. Some of it had to be real...right?

“Come on, baby...” she sighs and shows dimples deeper than the ocean “I just want to talk. I’ve had a few years to think about things and I have something I want to tell you.”

I’ve heard this all before, but I so desperately want to let her in. She broke me, but she was also home for so long. She was the first one I ever truly loved. I wanted something familiar back into my arms, my heart, my bed.

“Is it too late to say sorry?”

“Yes. You should have apologized after you messaged me. You should have never...” I break off trying not to allow her to hear my cry.

“I know. I ruined you. I coaxed you into giving everything you wanted to keep precious to me. I stole a lot from you...and I know that I can’t give it back or make up for it, but I really want to say sorry. Can you please open the door, K? Please.” She seems so genuine and anxious. Maybe hearing her apologize would produce some healing?

My hand starts reaching for the deadbolt, shaking I turn and feel it loosen as I reach for the handle.

“You have two minutes.” I say with no expression staring her right in the eye. My seriousness catches her off guard. She is used to saying the things people want to hear and being right back where she wants to be.

Looking back, I should have never let her in, but I did. I made some tea. She sat on my couch. She pet my dog. Stupidly, I allowed her an inch and she, of course, ran a mile with it.

“I should have called but you have me blocked everywhere.” She’s wrong, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“K, why did you leave?” What a loaded question. “I thought you were here to apologize?” Emotionless I set a tea cup on the table in front of her.

“I am but I need to know all that I did first.”

“No. I am not going to give you more ammunition to use against me.” It’s all starting to come back to me...the lies...the deceit...the pain. I can’t do this again.

“Babe...come on...I...” she desperately searches for words and I cannot decide if it is because she didn’t think I would react this way or because she’s changed. “I really want to know, okay? I want to apologize for all of it. I want to take some of the burden. I want to feel your pain. I never meant to hurt you. I really loved you and that scared me. I also did not know how to love someone in a healthy way, but I have grown so much since then. I have been to therapy...I’ve been seeing someone new.” She sheepishly averts her eyes. Was she blushing?

I had long since forgiven her and myself for what happened during our relationship. I was resolved to the fact that she would not be my future, my world. Why did she show up now?! She is ruining the progress I had made. Sure, she might be here for valid reasons, but this can’t happen.

“I want you out of my house. Now. Thank you for coming. I appreciate the effort you made, but the best apology is to never see you again.” Tears start to stream down her face... I know I was harsh, but I can’t do this with her. I can’t walk down that dreary road again. I almost didn’t make it back the last time.

She stands never breaking eye contact. I signal towards the door. Before she reaches for the handle, I say “wait.” I cup her face in my heads, look deeply in her eyes...after all this time I have a way of properly telling her goodbye. I left without a trace, blocked her, and hid myself so that she wouldn’t find me - I had to but it was something that had always felt wrong all these years.

“I want you to know that I loved you. So deeply. I was ready and prepared to spend my life with you by my side, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t handle the deceit, the talking to other people, the emotional abuse. I should have ended it that night you hurt me and so many times before, but I thought you would change. I then realized that if someone truly loved me, they would not treat me this way.” With that I kissed her gently on the cheek, wiped away her tears and opened the door.

“I’m sorry, K. I am so sorry.” She seems so genuine. My heart almost feels sorry for her.

I give her a slight smile and watch her walk across my yard. If only that was the last time I saw her.

The next morning, I woke to a banging on my door. First, I thought it was my dog wanting out, but it was so loud that it couldn’t be him. I put on my robe and make my way to the living room.

My front door is half window/half door. This allows more natural light to come in and for me to see who is standing there while peeking around the dining room corner. It’s her. She’s back.

“What do you want? Why are you here...again?” I am beyond annoyed.

“You wanted me here.” My face turns to a questioning and disbelieving expression.

“No, I don’t. I made that perfectly clear when I kicked you out last night.” I begin to wonder if I should grab my cellphone to call the cops.

“LET ME IN, K.” She starts pounding on the door and shaking the handle. After making sure it was deadbolted, I go and make sure the rest of the doors and windows are secured.

As I am reaching for my cell, I hear a crash. “What the hell?!” I start towards the sound when I hear her footsteps in the living room. This bitch has broken my glass door and welcomed herself in.

“Hello, 911. What is your emergency?” The operator said as I breathed heavily into the speaker.

Quietly, I said “Hi, yes, I would like to report a break-in. Someone is in my house right now and I want her removed immediately. I am at 253 Nowhere Lane...” The operator asks if I am in any danger. “No, I don’t think so, but she seems to have skipped her meds this morning. Will you stay on the line with me until the cops get here?” I may not be in danger, but I am scared.

“K, where are you? Are you playing hide-n-seek? You know I love that game.” She walks right past my hiding spot. I hear her go up the stairs and I make my way to the kitchen to grab a knife. Better prepared, right?

The knife in hand I make my way to the living room. I am not going out a coward. This time, I am going to face her. It takes her a couple of minutes to come back down. She finds me in the chair I sat in last night.

“Why were you hiding? Are you afraid of me?” She smirks and lets out a chuckle.

“The cops are on their way. You better get going and expect a restraining order brought against you. Oh, and you’ll be paying for my door too.” This is worse than I imagined. I always thought that I would see her out in public and I would be motionless because of the anger I still felt towards her sometimes, but I never expected this to happen.

I then notice that she has a pair of short shorts on showing off her thigh muscles. “Damn.” Those were my weakness. And that shirt doesn’t help anything either. I look away so she won’t notice the internal struggle. She noticed. She takes off her shirt and makes her way towards me.

It’s too much. I want her. I want to feel her. I want to feel her touch me.

She straddles me in the chair and unties my robe. Not breaking eye contact she runs her fingers through my hair, down my shoulders and between my breasts. “Stop.” I gasp as I try to resist her touch. “We can’t do this... I don’t...” she kisses me. I try to resist but my lips dance back. I had forgotten how soft they were, how sweet they tasted. I reach for her ass and give it a slap. She moans in my ear and that is when I’m gone. I pick her up and lay her down on the couch, undressing her as I suck on her flesh.

Is that what you wanted to happen, reader? Did you want me to cast the past aside and again enter her without regard of the consequences? Well, that isn’t how this story ends.

As she made herself comfortable on my lap, I played along, but only until I knew her guard was down. My kitchen knife, still clutched in my right hand, rose behind her and punctured through her skin. I could feel it glide past her bone as she realized what her fate was.

I pushed her to the floor and heard the sirens approaching. I sat there silently. Watching her gasp for air. Seeing the terror in her eyes. I had finally had my revenge. I finally was able to give her a glimpse of my pain.

I got down beside her and whispered in her ear, “You wanted to know everything you did to me. I thought actions would speak louder than words in this instance.” A tear trickled down her cheek. I rose as I heard the policeman entering the house. As he calls out my name, he spots me leering over her lifeless body.

“Ma’am, please, step aside and lay the knife down on the ground.” I do as I'm asked and answer all his questions. It was *obviously* self-defense. As her body is wheeled off, a relief floods my soul.

Everyone who heard my story believed that it was self-defense, but somehow it still took them all day to get what they needed. The cops roamed around my house, tracking her steps before she had entered her fate on my living room floor. The coroners awarded my bravery and my “great shot” where the silver blade pierced her body. While they did their preliminary reports, I couldn’t help but stare at that beautiful body that had once been mine, all mine. I had loved on every inch of her silky skin and if I had had a few drinks in me, I would have again; but there she lay, dead, with one of my best kitchen knives in her back. Before her I had never thought that I would have the need or desire to kill anyone, but somehow I knew this would be the way it ended. The coroners wheeled her body out of my house, loaded her up and drove into the sunset. The cops cleaned up their evidence badges, handed me their cards, “In case I were to remember anything else or needed anything...anything.” and with their wishful eyes they went back to their beats, their lives, their routines.

The last cop car pulls out of my driveway. I tarp the front door and clean up the mess. You would have thought that one of those “men” would have helped with that...? After realizing I haven’t eaten anything all day - I call in some Chinese, pour a glass of white wine and settle into my chair. I flip through the channels and land on a thriller. The darkness creeping in, I snuggle closer in my blanket and chug down the alcohol. And whisper to myself, “You came out on top this time, K. You survived.”

I was never the same after that day. Life felt a little freer and lighter. I finally felt peace and did not have to keep looking over my shoulder. Is this what I had been missing out on? My mind flashed back to early that afternoon... How ironically beautiful this scene was and as they closed her eyes and pulled the sheet over her, the past darkened and I knew that this had been what I needed all along. Now, the only place she could haunt me was in my dreams. And I would take that over real life any day.