Allow me to officially give a genre title to this style of literature. I have spent hours trying to find the perfect title that would best describe these dark Emo-esque tales of failed relationships, tainted love and closet secrets that we would rather take to the grave than to confess. I shall call it Bad Romance. Ah yes, perfect title. and with the birth of the Bad Romance Genre, I shall contribute another piece of freestyle fiction to further describe the genre. We’ll see where it goes.
I woke up one morning and my girlfriend did not.
Her body laid lifelessly next to mine in bed that night. I didn’t realize until the next morning, finding an empty prescription bottle on her nightstand. I often think just how long she had been dead there and I not know it. I remember something not feeling right when I came to bed late that night. The room was cold, dark and eerie. I guess that is what death feels like, but I didn’t know at the time, so I laid next to her, with my back facing hers, throwing my very own bed sheets over me, as she had one to herself as well. We had grown far apart, no longer connected mentally, and damn-near physically. We didn’t speak at all that day, and there was nothing worth saying. She had previously slept with another man, and there was nothing I could do about that, but cry in a lonely dark corner, and continue to call her every insulting name in the book, but I had said them all.
Adina wasn’t just another woman, but the only woman. There was just something about her that would put me in this hypnotic state, where nothing else mattered but her, Us. I could go on forever about how beautiful she was. Her eyes was the most beautiful set I have ever seen in my life. Her smile would set me in a trance.Her existence alone proved that there was true beauty in this world. Something to live for, something to forever appreciate and cherish.
Time just made things better. I couldn’t imagine what life would be like if I had somehow lost her, so I did everything I could to make sure that would never happen. We would travel out of town together, on these spontaneous little late-night trips. We’d talk for hours about nothing, sometimes not sleeping at all. I’d just lay there and listen to her talk about things, it all would come out sounding poetic. I was in love, real love, for the first time and the last. I knew for sure that nothing like her comes twice in life. If this was blessing, I would never be blessed again.
Then, well, things just wasn’t the same as they once were. We would often argue about anything, and it would continue on for days. I could feel that we were beginning to grow distant from each other. Suddenly, we weren’t thinking the same anymore. We could hardly do anything without there being an issue. As days weren’t by, I began to miss Adina, the one I first met. She could never be that Adina ever again. We were both changing,and it just got worse and worse.
I began drinking, hoping that all of my troubles would just go away, and I would be able to act as if it never happened. I became depressed, and so did she, soon after. It got to the point where we couldn’t be together in the same room without having a disagreement on something. It could be anything, it would always lead to us fighting, and not talking for days. Things got rough, and I was determined to bring things back to the way they once were.
We’d go to our old spots where we used to visit often, but it just didn’t have the same affect as before. Our kisses were meaningless. I didn’t feel that shiver crawl up my spine anymore, and she no longer had goosebumps on her arm. Sex was just sex, no longer passionate and full of emotion. Sometimes, we did it just to desperately regain the feelings lost, but afterwards, I’d just lay on my side of the bed, wishing. She would lay on her head, expressionless and unemotional. There was nothing worth saying.
Dinner was no longer hot and on the table. It couldn’t fix itself, so we’d often have dinner separately, at whatever fast food joint was nearby. I didn’t know when we had started to do this, but the house was eventually split, which had me always downstairs, and her kingdom was the entire upstairs area. That led us to hardly ever see each other. Her room door was always closed, and my back was always turned to everything else, focused on the television, watching a fiction romantic relationship being displayed on television, as if they are saying “This is the relationship you should have.” but things don’t work that way. On television, the leave out all of the other stuff that comes with a relationship, marriage and living together.
We were at a standstill, but no one was standing. We had become bored with attempting to do anything to make this relationship work and mean something. We, the builders, we just stopped building, leaving the house, our relationship, unfinished. Somehow, somewhere, we just lost the purpose for us doing anything.
I should’ve expected her to cheat on me, I should’ve seen that coming long ago. The other guy has got it easy. He doesn’t have to do much. Just do the things that I don’t, make her feel good, a little hug here and there, listen to her for hours and act as if he agrees with absolutely everything she says. Though I had the feeling, and would often think of it from time to time, it still came as complete shock to me when I first heard the news. She told me two months after it happened, and just two days after they broke things off. She was sorry, and I could see it in her eyes. I know she was sincere and wished she could go back to the way things used to be, Hell, so do I, but I was just too heated to forgive her. I just couldn’t look at her the same afterwards. She meant to me just as any other woman walking the streets. She went from being angelic to ordinary. Everything that once was had just diminished after her confession.
I would often hear her crying from upstairs, and instead of taking the chance to talk things out, I would turn up the volume on the television, and act as if it was all a part of the movie. We were as distant as ever before, and no one was making any attempts to make things right. God, I missed her dearly, but I just couldn’t conjure up the will to go up those stairs and speak to her. I just couldn’t.
One night, she stood at the top of the stairs and waited for a quiet part to present itself from the movie playing. “Are you coming to bed?” she asked. I remained looking at the television, motionless, with my back turned to her. “No.” I said in an irritated tone of voice. That was the last i heard from her that night, or ever again. I woke up one morning and my girlfriend did not.
They say that you don’t know what you’ve got until it is gone. I understand that now that I can never see her again. Everything that i took for granted is now what I miss the most. Now I find myself wanting to believe in God, just to pray and hope that he would bring her back. Maybe things would’ve turned out different if I had responded different that last night. Maybe I should’ve just went to bed when she asked. Now I think of all those nights we’d sleep together, her on one side and me on the other, separating the bed by placing a sheet between us. It makes me think of how many chances I had to make things right. So many nights where I could’ve just opened up and spoke to her, but I didn’t. I would turn my back to her and act as if she did not exist. Now, I sleep facing where she once slept, hoping that I would wake up in the morning and see her face again.
We would both wake up at the same time, look at each other and smile. “Hey You.” she would say, with her hair being a mess, her eyes looking like a set of gems. I would smile back, not blinking, thinking I would miss something if I did. I still hear her saying that in my head, but it becomes distorted and unmemorable after a while. I feel as if I am losing the only thing of her I still have left, Memories. Years ago, I was hoping that she would just go away, and I wouldn’t have to see or hear from her again. Now she’s gone forever, and it seems like the memories are leaving along with her.
“You got your wish.” she would often say after having a bad day. I would wish that she would, before she’d leave the house every morning. Those words now haunt me every day, as I always hear her saying it while reminiscing of past times together. Now the house feels empty, life seems meaningless, and I feel alone, more than ever before.
I believe I am being punished for being unappreciative. Adina could have any man in the world, and anyone would be lucky to have her, but in the end, she gave her heart to me. I said somethings, horrible things, All of which I would take back if I could, but I must live with it now. That, and the feeling of our memories together, just fading away in my mind. This is my punishment, sitting in this house, trying my best to hold on to the memories, rotting away in my cell, filled with regret and shame. I realize now that the feeling in the beginning is never going to last forever. It is what you do afterwards that gives true substance and definition to the relationship. I was so stuck on the feeling and energy we had in the beginning that I stopped building afterwards. I once said that If we could not have that feeling again, then I’d rather not have a relationship at all. Now, I find myself fighting just to keep memories of anything we ever did together. Now, every little thing means everything.
Cherish everything you have, for you will never appreciate and understand its true value and meaning until it is taken from you… Lesson learned, the hard way.
© 2012 Christopher L. Bacon – firstname.lastname@example.org