desiresjab
10-03-2017, 02:58 AM
What You Don't Forget
You don't forget her sitting there. He never would either. All the years proved it. That look of hers, and him knowing what she wanted, and him staying firm, until she got out of the car.
He would never stop marveling he had made it happen. It surprised him less in later years when he knew himself better. For by then he could view his life like a movie, and watch himself destroy his own happiness out of fear again and again. It was not even a good movie, and it was not even over yet.
What he could not pinpoint was the exact time or event in his life which had made him a loser. His course had been set long before she stepped out of their battered car and went inside by herself.
Firm had meant providing himself with every out, though. As if it were joint decision and not his coming to pass. If you have to, he had told her, I will understand, but you know how I feel, and why.
Take a young girl with a poetic heart off the streets who never had a dime or a shred of hope, make her see she is not a lesbian, make her see all men are not cruel. Watch her reverse. Watch her give you more love than you thought possible, surely more than deserved. Watch this one who said she never wanted children grow into a woman.
He thought he was in control, because he always knew he could not live without her, only exist. He knew she did not love him as much anymore. Sometimes he had not been lovable. His heart had a long way to go yet. He had not known it would get there. How was he to know that years later this one moment of her would be the one lodged in the acids and proteins of his memory, immovable? She would show him, and this was how, by sitting there where he could always watch her face, years beyond her death. She was the ideal from whose loss he would never recover. She could make him merely exist. As she was stolen from, she could steal back.
She got out of the car and walked into the clinic.
You don't forget her sitting there. He never would either. All the years proved it. That look of hers, and him knowing what she wanted, and him staying firm, until she got out of the car.
He would never stop marveling he had made it happen. It surprised him less in later years when he knew himself better. For by then he could view his life like a movie, and watch himself destroy his own happiness out of fear again and again. It was not even a good movie, and it was not even over yet.
What he could not pinpoint was the exact time or event in his life which had made him a loser. His course had been set long before she stepped out of their battered car and went inside by herself.
Firm had meant providing himself with every out, though. As if it were joint decision and not his coming to pass. If you have to, he had told her, I will understand, but you know how I feel, and why.
Take a young girl with a poetic heart off the streets who never had a dime or a shred of hope, make her see she is not a lesbian, make her see all men are not cruel. Watch her reverse. Watch her give you more love than you thought possible, surely more than deserved. Watch this one who said she never wanted children grow into a woman.
He thought he was in control, because he always knew he could not live without her, only exist. He knew she did not love him as much anymore. Sometimes he had not been lovable. His heart had a long way to go yet. He had not known it would get there. How was he to know that years later this one moment of her would be the one lodged in the acids and proteins of his memory, immovable? She would show him, and this was how, by sitting there where he could always watch her face, years beyond her death. She was the ideal from whose loss he would never recover. She could make him merely exist. As she was stolen from, she could steal back.
She got out of the car and walked into the clinic.