When I was young, I met someone that appeared to me as an angel. Turns out..., she wasn't. |
I smile, looking back on the first time we met. I was young… only twelve. I was just starting to hurt. You called to me; however, I wasn't ready to listen just yet. You didn't give up on me though; you were patient. You waited. "You didn't need me then," you later told me. "I knew you would one day, and I was willing to wait; I couldn't abandon you. I would never abandon you." You were so kind. You listened. You were so non-judgmental. You didn't ask for much in return; nothing monetary. Of course, I could spare what you asked. I turned sixteen two months ago, in November. You've been back for eight months. We spend almost every night together. The agreement is the same: you lend an ear, and I provide payment. Tonight is no different. You travel across my skin. Sting, drip, splash. Sting, drip, splash. When you've had your fill, and I've told my stories for the day, I feel a sense of calm. I watch the stress, the anger, the burning self-loathing that once pitted in the center of my chest, bleed into the water and wash away. Not a single stain. You're smart; porcelain isn't a hassle to clean up like carpet or even tile. My secret is safe. You are safe, tucked away in your box in the back of the last drawer of my jewelry box. Everything is in place. I sleep soundly as I always do on the nights we spend together. …I awake this morning, and as usual, I wonder why I let you do this. Why I do I let you tell me what to do with my time? I can wear only what you tell me to. I can have only the friends that you approve of. I can only participate in the activities you say are okay; you're taking softball and choir, my sport and my music, away from me. You've gotten so goddamn demanding... controlling. I despise you. With every ounce of my being. I almost toss your sorry ass to the curb; throw you away for good. …Almost… I want to laugh in your face as you drown in the remnants of your own sin—the rusty brown tissues hidden under random scraps of toilet paper and old face wash bottles... But then, in that soft, soothing, musical tone of yours, you speak to me. I see your beauty—the same beauty I saw that first night we reconnected—and the way you glow under the light in which we first met. You bring the spark back into my life. You bring the color back to me when it fades and the world falls into a lifeless, monochrome blur. It never takes me long to realize that I'm a fucking fool. I can't live without you. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me? You only want what's best for me; you're trying to save me from myself. Sometimes, I'm blinded by what I see everywhere else. I forget what you've done for me. I promise, we'll spend extra time tonight, okay? Please…, just don't go. I don't know where I would be without you. Just… stay… I need you, Lilith. |