I was such a jerk. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean those things I said. Can you ever forgive me? I miss you.
I drove by your house today. I’ve been watching you for hours. I saw you through your bathroom window; how many times have I told you to get some curtains? I could see you standing there, staring into the mirror. What were you looking at baby? And why were you crying? You know it makes your eyes red and that beautiful face of yours all puffy.
Are you sad, baby? It’s okay. It’s my fault, not yours. I shouldn’t have yelled, I said I never would again. See, I just get so jealous, and I can’t think straight. I see the way he looks at you, and well, maybe it is your fault. You shouldn’t lead him on. But I forgive you this time. I hate to see you cry. I want so badly to call you, run to you, but I know you said we both need time apart. I know you need time to think about how much you love me and how sorry you are. We need this.
I’m sitting outside your house. You have your windows open–how many times have I told you to keep your windows closed and locked? You’ve been listening to the same song for nearly three hours — that one from the yellow case, your favorite group … I don’t remember the name, all that crap sounds the same to me. Why haven’t you called me? You should have called by now. I need a phone call.
Why did you break your mirror? I heard it shatter. I almost ran in to see if you were okay. But I didn’t. I wanted to see if you would call me. You’re missing me, aren’t you? You’re so upset that you’re breaking things. Don’t do that baby, you’ll cut your pretty hands; you’re so fragile that way. And so clumsy. I deserve a little more, don’t you think? I’m sure you’ll call me tonight after you clean everything up. You’ll need me to hang a new mirror for you.
My Sun and Stars,
I read your blog today. Yes, doll, I do read it, I know I said I didn’t. You know me better than that though. Of course you do, because I saw your poem to me. … I admit, I was starting to get worried when you didn’t call. I am so relieved. You miss me. You love me. You’re unbalanced without me–I am too. I drove by your house this evening, as the sun set. I thought about stopping, but I saw you standing at the window, just watching. You were so beautiful. I wish I was beautiful. You had that look in your eyes as you stared off to the west. What were you thinking of my precious? Me?
The Love of My Life,
I hate this. I have made you pay enough. I’m glad you finally came to your senses. I see you standing on the porch in the mornings, I see you in the window at night. It’s time. I think you realize now how good I am to you, for you. I will come to you tonight and ask you to be mine forever. I’ll even bring a bottle of wine. I know you don’t drink, but this is a special occasion. (Yes, I know I told you I had stopped, and I did. I just have one every once in a while. The pain of not being with you was too much, so really it’s your fault, not mine, but I am not worried, I am not overly concerned.) I cannot wait to see you, to hold you in my arms, to make you my wife.
My Future Wife,
I came over but you are not here. Where are you babe? I knocked and knocked, and then I checked every window, but you had locked them. So I’m waiting. Maybe you’ve gone to me. I want to go check, but I don’t want to miss you either. I’ll just wait. …
We should plant petunias. Maybe some snapdragons. We can grow all … wait, there you are driving up. You’re with someone, oh maybe you were at a meeting, I don’t know why you still go those meetings, you don’t need them anymore, you’re cured. All you do there is hug people anyway, and that shit’s gonna stop when we’re married. See? Look at you hugging …
You were with him?
Why is he kissing you? Running his hands through your hair? And why are you laughing?
How can you look so happy? This is all your fault!
You said you loved me, you missed me, you wanted me to come home to you. You wrote it! You …
You weren’t writing about me, were you?
It was him. It was always him. How could I be such a fool? It was in front of me all along, time and time again.
I was your sunrise, your first love. But he is your sunset, your western sky.
So where does that leave me? Can’t you see my walls are crumbling? Where do I set now, sweet angel? Where do I set now?
Arkhip Kuindzhi, Sunset in the Winter. A Coast of the Sea. 1890. Oil. (Wikipaintings.org)
Inspired in part by “Diary” by Bread (lyrics) from Best of Bread and from the album August and Everything After by Counting Crows.
Written in parallel to my post last week, “Mirror (Daily Prompt)“, and told from another’s perspective, in participation with The Weekly Writing Challenge: Leave Your Shoes at the Door, hosted this week by the lovely Rara of Rarasaur. (Consider things from a different point of view.) You may view other posts on this topic and more at The Daily Post at WordPress.com: Writing Challenges.
Have you ever received mixed signals from someone? Do you keep a diary or a journal? Do you let others read it? Have you participated in The Daily Post’s Weekly Writing Challenges before?–this was my first, and it was a lot of fun. Be brave! and give it a try sometime!