Post by REVIVAL on Jul 12, 2012 20:48:18 GMT -5
I stood outside her door, pacing. Sweating, cursing to myself in a slurred manner. Maybe coming over here drunk at well, I would know what time it was if my arm wasn’t moving psychotically through the air. Or maybe that’s just another sign that maybe, just maybe, I’ve had too much to drink.
I’ve been standing outside for at least a good ten minutes, trying to find the words to say. My mouth was dry, which was amazing because I could have drowned on the sheer amount of booze flowing through my system.
What could I tell her to make her feel like I trusted her? It wasn’t the easiest thing to trust a beautiful woman. Especially one with a past as storied and scarred as hers. I loved her, this I knew. I would do anything and everything, even giving her my everything--a length I wouldn’t go for anyone else, save for my son.
But I look at the way others are drawn to her… her personality is sooooo… breathtaking. So endearing. So fucking unbelievable. I’ve heard the talk of her and Sam… I’ve heard the rumors about her and Myke flowing around, in this business nothing is left a secret for long. Did I believe them? I didn’t want to. Deep down I don’t think I honestly did believe those rumors, those lies that had been spread through the grape vine. But this part of me, the one fueled by hurt and alcohol, that was the part that told me she’d be more than willing to open her legs for any guy on the roster.
But I tried to swallow all those fears and all that anger… but then, then I heard something. Something with an English accent…
“You Tart! You put that back and give me the pounds!”
My heart sunk and my rage was boiling over… she had him here? In our place? With our son… MY SON? Suddenly, it wasn’t so easy to squash those rumors. Suddenly, all I could really see was him and her, together, in our bed. Him thrusting. Her arms wrapped around him… her nails digging into his back, her body full of pleasure.
It was enough to make me sick. But my mind wasn’t letting me get sick. The rage was too much. My fists clenched in fits of rage, and the next thing I knew, I was pounding on the door.
“Don’t touch my piece!”
I had heard her yell. And as soon as she opened the door, her face dropped. I knew she didn’t expect me to be standing there. It took everything I had to not lunge past her and drop a fist into that English bastard’s face. Apparently everything I had wasn’t enough, because before I knew it I was pushing past her gunning for that prick that was sitting behind the Monopoly board. I felt her grab onto my wrists, trying to hold me back.
”Chris… Please leave him alone!”[/I]
My eyes darted from him to her, holding me back and protecting him. HIM! How… why would she protect him? My distrust grew greater as I saw him back up from the table and ready himself for a fight. I turned my attention from her to him… but quickly it was back at her. My eyes, while red and glazed over, showed my discomfort with the situation.
“And you say nothing is going on!?”
I look from her to him and back at her again, my voice growling with rage.
”Why is he even here in MY house with… MY son!?”
Not even giving either of them a chance to speak, I violently overturned the table and sent the pieces of Monopoly flying everywhere. It’s safe to assume that they did pass go, but sure as shit didn’t collect their two-hundred bucks. I felt her push her way in between the two of us… hoping to avoid all hell breaking loose. I wasn’t sure that she could stop either of us if we really, really wanted to go right now. I felt her push me back and I tried to get at him. There was one person I hated with all of my being because of the way he had treated her… of the way she always wanted to go back to him. Part of it was insecurity, the other part was me yearning to protect her from him. I felt her pull at me once before just telling him to go.
I could sense his uneasiness in leaving, because I could sense his dislike for me a mile away. I knew deep down he loved her. It was written all over his fucking face. I can’t believe she didn’t see it, the way he was pretending to care. I wouldn’t trust him more than I could throw him, and being the bigger of the two, it was a safe distance. But that motherfucker was just like Glenn Close from Fatal Attractions. Rabbit boiling and all. What I wouldn’t give to shoot him in the chest, be it a bathroom scene or not.
I felt her grab onto both wrists, holding me back as he slithered his way out of our home like the fucking snake he was. I felt her left go of me and I began to pace around the kitchen, the sound of the door clicking shut behind that English home-wrecking bastard. She leaned against the counter, I could sense fear on her. She wasn’t sure what I would do. Hell, I wasn’t sure what I would do either.
“You tell me nothing is going on Sydney, but I have to gather what I can from you and my god damned best friend, Myke! Are you fucking him like Katy did to me? And then… AND THEN you have the audacity to have him here while I’m gone deciding what the hell to do to fix us? Who the fuck should I expect next, Jay Jerzey!?”
I felt her dark eyes meet my blue eyes. I knew that was too far, but my rage didn’t offer sympathy nor a censor button at the moment.
I felt her mannerisms begin to shift, the last comment really striking to her core.
“Oh fuck you! Nothing is going on between Myke, Sam or me! I have tried really hard to be the woman you want me to be but I cant live in a fucking cage all the time. Myke is your best friend! You think I could do something like that to you knowing what Katy did!”
I’m taken aback. She knew everything about me, how I felt after what happened up in Canada… and she felt like I kept her in a fucking cage? A CAGE?!
“You think I keep you in a fucking cage??! I let your whore ass go out and do whatever you want! That is the problem. I don’t have any control over you anymore! AAGHH.“
I felt my fists ball up in total rage, my mind beginning to black out. Her body tensed and her face grew pale in contrast to it’s normal tone.
“You wanna hit me!? Is that what will make you feel like a man? Do it! Go ahead and fucking hit me!”[/I]
I felt myself moving out of my body as my fist drew back and for the first time in my life, I felt uncontrollable rage… and that scared the shit out of me.
I knew what it was like to live with an abusive father. My mother drank herself to death because of it. And I quickly felt myself lunging back into my body as I used all of my might to move my fist. Mere inches from her face, it hit the door of the kitchen cabinet hanging behind her head. Splinters flew in all directions, and the pain began to flow throughout my body.
Not just the physical pain, but the emotional dagger that I had just lunged into both of our hearts.
The crying that bellowed from my formerly slumbering son’s bedroom was enough to break me from my trance. I felt myself getting just as nauseous as I felt before I entered the apartment. I looked at her, even trying to reach out to her. But I felt her pull away. Shit got heated and real, real fast… and all I can think is that I literally just fucked up big time. Not just in her eyes, but in my own eyes, too.
I backed out of the apartment, my own eyes beginning to swell with tears. All of the rage had vanished as I saw her sitting there on the ground. Clenching her knees, our son crying in the background.
I stammered over my own fears and insecurities, searching for the words that wouldn’t even make a dent in her feeling better. I whispered it, my voice too full of emotion to speak in any audible tone.
”I… I‘m sorry.”
I felt my heart sink even further with disappoint and anger and resentment and disgust. I pulled the door closed behind me and ran from the building as fast as I could.
I didn’t even make it ten feet from the door before I threw up all over the sidewalk. In a scene eerily reminiscent of a movie, a thunder rolled in the distance and a single lightning bolt struck through the clouds. I felt the heavens open up from above, and I knew that this was the Heaven’s way of showing me that yeah, they knew I fucked up, too.
I took a step, looking up into the rain. I shouldn’t have, because I slipped in my own vomit and felt myself writhing around in pain and disgust. What made it worse wasn’t that I felt disgusted towards my own self, or that the love of my life was scared of me and the disappointment she surely felt towards me… but that the universe in it’s entirety knew that I was the kind of fuck-up I never, ever wanted to be.
I’ve been standing outside for at least a good ten minutes, trying to find the words to say. My mouth was dry, which was amazing because I could have drowned on the sheer amount of booze flowing through my system.
What could I tell her to make her feel like I trusted her? It wasn’t the easiest thing to trust a beautiful woman. Especially one with a past as storied and scarred as hers. I loved her, this I knew. I would do anything and everything, even giving her my everything--a length I wouldn’t go for anyone else, save for my son.
But I look at the way others are drawn to her… her personality is sooooo… breathtaking. So endearing. So fucking unbelievable. I’ve heard the talk of her and Sam… I’ve heard the rumors about her and Myke flowing around, in this business nothing is left a secret for long. Did I believe them? I didn’t want to. Deep down I don’t think I honestly did believe those rumors, those lies that had been spread through the grape vine. But this part of me, the one fueled by hurt and alcohol, that was the part that told me she’d be more than willing to open her legs for any guy on the roster.
But I tried to swallow all those fears and all that anger… but then, then I heard something. Something with an English accent…
“You Tart! You put that back and give me the pounds!”
My heart sunk and my rage was boiling over… she had him here? In our place? With our son… MY SON? Suddenly, it wasn’t so easy to squash those rumors. Suddenly, all I could really see was him and her, together, in our bed. Him thrusting. Her arms wrapped around him… her nails digging into his back, her body full of pleasure.
It was enough to make me sick. But my mind wasn’t letting me get sick. The rage was too much. My fists clenched in fits of rage, and the next thing I knew, I was pounding on the door.
“Don’t touch my piece!”
I had heard her yell. And as soon as she opened the door, her face dropped. I knew she didn’t expect me to be standing there. It took everything I had to not lunge past her and drop a fist into that English bastard’s face. Apparently everything I had wasn’t enough, because before I knew it I was pushing past her gunning for that prick that was sitting behind the Monopoly board. I felt her grab onto my wrists, trying to hold me back.
”Chris… Please leave him alone!”[/I]
My eyes darted from him to her, holding me back and protecting him. HIM! How… why would she protect him? My distrust grew greater as I saw him back up from the table and ready himself for a fight. I turned my attention from her to him… but quickly it was back at her. My eyes, while red and glazed over, showed my discomfort with the situation.
“And you say nothing is going on!?”
I look from her to him and back at her again, my voice growling with rage.
”Why is he even here in MY house with… MY son!?”
Not even giving either of them a chance to speak, I violently overturned the table and sent the pieces of Monopoly flying everywhere. It’s safe to assume that they did pass go, but sure as shit didn’t collect their two-hundred bucks. I felt her push her way in between the two of us… hoping to avoid all hell breaking loose. I wasn’t sure that she could stop either of us if we really, really wanted to go right now. I felt her push me back and I tried to get at him. There was one person I hated with all of my being because of the way he had treated her… of the way she always wanted to go back to him. Part of it was insecurity, the other part was me yearning to protect her from him. I felt her pull at me once before just telling him to go.
I could sense his uneasiness in leaving, because I could sense his dislike for me a mile away. I knew deep down he loved her. It was written all over his fucking face. I can’t believe she didn’t see it, the way he was pretending to care. I wouldn’t trust him more than I could throw him, and being the bigger of the two, it was a safe distance. But that motherfucker was just like Glenn Close from Fatal Attractions. Rabbit boiling and all. What I wouldn’t give to shoot him in the chest, be it a bathroom scene or not.
I felt her grab onto both wrists, holding me back as he slithered his way out of our home like the fucking snake he was. I felt her left go of me and I began to pace around the kitchen, the sound of the door clicking shut behind that English home-wrecking bastard. She leaned against the counter, I could sense fear on her. She wasn’t sure what I would do. Hell, I wasn’t sure what I would do either.
“You tell me nothing is going on Sydney, but I have to gather what I can from you and my god damned best friend, Myke! Are you fucking him like Katy did to me? And then… AND THEN you have the audacity to have him here while I’m gone deciding what the hell to do to fix us? Who the fuck should I expect next, Jay Jerzey!?”
I felt her dark eyes meet my blue eyes. I knew that was too far, but my rage didn’t offer sympathy nor a censor button at the moment.
I felt her mannerisms begin to shift, the last comment really striking to her core.
“Oh fuck you! Nothing is going on between Myke, Sam or me! I have tried really hard to be the woman you want me to be but I cant live in a fucking cage all the time. Myke is your best friend! You think I could do something like that to you knowing what Katy did!”
I’m taken aback. She knew everything about me, how I felt after what happened up in Canada… and she felt like I kept her in a fucking cage? A CAGE?!
“You think I keep you in a fucking cage??! I let your whore ass go out and do whatever you want! That is the problem. I don’t have any control over you anymore! AAGHH.“
I felt my fists ball up in total rage, my mind beginning to black out. Her body tensed and her face grew pale in contrast to it’s normal tone.
“You wanna hit me!? Is that what will make you feel like a man? Do it! Go ahead and fucking hit me!”[/I]
I felt myself moving out of my body as my fist drew back and for the first time in my life, I felt uncontrollable rage… and that scared the shit out of me.
I knew what it was like to live with an abusive father. My mother drank herself to death because of it. And I quickly felt myself lunging back into my body as I used all of my might to move my fist. Mere inches from her face, it hit the door of the kitchen cabinet hanging behind her head. Splinters flew in all directions, and the pain began to flow throughout my body.
Not just the physical pain, but the emotional dagger that I had just lunged into both of our hearts.
The crying that bellowed from my formerly slumbering son’s bedroom was enough to break me from my trance. I felt myself getting just as nauseous as I felt before I entered the apartment. I looked at her, even trying to reach out to her. But I felt her pull away. Shit got heated and real, real fast… and all I can think is that I literally just fucked up big time. Not just in her eyes, but in my own eyes, too.
I backed out of the apartment, my own eyes beginning to swell with tears. All of the rage had vanished as I saw her sitting there on the ground. Clenching her knees, our son crying in the background.
I stammered over my own fears and insecurities, searching for the words that wouldn’t even make a dent in her feeling better. I whispered it, my voice too full of emotion to speak in any audible tone.
”I… I‘m sorry.”
I felt my heart sink even further with disappoint and anger and resentment and disgust. I pulled the door closed behind me and ran from the building as fast as I could.
I didn’t even make it ten feet from the door before I threw up all over the sidewalk. In a scene eerily reminiscent of a movie, a thunder rolled in the distance and a single lightning bolt struck through the clouds. I felt the heavens open up from above, and I knew that this was the Heaven’s way of showing me that yeah, they knew I fucked up, too.
I took a step, looking up into the rain. I shouldn’t have, because I slipped in my own vomit and felt myself writhing around in pain and disgust. What made it worse wasn’t that I felt disgusted towards my own self, or that the love of my life was scared of me and the disappointment she surely felt towards me… but that the universe in it’s entirety knew that I was the kind of fuck-up I never, ever wanted to be.
