All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
That Day Is Smeared
I try to think back to that day. There were Cheetos scattered around us and our hearts hidden beneath that sheet from the back of your band's van. The sun was hot and smiling down upon our fingers intertwined and cracked. You looked sideways at me through downcast lashes with a certainty that there was this something called love between us. We talked about anything and everything about ourselves. The secrets that scored our souls and broke us in half and the way that no one really understood us. I let my yellow hair fall back and mix with the green of the grass as you played your guitar loudly into the air and all I could think was that this is infinity. I knew though that infinities never last and that everything that came together fell apart. Yes, I knew this, but I never wanted it to be true.
The rain came with the screaming and yelling between the layers of the torn tears of my broken heart. You had cheated on me. I shoved you out of my car, into the mud on the side of the grey highlighted highway and made sure that it splashed all over your vintage Beetles t-shirt. I watched you in my rear view mirror.You didn't watch my car drive away.
I see the days that I spent clutching my chest and telling myself that I had to force the air though my lungs because it wasn't worth it over you. I wasn't even worth you time and therefore, you weren't worth it to cry over. It was funny though, how you fell so quickly into the pages of my life after that, stuffed between the friends and the grades and the dances. Your face and its perfect geometrical design was completely lost and divided into nothing.
The moths drift into the light that was mounted next to my crisscrossed screen door. Here you are on my porch, in the middle of the night, with your sunken eyes downcast to the rusty wood. Your knuckles are fisted in the pockets of your ratty jeans and I just stare at you.
"What do you want from me?" My words are clipped and manicured. Practiced to my own reflection as I watched my lips repeat the words.
Your fingers move from your jeans to your arms to play guitar chords there nervously. "I wanted to ask you if I could have another chance," you whisper and I can barley hear you over the moan and clash of the cars on the street beyond us. It makes me think of your brute voice over the cars that day.
I see my fake infinity with you and your candy-coated lies as they scooted out of your mouth. I wonder if you ever did care about me or if those stolen secrets of yours were real. My hands are back on the black steering wheel as I notice the crimson lipstick smeared across the underside of your chin. I had touched my own lips absently to see if I had worn red and forgotten, only to see I had nothing on my mouth.
Your harsh beaten words as they latched onto my heart and pulled until I broke.
You had loved the way that I would believe anything you said.
I glance up and realize that you were talking this entire time about how much you wanted us to be a thing again. I shake my head slowly and calculated the way my lips lifted up, "Leave me alone, won't you? I've had enough of your lies."
Your coffee stained eyes look up sharply as if to say: I never thought you were that strong. You want to tell me something else, but before you can, I slam the door shut. I latch it slowly so that I can keep my breathing even and the tears about you at bay.
I think of myself lying on that blanket. I think of you.
I never knew I was this strong either.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 3 comments.
30 articles 0 photos 332 comments
Favorite Quote:
"I have always wanted to write in such a way that people say, 'I have always thought that but never found the words for it.'" -anonymous