March 30, 2010

Waking up with the urge to dry heave.

Feeling foggy and half aware.

My stomach sucking in unnaturally because I couldn’t fill it; no appetite, no way to be sure I’d keep in the food I did choke down.

Six days.

After six days these things began to fade, and other than a constant state of dysphoria, I was almost-fine.

Moped around Edward’s house when he wasn’t there- which was always- usually going outside to get lost in the autumn leaves across the street. Thank God for the park, a little slice of wild and fresh in an otherwise concrete jungle.

The stale half-pack of cigarettes that had been living in the bottom of my backpack for months came out and I sucked them all down one day, watching the wind carry the smoke away, enjoying the crinkle of crushed leaves beneath my butt.

“Have you been smoking?” Edward frowned when he came home.

Lifted my arm and sniffed my sleeve, realizing belatedly the odor had clung to my clothes, depressed that once again I’d done something he didn’t like. “Yes.”

“I didn’t know you smoked,” he said, turning away from me.

“I don’t.”

I followed him to his room, where he was getting undressed. Slivers of desire seared through my innermost parts and I slipped back down the hall, not wanting to know what he looked like without clothes, except… I did.

“Are you going out?” I asked, flattening myself against the wall outside his room.

“Yeah.”

“Where are you going?” I was going to need to go out too, now that the urge to stay in bed was passing. I craved new sights and sounds.

And I craved Edward.

He met all of my basic needs. He was like an older brother.

No semblance of the attraction we’d once shared.

Oh, it was burning inside of me, threatening to consume me from the inside out. But for all of his patience and kindness there remained a wall. I knew what he was doing.

He wanted to protect himself – from me.

“Out, Bella.” He said it with a sigh and something akin to irritation flared up within me, surprising me.

“With Lauren?”

He emerged from his room, cocking an eyebrow when he saw me lingering just outside his room. “Yes. With Lauren. She’s right outside, actually, waiting in the car.”

“Why didn’t she come in?” I asked, my heart sinking. “Because of me?”

“No, we’re rushing because the movie-“

“I embarrass you,” I said, and the realization hurt almost worse than any physical punch.

Edward shook his head, reaching for me. “No, you don’t-“

Twisted away from his grasp and walked swiftly to the window, peeling the curtain aside just enough so I could see out. A blonde was sitting in the passenger seat of Edward’s car. He didn’t drive all the time, but I suppose he chose to when he had hot dates.

I could feel him right behind me, sense his hesitance.

“Yes, I do. I’m sorry,” I said.

Waited until I’d locked myself inside the room before letting myself cry. Normally I found crying cathartic, and it was an indulgence I tried not to feel bad about. It was only natural, after all.

But I’d cried so much, too much.

He knocked sharply at the door and I jumped, opening it immediately. His face fell when he saw mine, and he lowered his eyes, all of his fight having evaporated. “Just… don’t lock the bedroom door, Bella. I’m not comfortable with it.”

“I’m not going to kill myself,” I whispered.

He nodded and left.

*

After a shower, where I shaved legs that hadn’t been shaved in God knows how long, I stayed in the steamy bathroom to comb through my hair, gazing at my face in the mirror.

The bruises had pretty much all faded, leaving only faint yellow marks.

Soon I would need to find a job, a place of my own. Coming to Edward had been the right thing to do, of that I had no doubt, but staying would be foolish. He was not the same person he’d been.

Or maybe it was I who was too different. After all, I’d been the one to let our relationship die when he’d left. He had tried, and I hadn’t.

Too hard to sleep when Edward wasn’t home and so I didn’t even try. Instead I attempted to read, although that was difficult too. Concentrating was a skill I had yet to refine after years of fog.

Eventually I heard the key in the lock, and I could tell he was trying to be quiet, probably thinking I was asleep. I ached to go to him, to just look him, and I’d crossed my room before I’d even made the decision to move.

Lauren stood just inside the front door. We seemed to see each other at just the same moment.

I wanted to throw up.

She blinked several times and then smiled a little. “Hi. I’m Lauren… you’re Bella?”

Nodded from my place, half hidden in the hall. Wondered how much she knew about me, if he’d told her secrets about me.

“Yes,” I said, my voice was hoarse. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same here.” She tried to smile warmly but I could see she felt uncomfortable.

“Well, good night.” I waved and went back to my room, shaking violently. I couldn’t do this anymore.

Silently began to pack my things. Wouldn’t leave tonight, because that was stupid, but maybe first thing in the morning. I’d explain it to Edward; he was practical, he’d understand.

“What are you doing?”

Spun around to see Edward looming in the doorway, looking confused and bewildered and even panicked.

“Where’s Lauren?”

“She left. What are you doing?”

“I –“ …thought I had more time to think this through… ”I’m gonna get going tomorrow. Maybe, you know, head out to-“

“You can’t go, Bella.”

Now I was the confused one. Annoyed, relieved and confused, specifically. “Why not?”

“Because you have nowhere to go,” he said, all matter of fact and so like a doctor.

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“I don’t want you to go,” he said, coming closer and snatching the half full duffel bag from my hands. He tossed it across the room and glared down at me.

“What is wrong with you? In case you didn’t know, I don’t do angry very well. If you’re going get weird on me, I’m definitely leaving.”

He shut his eyes and sat on the bed, scrubbing his hands through his hair. “Sorry.” And I could see he was. “You make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” I said, trying not to whimper.

Sat beside him and took his hand.

“I have to be this way,” he said.

“What way?”

“In control. You hurt me when you left, you know.”

“You left,” I reminded him, leaning a little closer to smell his smell.

“You know what I mean.”

Nodded, because I did.

“I was hurting too. I don’t know why I didn’t just go with you. I couldn’t,” I said.

“You wouldn’t,” he said, shrugging.

“What did Lauren say just now?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

“That she didn’t trust you and me in the house together.”

Hadn’t been expecting that at all.

“Oh. Well what did you say?”

He looked at me then, the green in eyes softened by the dusky lighting in my room. “I told her she was probably right.”

Fade.

As long as I can remember that’s what I’ve been trying to do. Fade to the background, disappear and be forgotten. There were moments in my life when I hoped to be noticed and steal the spotlight, but under that scorching, blinding light I could never feel at home. I could never see the people I was performing to and I hated the bright curtain between us.

I belong to the shadows. I’m more comfortable in the dark and at the sidelines watching others work their talents and create magic. I love to study faces when I go unnoticed and see the connections others miss. I want to create stories to each expression, to each outfit, to each gait and each sound. I want to explain and make things make sense even if I have to create a world to do it.

Sure I like to connect with others, joke and jest, laugh. But I’m not the life of the party. I’m the quiet girl who makes sure there’s enough food and drinks on the table while others have fun. I’m the girl who slips out the side door and finds a corner to just listen and disappear into the world in my mind. I’m the girl who’ll help the hired staff to clear the mess and enjoy doing it.

I’m the girl who’d rather be alone than fake one smile. It feels cold sometimes when the only hands warming my arms are my own, but I’d rather have that than deal with strangers pulling me away from the perfect stranger holding me.

Fading is good. Faded things don’t attract attention and if an expert should notice something valuable, it’ll be that much more special than just another crowd gathering at the foot of a sparkling rainbow.

What do you do when passion fades,
And love has slipped away?
Admit defeat and give it up?
Or pursue and continue to play?

The flames are gone, the fire has died,
No warmth, only cold and gray.
Slowly fading, cooling and darkening,
As blackness claims your way.

You feel so lost, so very small,
As you spiral into the dark.
Hands are clutching, hope is fading
To recapture that once bright spark.

With a heavy heart and a broken mind,
The decision has been made.
No light, no heat, no passion, no love,
It’s time to let it fade.