Back to Some Writing!
O.K. Gently slide it in...good. Now, slowly turn it to the right...
not too hard, not too soft, until... Dang it! Come on you stupid lock!
What's your problem! I swear one of these days I am going to bend this
car door key around until it snaps. I wish I knew what got it to stick
like this. No telling how much junk I've sprayed into it, and look what
good it's done me. Sometimes it slides on over with ease and yet
other times... Got it!
All right, now its time to open the door. Lets see. Nice summer
day. No clouds. Feels like at least ninety-five degrees outside. That
means that with my black vinyl seats and black hardtop, its probably
about 400 F inside the car. Too bad I don't have a frozen pizza on me.
Well, here it goes... Oh, man! Jeez, don't breath that stuff Dean or
else you're gonna fry out your lungs. I'll just let the temperature drop
a couple hundred degrees and then get inside. But, I don't want to wait
out here too long. The sooner I get going the sooner I'll have the air
conditioning on me and the quicker I'll be away from school.
Ya right, school. I certainly couldn't think of a more
delightful way of spending my summer. Driving away from campus now, I
feel like never going back. For that matter, why should I? It's not like
I have a reason to go anymore; I lost that with one lousy phone call.
All I ever wanted was to get a good education, find a well paying job,
get married and support a family. A family that I thought I was going
to have... Oh God, will I ever be capable of loving someone again?
It hurts so much, if I could only understand why - Why - WHY!!
Oh, nice going Dean. Smack the steering wheel any harder and you'll be
zipping you pants with your teeth.
So how do I deal with these feelings raging within me, eating me
up from inside like a burning acid. I feel anger, bitterness,
resentment, and most of all betrayal. Three years of sharing should mean
something. At least, it should deserve some bloody consideration. Is
that really too much to ask?
"Dean, you sound so happy."
Why did she say that? Was it her way of warning me, setting me
up for what was to come? Or could it possibly have been her conscience
fighting against the inevitable? Would it have been easier for her if I
had been in a severe case of mental depression, wallowing in the
miseries which this cruel, cruel world had thrust upon me?
What did I know of a cruel world? I wasn't prepared at all, but
then, I guess, no one really ever is. I know that I'm not the only one
who was shocked by what happened. No one ever suspected that Linda was
capable of such a thing. Has she changed so much from when we met?
I'll never forget the first time that I saw her. I remember that
I couldn't really peg her at first. She seemed like a walking
contradiction. The body she had and the way in which it was packaged,
just did not seem to go together.
Physically, she had a very shapely figure, curved and tapered in
all the right places. Just the thought of sliding my hands softly down
her sides, tracing out a perfect hourglass, evoked those raging
adolescent desires which I had yet to understand or control. But, the
way she dressed would either extinguish such thoughts or somehow hint to
some erotic secret that no one could have guessed.
She wore thick framed, dark brown eye glasses. Her hair was very
long and parted blandly down the center and lay flat against the sides
of her head. Her clothes looked like garage sale specials or hand-me-
downs from her mother. Just trying to picture that body with that look
was tough. It was like looking at an optical illusion, one which,
depending on how a person looked at it, would form two completely
different images.
But, in time, they did come together, and I began to see a truly
beautiful young woman. She possessed a beauty which did not reside
solely in her appearance but emanated from within her. This was only
complemented by the supreme innocence and naivet� of her very being. It
always made me feel better just to look at her. She had hold of
something inside of me from the very beginning.
"Jeff and I are..." NO!! no. Oh God, I don't want to feel this
way.
Linda why? Did I hurt you, or was I cruel to you in some way. If
I was doing something wrong I would have changed. At least, you could
have given me the chance.
I realize things were not that great before, but I never stopped
loving you. My cries for freedom were not real cries. I always wanted
you. I even told you that I did.
Besides, she never gave me any reason to think that I was really
going to lose her. I wasn't the first one to say the words "I love you"
between us. She was always telling me how much she loved me. How could
I help but believe her? I only strayed away with the assurance that she
would always be there (she said she would be). She was my anchor, the
ever-present tugging that kept from wandering to far.
I always felt so unworthy of her love, so undeserving because of
my lack of a real commitment. But I never, never would have considered
him more worthy. I'm sorry, but Jeff just isn't the type of person a
descent girl should get involved with. I should know; I lived with the
man. That is until Linda told me he had been seeing her secretly for a
month. Dad kicked him out of the house that night.
I remember Linda telling me that same night how she was planning
on never seeing Jeff again, except to say goodbye. She said she was
sorry for letting it go on as long as it did. But, she also needed
time. She didn't want to see me for awhile. She needed to get things
worked out in her head first. I said that I understood and that she was
probably confused. I encouraged her to take all the time she needed. I
was really happy with myself for acting so "mature" about the whole
thing. At least, one of us was.
So, for the next two months, I was an emotional wreck, trying to
deal with everything she told me that night. Plus, having heard all
those rumors of Jeff being seen with Linda really did not help. I
remember one night when I just broke out in sobs without any apparent
reason.
Finally, we were able to talk. Linda, a mutual friend, and I sat
down and talked a lot of things through. I really felt like the air was
cleared. I had a renewed hope.
That night, almost three weeks ago, was the last time I saw her.
I had no delusions that everything was going to be all right. That we
would automatically get back together, as if nothing had ever happened
between us. But, I did feel like there was a good chance that we could
start over, pick up the pieces and make something better. I had been
under the impression that she was going to end it with Jeff, that she
really did see that he had nothing to offer her but pain. I guess that
is why it shook me up for minute when she said, "Jeff still has my
ring". She went on to explain to me how he would play with the class
ring on her hand. And, the last time, he had taken it off and not
returned it.
That one simple statement about the ring really bothered me. At
the time, I couldn't really figure out why. To think that would be the
last time I would talk with her before... before I called her yesterday.
She left two days after we talked that night to go on a trip to
Texas with her family. I really hoped that the time away would be good
for her. It seems so ridiculous to me now that I was worried about her
when I couldn't reach her at her apartment after she was due back. Even
her mother had not heard from her.
It seems incredibly ironic to me now that I finally reached her
yesterday, the Fourth of July. Was somebody laying the ground work,
telling me, "Hey bud, it's Independence Day. You've got you're freedom
now", when that was the last thing in the world that I really wanted.
I had been calling her number once every hour that day in an
attempt to finally reach her. I think now that maybe I shouldn't have
tried so hard.
"Hi Lin, how was your trip?"
"Dean?"
"Well, ya. So how have you been? Watchya been up to? I've been
trying to reach you for the last week now."
"Oh, well, I've been out a lot. Besides, I did have to work this
last week. But, I'm off today, of course, because of the holiday."
"Yeah, no kidding. I wouldn't have been trying to call now
otherwise. So, tell me about your trip. Did you have have a good time?
What did you do?"
"It was o.k., nothing special really."
"Uh-huh. Ya sure, makes sense to me. It was just the first
descent trip that you and your family have taken together in ages. You
probably just saw a boring old ocean; I mean, who hasn't, and saw
relatives that you haven't seen in years. Yep, I guess I would have to
agree with you, nothing special there.
"O.K. Linda. What's wrong. Are you all right?"
"Dean, you sound so happy."
"I sound happy, huh. Well, that's a pretty odd thing to say to
me right now. I'm really starting to get concerned here Linda. Will you
please just tell me what is..."
"Jeff and I are married."
My heart screamed.
I could feel my hand holding the phone begin to tremble. My mind
began thinking of a hundred different ways to respond at once.
Everything from a sincere, "Hey, that's great. I'm really happy for
you", to a vicious, "You bitch!" But, I just sat there, silently,
conscious of my mouth moving with inaudible words. I could feel the
blood draining from my face. It began to feel as if someone or something
was pushing against the sides of my head in an attempt to force out
everything inside. My ears began to ring from the pressure of it. Until,
explosively I screamed, "GOD!" and slammed down the phone.
I remember, like a dream, stumbling blindly into the next room
screaming, just screaming. I saw the couch and lurched for it, falling
to my knees. I forced myself into the airy cushions, clawing at them,
wanting desperately to bury myself deep within them. I wanted to cry,
but couldn't because the screams were still rushing out, deep and
guttural. They were broken only by the rapid convulsive gasps for air
which shook my body with such force that it would have appeared as if I
were receiving physical blows from an unseen assailant. Time lost all
meaning. This continued until I had physically tired myself and had
assumed some form a composure.
I went upstairs to my room and lay on my bed. I curled up into
the fetal position, tucked my pillow in-between my stomach and legs, and
wrapped my arms around the pillow firmly. Directly across the room on my
desk was her picture, I watched it blur as my eyes finally began to fill
with tears. I felt their burning wetness run down the side of my face,
to where they would fall into the cool sheet below...
My gosh, home already. That's eerie. I made it the whole way
home and don't remember making a single turn. Not only that, but its
actually quite cool in here now.
Turning off the car, I am impressed with how silent it is now,
almost serene. The only sound is the soft ticking coming from the
cooling engine. Cooling just as the heated emotions I have experienced
in the last twenty-four hours are now beginning to cool. At least now,
I can receive consolation from the fact that it really is over. She
can't hurt me anymore.
But, as I'm getting out of the car, I feel the heat again. I
begin to become troubled as a question starts to appear in my mind,
picking up momentum until it is roaring through my thoughts, "What if I
have to go through this again, with someone else. What if the pain never
stops?" I feel an electrifying chill run down my back, freezing me
there, standing outside, next to my car.
Back to Some Writing!