Tattoos on my mind
By CellphoneGirl 15 Comments
The unsettling echo tears my stomach to shreds. Hundreds of words flicker as my eyes search for answers. I sit miles upon miles into the dark sky. I dial the number of the man I refer to as the love of my life.
I ask. He denies the simple thought of it multiple times. I beg. He pledges his loyal heart has remained stationary. I cry. He hears the hesitation formulating in my throat. I recall. He then realizes I found the building amounts of evidence and knows the attempts to cover it up it would be useless. Lies are resurging from the sparks of his words.
The jarring answer lies hidden inside his phone. I hack and hack knowing I could be stepping on my love’s state of privacy. In my palms waves upon waves rise up into my irises, revealing classified information.
Texts, making me question the range of his words. Pictures, making me question his vision of our relationship. Remarks, revealing to me his eyes are wandering. Phrases, revealing to me that i’m more alone than I believed.
As I’m on the phone hearing the accusations being denied, I announce the betrayal of privacy I made in order to find out the course of breadcrumbs left behind. I hang up feeling a rush of dread pouring into my veins. A poison inserting itself into every crevice of my brain tissue. Streams of tears cascade down my face as they drop into the vast emptiness of the world below me.
I scream in a panic. Usual streams of light are non existent as fireworks instead crackle from my fingertips. My sparkling hands claw for the clouds around me wishing I had something to hold onto. I extend my limbs desperate to reach for anything as the delicate water molecules escape me. I’m begging to hold onto the pure nature we shared between us.
What was it that I did wrong to chase him away? Why did he grow so very bored of me? Am I not as pretty as I used to be? Or am I not as thin and fit as I was when we first got to physically touch? Is it because my pale hair grows into darker hues of pink?
It’s conflicting. I could throw a monster into a pit of lava or defend a city from a missile; however, I lay in the sky motionless from the state i’m left in.
We have another talk over the phone and he begs for me. I listen and say we will fix our relationship.
As the months pass we slowly work to rebuild it, yet nothing in me trusts him. I enter the digital scape of his phone. I uncover more hurtful words and images as he now lays in the bed beside me. Etched into my memory forever. More people he attempted to build relationships with behind my back. I continue to wonder, am I nothing?
In the midst of the night I cry. In my dreams I do nothing yet scream. He grabs me and I stare into his eyes. He hugs me as I continuously ask why. Why did you cheat on me and why do you keep lying to me?
He loves me though, right? He tells me he won’t hurt me even though I am waiting for the next time he shoves a landmine near my feet. He tells me he won’t hurt me again. I’m helpless but to wait and see if that prophecy comes true.
I’m decaying as he holds me through the many nights. Fractures continue building within the walls of my head as I feel uncertain. With each touch I feel him ripping a piece of my confidence away. The pulse of my internal glow dims into a slow hum mimicking the rate of my deteriorating emotional state.
In the end I love him with all my heart. I know people make mistakes, and I believe in second chances. He hurt me badly and I will never forget the pain. Am I horrible in that I can’t walk away? Am I pathetic in that I can’t imagine spending a night without him? Am I a mess that I still give my body to him knowing that he could be sharing his with another yet again? There isn’t an ounce in me that can say goodbye as I keep clinging on to the idea that he still has an ounce in him that loves me.
(Credit to the title goes to Ariana Grande, for the phrase is found in the song "sometimes").
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