The Lonely Position of Neutral

Letters & Black Eyes

"Okay, so, I know I don't deserve your help, but--"

"You can say that again," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "What is it you really want?" I'd heard someone stomped steps to my house, and my doorbell echo through the halls. Hannah had run off with her ex-boyfriend. Should I have expected anything different? I mean, she cheated on him to get with me. But I'd thought we'd be together forever—stupid me. I was a hopeless romantic. I'd walk across hot coals to find what we'd had before she decided to leave five years ago. I guess the shit didn't work out so well. Had Hannah come crawling back to me? 

"He hits me." Hannah leaned forward and separated her hair to show my brusies on her neck and back."Look"---Hannah closed the distance between us--"I shouldn't have left you." She let out a sigh.

"So call the police," I said as apathetic as possible. It's not like I could ignore her black eye. What what did she want? Sympathy from me?

Hannah held her head in her hands, then shook her fists. "Don't you remember?"

"Was I supposed to remember something?" I shrugged. "The way you left was wrong."  I blinked back tears, pointing my finger in her direction. I'd wanted to ask if she even cared that that day played over and over in my head. Sometimes, it was a dream, and sometimes, it was a nightmare." 

"He's a police officer."

"Look, I don't want to be used," I said, stroking my chin. "But, Megan may be able to help you."

"Megan?" Hannah raised a sly brow. "Got a new girl?"

"What's it to you?" Megan wasn't some new girlfriend, although it'd be nice to throw it in Hannah's face. Megan was my sister. 

Hannah waved her hands. "It's none of my business. I just thought you know--"

"You know what? Did you think I'd wait for you to come crawling back to me?"

"You say it like it's a bad thing." Hannah giggled. "Ok"--Hannah gestured--"not funny."

I still remember the day we met. She whipped into a gas station, blasting New Found Glory, and asked me if she needed to get diesel for her Ford F-250, which said diesel on the side of the truck. So, yeah. Instead of a pickup line, Hannah asked me for gas. It wasn't like I hadn't been hit on before, just never like this. When I locked eyes with hers, my heart skipped a beat. I'd felt her spirit calling me, wanting me. We'd spent five years of bliss together. Hannah had become my best friend. When Hannah's parents were out of town, we'd smoke pot and drink Red Hook. She'd introduced me to her parents; they hated me, which pushed us closer together. We'd have sex. I'm sorry; we'd make love anywhere, anytime. Hannah was my first, and I'd wanted her to be my last. I'd wanted Hannah to be the first thing I saw when I woke up and the last thing I saw before I went to bed. 

"You left on my fucking birthday!" I said. God. I was still pissed about that. Mom and Dad were finally going to meet Hannah for the first time. Yes, the first time in five years. My parents fought until someone gave up. I'd decided to keep my personal life separate from my home life. 

"Look, I was wrong, but we were stupid 19-year-old kids. It's not like I didn't think of you or write you every day."

"Wait--"

"And--"

"Hold on." I placed my finger to my lips. "You wrote me?"

"Didn't you get the letters?" Hannah raised a brow and shoved her hands in her back pockets. 

"I...I didn't get any letters. Not lying, are you?" I could tell when Hannah was lying, and this wasn't it. Any time Hannah lied, she'd have a crooked smile. 

"Where'd you send them?"

"I wasn't sure where you lived, so I sent them to your parents' home."

I laughed.

"What's so funny?" 

"Mom must have burned them." I burst into deep laughter.

"I'm glad you find--"

"It's not what you think." I rested my hand on her shoulder. "Mom has dementia. Mom had told me she'd burn the mail because I paid the bills for her online. What can I say? Mom didn't want the paper to go to waste. She was a super environmentalist."

Hannah's mouth fell open, not closing. She lowered her body to my brown leather sofa and dropped her chin. "So, I poured my heart out to a -- for a fireplace?"

"Well, I've got time. What did you say in those letters?"

Hannah straightened her back and motioned. "It's like this. I wrote about how wrong I was, and if you'd respond, I'd get on the first thing smoking back to you."

"That's it? You wanted to rub the fact that you were wrong in my face?"

"I guess I don't understand?"

"You knew that I knew you were making the biggest mistake of your life."

"Didn't try too hard to stop me either," Hannah said, covering her mouth. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Let me guess -- this is my fault."

Hannah blew out her lips and slumped in the chair. "What's under the cushion?" 

I scratched the back of my neck. "Just some papers. Don't look at--"

"A manila folder," Hannah said. She shuffled through the folded. "The letters--"

"So, I had them. Sue me."

"You had my letters all along." Tears spread Hannah's cheeks. "You kept my letters for five years."

"When I was feeling down, I'd read through them. I'd shuffle them like a deck of cards and pull out a note from the center."

Hannah stood to her feet, closing the distance between us. "Forgive me?"

I cleared my throat. "Am I supposed to?"

"I wouldn't if I were you." Hanah smiled through glassy eyes. 

I wrapped my arms around Hannah. "How could I not forgive you?"

"I feel safe when I'm with you." She let out a sigh.

"And you'll always be safe with me." I kissed her warm lips.