C H A P T E R O N E .

2.4K 22 5
                                    




The winds howl startled me awake making me rise from my slumber and examine the other side of my bed, which was still empty. Eleven o'clock. Perhaps the argument we had earlier made him want to make a bold move and sleepover at her house, but that wasn't my business; at least not anymore. My inner dialog began to take over as I stared at the wrinkly sheets that were once hidden by his hollow figure.

Things seem to change so fast. Of course, it is only in our nature as humans to grow and develop. It's just--
when in relationships, your partners grow with you and learn to accept all the new versions of yourself. Not in ours though, at least, not for him. People get so caught up in the potential of connections and neglect the present moment. Often too blinded by the rose-colored lenses to see the reality of what is going on. It's tragic because once people realize they had not been present they fall victim to another cycle. A vicious cycle of being in a loop of reflecting on the future then the past. It is often a never-ending cycle until they finally realize the amount of damage they have done to one another.

Due to the extensive efforts and time, we have put into this connection; we find ourselves too hurt to move on and silently say to ourselves, 'We're going to be alright.' Too afraid of the unknown we hurt one another over and over and convince ourselves this is love. This is all we can do for one another, right? We abuse the power we have over one another-- stuck in the past and looking at the previous potential: what could have been. I question why we, as humans, are so afraid of change. Change is inevitable. We have gotten to this point through evolution; evolution is changing to adapt to your surroundings.

I question if it is the obligation to one another that makes us bound together. I question if it is the knowledge that once we take this leap of faith that we will slowly, but surely, become a fragment of one another's memory as more days pass. I question if it is the knowledge that our person will no longer be ours and knowing that we will not have access to them as easily as before.

We will no longer be first.

A lot of times love is not the only thing that can hold a connection together. Of course, love is not easy, but this is no longer love. To properly hold a connection together you have to accept their imperfections, forgive, and love them in their love language. This is something he and I are holding on to for our lives. The red destiny rope has been weathered by distance and the hurt we have inflicted onto one another. Love is not easy but loving him up until this point was-- it would be a shame if we were to part before we can be better to one another.

Here I, wiping the condensation off the windows search for him in the parking lot, falling victim to the vicious cycle once more.

I walked into the living room only to stop and listen to the shuffling outside of my door. Distractions... distractions-- we all love distractions. It had become a habit to listen to people's struggles and worries, I guess it helped me numb my own and not feel as bad about mine.

I peeped from the peephole in my door at our new neighbor in the condo in front of me, he had dark hair falling just below his ears that appeared stringy due to the rain that he was caught in the midst of, his jacket was drenched in rain. He appeared to be about the age of Dexter.

I went back into the kitchen and searched the empty fridge for anything but space. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I slapped the refrigerator shut flicking my wrist and holding my stomach, " looks like you aren't going to get fed today, Maxine," I whined looking back out the peephole because of a heavy thud on the door.

Dexter.

I opened the door. Harper stared at me... her eyes widened as she readjusted Dexter's arm around her neck, pulling him closer by the waist. The neighbor from earlier walked up the hall with a box in his arms investigating the situation, he huffed out shaking his head, and gave me a small sympathetic smile, though his eyes didn't.

"He got pretty drunk... We happened to be going the same way so I caught a cab with him..." her voice faded as she watched me stare at my drunken husband pressed against her closer than he had been with me the last few months.

Envy.

My lips slightly parted and I was suddenly able to feel every crack in them," mhm-hm" no words were able to exit. I nodded grabbing his arm and ushering him inside.

I could visibly see her nails digging into his arms as I pulled him away from her. I am not sure why I accepted this and acted oblivious. She was no longer smiling and watched him carefully making sure he did not get too close to me, his wife.

I shut the door as her eyes wandered around, acting as if she had never entered before.

I rested him on our sofa. He was soaked in rain and he lightly shook. I reached out to feel his hair, but he turned on his side.

What have I ever done to you?

I left to the bathroom. I stared at myself. My shoulders were now damp and I lightly touched where his arm rested on me. I bent over the sink slightly and touched my face where small wrinkles began to form.

His silhouette crept closer and he stumbled his way to the bathroom with me, head in hand. He reached past me, careful to not touch, and grabbed a towel. I searched for his eyes and he refused to look at me.

" It's obvious we both feel the same-" the words came out of my mouth before I had time to think.

I've given you nothing but love and affection throughout our union.

" let's go through with this... I want a divorce. " The words burned in my throat and tears stung my eyes, I turn up to the ceiling trying to stop any tears that beg to fall.

" Maxine. " his voice shook. He now looked for my eyes that were too afraid to look at his.

Why did we have to do it this way, I thought he promised. But forever means never in our world.

My lip quivered opposing to what I'd said before. He no longer cared that I was hurt though, my eyes scurried around avoiding gaze further.

His fingers traced my jaw, " I never said I wanted to get a divorce..." his voice quiet but ever so poisonous.

I tried, I tried so hard not to meet his gaze, for I knew what it would mean if I did. I hated that he knew he had so much control over me; he always used it to his advantage.

" Leave." I gently slapped his hand away from my face, " We are fighting for something that does not exist anymore Dex, we have to let one another go."

His hand wrapped around my waist as I walked away. Like a drug almost, his touch was so addictive, and I knew it was bad but I craved it still.

" Don't do this to me."

"I said the same thing when you ruined our marriage, yet you ignored me." His grip grew tighter at my comment.

He began letting his body speak for his actions. He tugged at my body, reeling me closer to him, and kissed the nape of my neck then shoulder.


"Stop fighting the passion..." His voice whispered in my ear while he pressed me closer to him.

Passion. The only thing left of our connection. Anger brewed emotions and our obligation to one another to warm the emotions, over and over. Hurting one another has become so addictive... mirroring one another, convincing ourselves this is just our love. Codependency seems to be the only thing keeping Dexter from fully letting go.

Our reflections in the mirror looked so much more loving than we felt. I guess it is easy for those on the outside looking in to think our dynamic is perfect.

OUR FRAME OF MINDWhere stories live. Discover now