ENTRY 4:
[ GARDEN OF EMPTY WORDS ]
DEAR YOU,
Lilacs were your favorite flowers, I remember you telling me.
You liked them soft and slightly wilted, something I thought was odd. Because, who could love a dying flower? Why not love something pure and new, sparkling, and fresh? But I remembered. I remembered how you'd love it when I brought you wilted lilacs that started to rot near the ends. I remembered all the things you loved; the sway of the ocean, the texture of velvet between your fingertips, the scent of grass and honeydew, and the feel of my calloused fingers between your hair, touching your scalp.
I remembered.
I remembered it all.
I remember everything about us, about you and I.
When I told you that you were ugly, said that you were worthless; I'd remember how you loved it when I touched your waist with gentle hands and breathed on your neck. So I whispered apologies against your skin, gentle and smooth.
I'm so sorry. God, I'm sorry. Baby, she meant nothing. She was nothing, I said. I love you. I don't love her. I love you. I'm sorry.
I kissed, said you were beautiful.
I kissed, said you brought meaning to my life.
I kissed, said you were my love.
You'd smile at me, lips stretched across your thin face, wide and beautiful. You would let your fingers drag across my cheek, wiping my tears. You'd tell me it was okay, that I had made a mistake.
I always made mistakes, I remember.
I remembered the things you hated, too.
I remembered it all.
Everything.
You hated when I didn't care, you hated it when I was so impulsive, you hated it when I drank, you hated it when I brought pretty girls from the bar home, you hated it when I was cruel. I remembered that look you'd give me when my hands slid too far up a girl's skirt. I'd stare at you as my fingers skimmed up her thighs.
Your eyes were darker, face flushed, and your big beautiful eyes staring at your fingers again, picking at the skin near your nails.
I was so cruel, I know.
It was stupid, I remember.
I wanted you to tell me to stop, to push you to the edge; I did it for you. I wanted you to tell me that it was enough, to raise your voice, and tell me that I was out of line. I wanted you to rip out of your shell, and put me in my place. I wanted you to scream, to scream so loud your lungs twisted, I wanted you to lunge. I wan't you to kick, to scream, to bite! I wanted you to hurt me, to destroy me, I wanted you to put me in my place!
I didn't know that you'd always let me go so far, I really didn't know.
I'd watch you, stare almost, as I pressed my lips against another woman's throat. I waited for you to react, but you never did.
You just picked at your skin; picking, picking, and picking.
But you never stopped me, I remember.
Why must you be so goddamn cruel? You asked me one night, voice scratchy and rough. I had gotten home late; with her smell on me. Jasmine and honey. You were sitting near the widow, staring outside, holding a half-finished cigarette between your puffy lips. I didn't need to see your eyes to know that you'd been crying, because I remember, you only ever smoked after you cried. I love and love, but all you do is break me. You... you fucking asshole.
I didn't break you, I said.
I would slid my jacket off my shoulders, onto the ground bellow. It would land with a thud that rung through the room of our tiny apartment. Do you remember our first apartment. It always smelt of baked bread and soup. The walls were painted red and covered with framed photos of us.
I miss that house.
Oh, you did! You broke me, you replied, finally looking at me, you break me every time you look at the other girls like that. You break me. One day, I'm gonna have enough. I'm gonna just—just, you pulled at your scalp, hard and violent, I'm gonna do it. You're gonna make me do it! And it'll be all your fucking fault!
Oh, baby, I whisper, feeling my heart swell. I'm so sorry—I don't mean to, I really don't... I'm sick, I'm fucking twisted. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm troubled, you know that. I'm sorry.
You always looked so pretty when you cried; face flushed, eyes brighter, and lips larger. There was something about it, something that made me want to stare at you. I walked forward, but you flinched. I dropped to my knees, pressing my face against your bare lap. My skin touching yours, your skin so soft and fresh.
Is that what you want? You asked, a deathly muteness in your tone. You looked deranged, wild, almost. But empty. So empty. For me to die? Is that it? Is that what you want? I swear, I will. I'll do it. If that's what you want, I will. I swear it. I'll kill myself, I'll put your name on the fucking bullet, and point it at my heart. So everyone knows that you did this to me.
I put my hand on your shoulder, pressed my lips on yours.
No, I said. I don't want that. You know that. I'm sorry.
You said my name, I said yours.
Baby.
I promised to try harder, I told you that you had been the best thing in my life. You were. You were the greatest part of me.
I kissed your knee, then your thigh, then further, and further... I knew that you wanted me to be gentle that day, so I was.
Remember?
Remember how I treated you like porcelain and silk?
That night we laid in bed, with your face still puffy and red. Your body had been tangled with mine; legs wrapped around mine, arms wrapped around mine. I didn't even mention the harsh red line against your thigh, that throbbed and ached, because I knew you didn't like when I did. So we stared at the ceiling, both fragile and bare.
I really do love you, I said after some time.
I wanted to tell you that you could never leave me, because I couldn't think about a life outside of you. But, I didn't.
You sighed, pressing your face against my chest.
As much as you can love someone, you replied.
I didn't have time to mention it, or ask what you meant. I felt your soft, even breathing on my chest, gentle-like. What did you mean? What did you mean when you said that? I think about that, for hours and hours, at night. I can love. I can feel. I loved. I know what I felt—it had to be love. What else could it be?
I kissed your forehead, whispering good-night.
You never said it back.
FROM ME.
