The Mad House

Devastation

    "If you're going to leave, why don't you take everything?" she asked.
    I'm not sure whether I was packing or walking out the door when she asked me that, but I am sure my heart, that was sitting in my stomach causing me pain all morning, finally dropped out of my ass and shattered on the wooden floors. "Because I love you and I don't want to leave," I shouted from the mountaintops in my mind. But the words never escaped my mouth. I'm not sure what face I made, but I imagine it was a sad or horrific look as I gathered the rest of my belongings before walking out the door and letting out a small cry the moment I pulled the door shut.
    My head hung low as I walked down the hallway alone. I was alone. I'm okay with being alone because I am a loner, but not if being alone meant being without her. You see, she is the yang to my yin. We are different as day and night, but fit together like puzzle pieces, at least that's what I thought and felt until today. Scratch that, I still do feel that way. But does she? I doubt it. She didn't tell me she wanted me to stay and she did tell me to take all of my things. She can't want me around if she wants every trace of me in her apartment gone. I rode the elevator to the bottom floor alone and carried my bags to my car alone.
    I pulled on the driver's side door handle of the car, knowing it would open, except it didn't. I tugged on the door handle a few more times before looking into my purse. I left my keys upstairs. I also left my water and my tea, but I won't bother with that because I'm enough of a burden for upsetting her and leaving my keys. I called her to ask for my keys and she told me she'd bring them down. A few tears began to escape my eyes and I told myself to toughen up. She wasn't going to cry over me, so I needed to not cry over her. She was probably happy I was finally out of her space.
    Before I knew it, she was walking out of the door towards my car. I decided to meet her halfway on the walkway because I felt bad for upsetting her and inconveniencing her by making her come downstairs. I felt like a piece of shit and I needed to make up for it, even if it was by doing something as simple as not expecting her to walk all the way to my car to give me keys I forgot. When we did finally get face to face, she put the keys in my hand and walked away. She looked content, happy even. I made the right choice by leaving because the last time I saw her face upstairs, she looked aggravated and annoyed. I aggravated and annoyed her.
    After loading my car with my luggage and handbag, I burst into tears that ended up covering my steering wheel. I thought I was a good woman to her, just not good enough. I tried so hard to make her happy. Clearly, I didn't try hard enough. I gave her my all, but I still fell short. I'm never going to see her again. We're over. She's going to move on and be happier without me. At least she'll be happier. That is why I left, because I felt like she was unhappy and she didn't want me around. I felt unwelcome and hurt. I felt like she didn't love me anymore and she didn't want me anymore. I felt useless in her life.
    I cried for at least thirty minutes before I finally started the car and left. No call or text. I drove with the radio off and continued to cry because I felt like I failed at being the person I wanted to be for her. I wanted to be her breath of fresh air. Instead, I was a plastic bag in the wind, annoying, stifling. I drove down the highway thinking of everywhere I could've went wrong. I replayed scenario after scenario and conversation after conversation over and over in my mind. I wanted to have a conversation with her about us working on our relationship and I wanted to take her to a movie afterwards. Instead, I was on the highway on the way home, mentally beating myself up. It was over and it was my fault.
    I drove for two hours crying on and off before I decided I needed to talk. I couldn't continue to beat myself up when it takes two to make or break a relationship. I also needed clarity. I called her and she picked up the phone sounding normal as ever. She asked if I was home and I told her no. I can't remember how, but we then got into a long conversation about our relationship that lasted the last hour and a half of my drive home. She was tired of the same issues arising in our relationship and I was tired of our communication issues. The difference is I was willing to stick around and try to make things work and she was unsure, which to me sounded like she wanted out. She thinks we're too different and we see the world too differently. I agree. I don't think our differences should keep us apart though. I think we should work harder to understand each other, pay more attention to each other because we come from two different worlds. But maybe her world has no room for people like me. Maybe no world does.
    Not long after she made sure I was home safe, she was off the phone and I was alone with my thoughts and feelings again. I started crying again, but silently because my grandparents were home and I didn't want to alarm them. My grandmother knew I was not myself because I never came home that early after a weekend of being with my love, but she let me be because she knew I needed the alone time. My guinea pigs, which usually greet me with loud squeals, were event silent as I cried into my pillows. I had to stop myself because I didn't want anyone coming to my door asking me what was wrong. That would only make me want to cry more. So I logged on facebook and looked at cat videos to cheer me up. It didn't work. I logged on instagram and looked at the gossip blogs to cheer me up. It didn't work. I logged on twitter and searched the #BlackTwitter hashtag in a final attempt to find something to cheer me up. It didn't work. I was a wreck at the thought of losing the woman I saw my future with. Other than my estranged lover's arms, I knew only one thing would be able to cheer me up, a trip to the beach.
    Sunset was almost among me as I took the hour long drive to my favorite beach in my state. The beach was my happy place, my place of clarity, the best place for me to meditate and realign my chakras. When my feet finally touched the sand, I felt at home. I loved the feeling of sand between my toes. It was the beginning of my spirit relaxing and my heart getting in tune with my soul. The wind brushed past my ears and blew my hair back as the sound of the waves sung me a much needed lullabye that grew louder the closer I walked to the water. I stopped at a spot about three feet from where the waves crashed onto the sand and crept up on the beach. I plopped down, crossed my legs, closed my eyes, and breathed in my nose as deeply as I could. I exhaled through my mouth slowly. I continued to breathe in this pattern as the warmth from the setting sun slowly disappeared and the cool night air surrounded me.
    My eyes remained shut as I began to hear an enchanting, soft voice singing. I couldn't understand the words, but the sound of the voice was amazing. It sounded like a woman almost harmonizing with the waves. I didn't open my eyes because the sounds relaxed me so much, I didn't want to move. I just sat, listened, and breathed deeply with my eyes closed. As the sound of the waves got closer, the singing got louder. I still didn't move. I soon felt the water underneath me and I still didn't move. The sound of the singing was now a bit clearer, but not clear enough because I thought my name was being sung. I quickly got rid of that thought, and attributed it to me being an emotional wreck and wanting to hear my estranged lover say my name. I continued to sit there with my eyes closed, breathing heavily, feeling the water underneath me wetting my clothes.
    The waves got higher and higher, covering my whole lower body before retreating back to the Atlantic. I then decided I should get up. I opened my eyes and tried to move my legs, but I couldn't move. Suddenly, the singing I had been meditating to became clear to me. It was a woman singing, "Misery, come with us." I looked down to see the sand looked like molded hands holding me down. The singing disabled me from panicking, and I was tired enough from the emotional war I fought with myself all day, so I did not struggle. The water got higher and higher as the mysterious unseen woman sang out for me to join them. I didn't know who or where she was. I didn't know who "them" was or where I would be joining "them." I didn't know if the sand was really holding me down. I didn't know if I was imagining this whole thing. What I did know is that I was tired. I had been fighting a war inside myself my entire life. I was ready to raise the white flag. I laid back into the rising water and let the waves cover me with sand until I was as invisible as I had been feeling all these years.