Being Someone's Doormat

It’s sometime in June of 2011, you’re on a long walk with her; going nowhere fast. The kiss of a sweet summer breeze caresses you and wafts some of her perfume straight to your olfactory cells. You love this about her, among other things of course. Things like her laugh, smile, the way her voice seemed to tickle your eardrums every time she spoke. You stride down a dimly light street, hand in hand, not a care in the world. She’s talking but you can’t hear a word. There’s a question on your mind and you just can’t seem to eradicate it. You make a decision; utter what you consider the most important words of your 16 years of existence. “Will you go out with me?”. As you speak its like an out of body experience. Like you’re watching someone else in a very intimate moment. You’re sucked back into your flesh suit, year ears are ringing. You just see her smile, you know the answer, but its not enough. You need to hear it. She embraces you, and you her. Intoxicated in the oxytocin fueled moment you feel like one being.

This is the beginning.

Rumors. She told you to not worry about them, but their reoccurrence and consistency has ignited your speculation. You ask her. Your question yields a defensive response. A defensive response produces yet another argument. Another bullshit argument you think. Why? Guess I’m not getting laid this week you think to yourself. You snicker at your own humor, not because you’re full of yourself, not yet at least. But because you’re the only person thats allowed to make you laugh anymore. You had forgone that right for her, in an effort to avoid what always happens. But you love her. You’d do anything for her. You’ve come this far so why end it now? This is how relationships work after all; sacrifices.

This is the middle.

The texts you found on her phone, pictures, Facebook messages, whatever else there is. You’ve opened Pandora’s box and couldn't feel more petrified. Nauseated by distress, your hands become cool and clammy, you start shaking, there’s an all too familiar crevasse where your stomach once was. You think you’ll vomit, or will you just start screaming? She’s sleeping now. Think damn it think! You put her phone down after one last reconnoissance mission to confirm what you saw was in fact real. You take a seat and breath in heavy. You realize how dry and cold the air is as it grazes your olfactory cells, it feels like you're inhaling sand. This time there’s no hit of perfume to straighten you out. The sun has set some time ago and darkness has begun to envelope you and the world you know. You place your head in your hands, you are alone.

This is the end.