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Passions in Prose

A Difficult Relationship

rvall
New Member

since 2010-10-21

Posts 8

0 posted 2010-10-22 07:49 PM

           “A difficult relationship piece,” I think to myself. Maybe if I keep thinking about it something will come to mind. How about something about my dad? I think back and I can’t really think of anything troubling with him. My mom is an angel. There is nothing difficult about that. I keep looking at this blank piece of paper. Hopefully, if I stare at it long enough, it will write itself. I look at my cell phone to check the time, and there she is as my background. Melissa, my girlfriend of almost four years. Four long years. Four difficult years. But, where do I start in a “difficult relationship?” I guess in the beginning. I pick up my pen.

            “Will you go out with me?” Jason asked her, while walking back from the park. They held hands even though they were not together. It was a beautiful spring afternoon, and it seemed as if the weather was meant for them.
            “Only on one condition,” Melissa said, while looking down to her walking feet.
            “What is it? I’ll do anything.”
            “You can’t hurt me,” she told him. He could see she was worried. She knew he cheated on his last girlfriend. That was two years ago, and he wanted her to know that he had changed. He had learned so much about women from his last relationship. He knew he would not cheat. Not on her.
            “I won’t hurt you,” he held her hand tighter, “I promise.” They stopped walking. It may have been that they were at a crosswalk or because of the intenseness of the moment. “I know you think I will cheat on you,” he said while looking into her eyes, “but I can’t do that to someone again.”
            “I trust you,” she spoke softly. “I’m just afraid to get hurt.”
            “Do you promise not to hurt me?” he smiled.
            “How could I hurt you?” he laughed. “You are so much bigger then me.”
            He laughed with her, “You know what I mean!”
            Jason walked home. He was so excited about this relationship. He felt it, the feeling of butterflies flying in his stomach. There seemed to be no stopping him, even the traffic lights went his way. He felt like skipping. Everything around him felt so colorful, everything was so soft and everything was right in the world. Is this what drugs are like? He thought to himself.

            I put down my pen. The irony of the beginning of our relationship was heart breaking. “Promise not to hurt me?” Wow, that ended fast. How could we have promised something so stupid? It is obvious people will get hurt in relationships. But, I can’t believe how much more she hurt me. Is that my phone is ringing, where did I put it?
            “Hey, Melissa.”
            “Hey, Jason are you busy?”
            “No, I’m just working on a paper.”
            “Why didn’t you do it earlier?” She sounds annoyed.
            “I didn’t do it earlier because I was at work.”
            “I thought we were supposed to hang out tonight. Don’t you want to see me? Are you avoiding me?” Sometimes you make me want to yell, Melissa.
            “What? Where did you get ‘I’m avoiding you’ from all that”
            “You’re right, I’m sorry. Are you with anyone?” Good thing she calmed down.
            “No, I’m here alone.”
            “May I please come visit you?” I love it when you are unnecessarily polite.
            “Sure, you can come over.”
            “I love you”
            “Ok, I love you too.”
            This rollercoaster you put me on is going to end our relationship. I picked up my pen.

            Melissa and Jason only got to see each other when there was school. On the weekends she had ballet and he had work. They often got together after school, but both of their homes had supervision. Thus there was little hope for a romantic setting. They often spent their time before class together, outside of the school, to offer some sort of privacy. It was the morning of Jason and Melissa’s first month together; some younger couples they celebrate each month.
            “So, for our first month together, I got you flowers.” Jason had them behind his back, and then moved the twelve roses to his front to show her.
            “Baby, you didn’t have to!” Melissa blushed. “I got you something too!” She reached into her bag and grabbed two rings tied together by a piece of rope. When both the rings came together they formed a heart. She then reached for his hand but it only fit on his pinky finger.
            “That’s okay.” He smiled. Jason then undid his necklace and put the ring through there. “See, this way it will be closer to my heart.”
            “Aw, that is so romantic,” she exclaimed in her high-pitched voice.

            I have to stop writing. This is gross. I’m not sure if it was because we were in high school or what. Do all high school kids throw up happiness, love, and rainbows on each other? Is it about the sex? At that point we were still virgins. We did not lose it to each other for about another month or so. Why were we like this back then and what happened to us? Why did we change so drastically? If I keep writing will it become clearer to me?
            I’m afraid to write. I don’t want it to become clearer to me. I love her too much. I mean we do have our ups and our downs, but who doesn’t? I really doubt our relationship would end because of this paper. That is just stupid.
            Still, I’m curious as to where everything went downhill. I continue to write.

            Melissa and Jason were a perfect couple. All of their friends got along together. Their parents knew they were dating. Melissa’s parents loved Jason, while his mom and dad also loved how helpful Melissa was around the house. Jason’s mom would always have to hide the broom so she wouldn’t sweep.
            “You are my son’s girlfriend,” his mom went on. “And you are a guest in my house. You will not touch this broom.” After that his mom left Jason’s room.
            Melissa and Jason hardly had any alone time together. Their parents seemed to trust them, but they kept them on a leash. Jason’s room was filled with blank walls. No posters. Only a TV, a desk, a dresser, and a bed.
            “It is so nice to see you and my mom get along so well,” Jason laughed.
            “I feel so bad. Every time I come over, she always feeds me and washes the dishes. I want to help somehow.” Melissa sounded sad.
            Jason looked around and noticed something, “This is the first time we are alone.”
            “You are right.” She pounced on him. Like an unsuspecting gazelle gets pounced on by a lioness. Her short stature was no longer evident when she had her legs around his waist. It was the first time they got to explore the body of the opposite sex outside of their dull science books.
            After they were done exploring all Jason could muster was “Wow.”
            “Thank ballet.” she was out of breath. She was now wrapped around his arm. They were on his bed for hours just looking at the white ceiling. Neither of them had to speak, they both knew it. It might have been the raging hormones or something else, but they thought they were in love.
            Then after a few months college started. Both of them were in his room. Being in his room became more common practice because their parents started to trust them more. Neither of them had ever lived on their own, but now they were excited to do so. Thankfully, they both went to the same university. Their dorms, however, were on different campuses.
            “It is only like a campus bus away,” Jason explained to Melissa, who was saddened by this.
            “I know,” she told him. “I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you being around girls. Lots of girls. They walk around in their towels half naked.”
            He knew she was self- conscious. It made her very paranoid when it came to him being without her. He thought it was something all girls went through. All he could do was tell her she was beautiful and that she was the only girl for him. He knew those were only words. They could not calm down her paranoia.
            “The only half naked girl I want to see is right in front of me.”
            “What about parties? There are going to be drunk girls grinding all over you,” she continued.
            “Who said I am going to any parties? Besides why would I want a drunk girl, when I can have a sober one.” He tried to be as sincere as possible. It was enough for her. This time.
            A few weeks into classes and neither of them were ready for what college brought. Not only were the classes fast paced and unforgiving, the temptation was everywhere. Both of their dorms were filled with half naked people. Only then that Jason remembered that Melissa was the only girl he had been with.
            The curiosity killed him. He suppressed it, like an unwanted erection. He had to, for their future. Then one day she called him.
            “Hey, baby, what’s up?” Jason answered.
            “I failed a midterm.” Melissa had been crying. “I think we need to take a break. You know how hard this is for me. I just want to do really well in-”
            “If that is what you need to do for your grades, then do it. I don’t want to come between you and your grades.”
            “Thank you, Jason. Look, I won’t do anything with anyone else, but if you want to see other girls, I understand.” She sniffled.
            “You know I don’t want that. I have to go, I have to study for a test. I love you,” flew out of his mouth. Truth be told, curiosity struck him like a brick.
            “I love you too,” she said before she hung up.
            Jason’s mind was now running a mile a minute. He now had the pass to go around and sleep with other girls. He was able to do so, all while keeping his relationship with the girl he loved.
            They still kept in touch through text messages and phone calls. He usually called her before he went to sleep. However, this soon changed. He now only called her before going out to party. He abused his free pass and passed down what he learned from the ballerina to other girls. They were never as flexible as her, and never as loving. Nonetheless, this seemed to feed his insatiable curiosity. It also reminded him of his girlfriend. He missed her. No two girls are the same, and having sex with random girls was not the same as making love to Melissa. However, this thought did not slow him down. It became more of a game, like looking at two pictures and trying to find the differences. However, instead of looking at differences he was trying to find similarities that just did not exist.

            I stopped writing. I suppose this is where things between us started going downhill. That freedom was too much for me to handle. It was also too much for her to handle. It is kind of weird being able to see what I had done wrong by writing it down. I should have known that she also was a teenager. She would also miss making love. She would also miss our hour-long conversations. She would also miss holding my hand. This is the worst. I feel like I killed our relationship by neglecting her feelings. But, we were on break. I thought she was studying. I should have seen signs or something. I have to keep writing.

            Jason and Melissa had agreed on meeting on their monthly anniversary. It was something they had kept even though they did not see each other as often. There were no more gifts. Everything seemed different, Jason thought to himself. They decided to meet at Jason’s dorm because his roommate had gone away for the weekend.
            They were on his bed, looking up at the ceiling when he goes in to kiss her.
            “Can we just cuddle?” She seemed upset.
            “What’s wrong?” Jason was confused.
            “Last night I went to a party,” she started. “There was this guy I’ve been friends with for a while and we started dancing. Well, grinding. He kissed me.”
            Jason was distraught. He didn’t know what to think. His perfect relationship was slipping away faster than he could catch it. “Did you kiss him back?”
            She nodded.

            I really can’t take it anymore. The more I continue to write the more I see what went wrong. I see that I should have been more attentive. It isn’t too late to correct these mistakes, but how much can one relationship take? Blood rushes to my ears. I am overreacting. All this is in the past. I can’t go back in time to change my mistakes. I can only look forward and not make the same ones. What about her? What if she keeps making the same mistakes? I can only take so much.
            My phone is ringing. Melissa is here. I open the door and there she is. All of that ballet really paid off. Her figure makes an hourglass jealous. Her hazel eyes reminds of me of sunrises. Honestly, I can stare at her for hours. She hugs me and the smell of her perfume is enough to have every memory of when we were this close, flood back.
            “Happy whatever month we are on,” she likes to hug for a long time.
            “I think we are month 52 if you count consecutively. If you count our breaks we are on month 40.”
            “Seriously?”
            I nod.
            “How do you remember that?”  Her eyebrow was raised.
            “Well, my love, last month it was 51, and 39. So naturally the month after is 52 and 40.”
            She laughs. She has the nicest laugh.
            “Are you hungry?”
            “Yes, I am pretty hungry.” She plops down on my couch. “What do you have to eat?”
            “As you know I make a mean bowl of cereal. I also have some chicken and rice my mom made.”
            “I would love something your mom made.” She smiles. I knew she would. “Do you mind if I watch some TV?”
            “Of course not,” I yell, as I’m halfway to the kitchen. I find the frying pan. Of course my roommates never clean anything after they use it. What pisses me off the most is that it is my frying pan. After I clean and dry it, I put it on the burner and start the fire. Where is that oil? I lower the fire and try to look for the oil. After I find it I pour just enough on the pan. Then, I get the food and spread it across the skillet. I grab the spatula and move the rice and chicken together. The smell alone brings me back home. After I judged it was done I put the food on a plate and started walking it to Melissa.
            Before she asked me I knew what she was going to say. I now understand the moments when a movie’s protagonist drops the plate out of shock. She already had tears in her eyes. I already assessed what was going on but I couldn’t believe what I had done.
            “What is this?” she waves the pages I had just written. I had left them in the living room.
            I feel like nothing I say will help. “It is the assignment for my class.”
            “You know what I mean! ‘He usually called her before he went to sleep. He now only called her before going out to party,’” she reads from my work. She is now yelling it “‘He abused his free pass and passed down what he learned from the ballerina to other girls.’ Is that all I am to you, a ballerina to practice on?  Why the hell do you keep bringing that up? I haven’t danced in years!”
            I put down the food. I stand here not knowing what to say. I want to fix everything. I feel useless. I hate it when she cries. It upsets me so much.
            “You know what is the worst part?” She smiles. It is not a happy smile.
            I already know the worst part, but I don’t have the courage to raise my voice. I knew where this was headed before she started yelling. I feel like I’m in a car crash in slow motion.
            “You said it was one girl. You said it was only one other girl you had sex with. You said you had no remembrance of it. You said you were too drunk to remember. You lied. You’ve been lying to me this whole time. How many girls was it?” She gets off the couch and starts walking towards me. Her eyes are bloodshot and her hands are shaking.
            My whole face is red. My legs feel like they are about to stumble over. I want to cry. But I can’t. I’m in the wrong.
            “How many girls did you sleep with?” she sounds like the perfect mix of disgust and sadness.
            “More then one.”
            “How many was it?” her voice is raised.
            “About twenty.”
            “I know how you are, Jason. You know the exact number.”
            “Twenty-one. I slept with twenty-one girls.”
            I didn’t see her hand coming but I didn’t have to. I knew it was coming. I barely felt the slap, but I could feel the numbness afterwards.
            “Why didn’t you just tell me? Why weren’t you honest?” She must see the look of confusion on my face because she keeps talking. “I told you I didn’t care if you saw other girls. You wrote it here, too.”
            “I guess that is where I went wrong.” I didn’t mean to say anything. It just came out on its own.
            “You know what, at least I had a good reason to be self- conscious. You were going around sleeping other girls.”
            She gives me this look that's stitched to the fabric of bedtime tales that keeps the kids out of the attic. All that is running in my head is how I messed up our relationship. I should have never written that piece. Writing that brought everything I’ve done to light. Even to me. It can’t end like this. But, it will. I feel it. I feel the pain emanating from her body. I have to say something. I want to try to make her feel better.
            “I know you are going to hate me for this. I know you don’t want to listen to what I have to say. But please listen. After writing all that I can see I was not caring as I should have been towards you. I’m sorry it took all of this to make me realize the emotional distress I put you through. I lied to you about the amount of girls I’ve slept with, but does that change what happened between us? Does it change the times I’ve made you laugh? Does it change the times I’ve made you smile? Do all the night we’ve spent together go away? Having sex with all those girls was stupid and immature but it made me see how much I needed you. I had sex with those girls. I make love to you.” The tears run down my face. I couldn’t hold them in.
            She closes the distance between us. She holds me tighter then ever before. It is suffocating but it might be the last hug we ever have. I don’t want to let go. Not to her and not to us. But as we hug I know it has to end.
            “Don’t leave me.” She cries to me. “Just don’t leave me.”
            “You know I don’t want to. But we can’t keep doing this to each other. We can’t keep hurting each other. I broke the first promise I made to you. I’ve broken countless promises to you. You’ve broken countless promises to me. I’m in love with you and I can’t keep hurting you. I can’t keep seeing you in pain.”
            She slowly loosens her grip on but doesn’t completely let me go. She looks at me and gives me a kiss, our last kiss. Her lips are so familiar to me. Kissing her is almost as easy as breathing. We have the perfect synchrony. She tries to hurt me but the scratches and strikes are almost erotic.
            “I don’t want to let you go but you are right. We can’t keep on like this. Don’t mistake me being a mess for not being mad at you. That kiss was for the good times, so I can have something good to remember you by.” She lets me go and walks out of the house. I go to the couch once more and I pick up my pen. I try to collect my thoughts. All I keep thinking about is how I could change what happened just now. I write about tonight.

“Don’t leave me, Jason.” Melissa cried.
“I will never leave you.”

            I change the ending so that that Melissa and Jason could have a happy ending.
Writing that essay shows everything I did wrong. Instead of it being inside of me, it is now out on paper, for everyone to read

JamesMichael
Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-16

Posts 33336
Kapolei, Hawaii, USA

1 posted 2010-10-26 07:22 PM

Lots of words here to read...James

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