dearoldlove:

I realized today that I can’t remember when our anniversary was. And I smiled.

I’m really starting to think so. Lately, I’ve been letting depression take over my life & I don’t understand why. Things just aren’t the same as they were before, and I feel this empty hole inside, which is a bit ridiculous. I have nothing to be upset about, I just feel as if something’s missing. Is it God? Is it love? Honestly who knows anymore, it’s just all rather confusing. Sorry for this, just needed to vent :)

Is this real or is it all a dream? I’m beginning to confuse reality with imagination, the line that separates the two is beginning to blur. I can’t focus without mental illusions clouding my mind. I shouldn’t have skipped my medication, it’s time to swallow one of those little blue pills.

As I go about my daily tasks, I can’t recall how I got to where I’m at. Where did the day go? How did I get here? Why am I here? Questions flood my mind, expanding the confusion to a painful sense of not knowing. I’ve lost contact with people I use to talk to all the time. I’m not even sure who these people once were or what they meant, all I know is we no longer speak. My house has become a nightmare, all blinds pulled down, no light at all. The TV and radio never play so there is only silence, just silence. Silence for my mind to wander these questions as to what and why I do the things I do.

A telephone rings, breaking this silence. I answer it and a voice begins to speak. It is high pitched and familiar, yet I can’t recall how I know them.

“Eric? ERIC! Are you ok?” The voice cries out through the receiver of the phone. Eric? Eric? Who is Eric? Is that me or did she accidentally call? 

“So sorry, but I’m not sure who you’re looking for,” I answer the woman for she sounds as frighten as I feel.

“Oh thank god! I’ll be over to get you,” The woman says and clicks off the phone. So she’s coming to get me? Who is she? Why is she coming to get me? Where is she taking me? My palms sweat and I begin to hum as I shake. The only thing I can concentrate on is my humming, it soothes my head. How I hate this feeling. Should I leave? Where would I go? I begin to rock back in forth, frustrated that I can ask all the questions but develop no answers.

A bell rings. I’m scared to leave where I sit, so I pretend I’m not here. The woman’s voice yells and echoes through the walls, hurting my ears and I grab at them begging for it to stop. 

“ERIC! LET ME IN RIGHT NOW!” The voice screams at me. I cry, I don’t know what else to do. The door is being attacked, shaking as it’s hit over and over again. The door begins to cry with the sound of wood splitting. I am sad for the door. 

“STOP IT!” I scream, my voice overpowering the door and the questions in my head. There is silence once again. No questions, crying, or hollering. I begin to recognize my surroundings and understand what has happened. I stop shaking and stand up and walk to the door. I open it to the see the woman, my mother. 

“Hello Mum,” I smile at her and she looks exhausted, “Lovely day we’re having aren’t we?”

Alexandria was my best friend growing up. A lot of people didn’t understand our friendship, but something just tied us together. I remember the first day I met her. It was the first day of kindergarten. I had never been in a daycare or any type of schooling before, and I remember being absolutely terrified. All of the other children were so intimidating, with their sticky hands and boisterous attitudes. I was so quiet and scared, not knowing anyone. Then I saw her sitting there. She was so pretty, her black hair plaited with bows and her dress nicely ironed. She was coloring all by herself, looking like she couldn’t be happier doing anything else. I nervously walked over to where she was sitting and sat down beside her. She was coloring a flower, a daisy to be exact. I sat and watched her in silence until she looked up at me. I noticed her beautiful, honey colored eyes as she watched me.
“Hi,” she said with a grin, a few teeth missing.
“Hi,” I shyly said back. That was the beginning of our friendship.
We continued being great friends through grade school. I was always over her house, she was never allowed at mine, I didn’t understand why at the time. “She’s just not.. well honey, she’s different. She’s not our kind of people,” My mother would say to me every time I begged Alex to come over. It didn’t matter though, I loved going to Alex’s house. Her house wasn’t as nice as mine had been, but her family was the nicest I’ve ever met. They were always smiling and gracious in every way.
When Alex and I got older, maturing in ways we didn’t quite understand, things became different. It was seventh grade and I was over Alex’s house with her working on school work. We were talking and joking, like we always did, when Alex asked me a question.
“Jack have you ever kissed anyone before?” I stopped, stunned at this. I thought about things like this all the time, but didn’t think girls did also.
“N-no, I haven’t. H-have you?” I stammered the words out, swallowing hard as I waited for the answer.
“No,” Alex sighed, “I really want to though.” My body froze as I heard this. I was so nervous and began to have raging thoughts. I looked over at Alex and my body started to work all on it’s own. I leaned in and kissed her.
It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever experienced. I was lighter than air. I remember going home, telling my parents that I was in love. They were furious. I can still remember the feeling as my father beat me, screaming, “What the fuck’s wrong with you boy? Lovin’ a god damn nigger, we raised you better than that!” My mother cried in the background, and as I went to my room, I cried too.
I wasn’t allowed to see Alex any longer, although I still did. I saw her in school, when I was suppose to be at the library, and even in my dreams. My world surrounded Alex. We continued to be good friends, never anything more for fear of my parents finding out.
We entered high school together, a much bigger pond then what we were use to. We didn’t have as many classes together and started seeing less of each other. Alex began dating a colored boy named Chris, someone I didn’t like very much and his feelings were mutual.
“How can you date someone like him? You’re so much better than that Lexi,” I asked in anger, clenching my fists as she told me we couldn’t hang out as much.
“Oh who would you like me to date? You? Ha ha, don’t make me laugh Jack! That’ll never happen!” Alex screamed in my face.
“You’re right! I’d never date a nigger like you!” I screamed out of anger, and realizing what i had said, I became quiet, watching the hurt on her face. “Wait, Lexi.. I didn’t.. No.. That was a mistake. I’m sorry. Lexi, don’t cry, please don’t,” I pleaded with her as she started to cry. I reached over to comfort her, and she flinched away from me as if the touch of my hand would burn her. She slapped me, the sting burning my face.
“That’s what you think of me? Huh Jack?! You know what, fuck you Jack, just fuck you,” Alex spat at me, and ran from me.
The last years of high school were the worst years I ever experienced. I remember trying to apologize to Alex over and over, and all I ever received was the cold shoulder. I was depressed, upset, and different. I had never felt so alone, without having Lexi in my life. It was nauseating, to always be able to see her, but to never speak, to never have my best friend back. I hated my parents, their hatred, and how some of that hatred had rubbed off on me. Most of all, I hated myself.  
Alex and I both graduated high school, no longer friends, and destined to never see each other again. I went off to college and Alex stayed at home to care for her sick mother. College opened my eyes to a different world. At the university, no one was as small-minded as my parents had been. They saw the bigger picture of things, and began to show me the world and how it could be. I was a changed man. I graduated with high marks, along side many new friends, white and black. I went onto a career in law, as a defense attorney for minorities.  I was successful, dating a beautiful woman, and still not happy. I tried simple pleasures to help my mood, nothing worked.
It wasn’t until I had to return to my small hometown, that my spirits lifted. My father had fallen ill and my mother needed help around the house. I had gone to the grocery store to pick a few things up for the house when I saw her. She was standing in line ahead of me, her black hair glistening, her body much more mature than the last time I’d seen her. She had grown into a beautiful woman. I had that feeling of terror, just like I had walking into that kindergarten room. I lightly tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around, her honey colored eyes sweeping over me.
“Hi,” I said as shyly as I had the first day I met her. She stared at me and grinned back.
“Hi Jack,” Lexi spoke to me, not any hatred in her voice at all. We chatted, just random small talk about the weather and life. I invited her to coffee and she kindly accepted.
We began to see each other quite often during that time I was home. I was happy again, almost complete. I forgot about my girlfriend and my worries, and moved my career back to my small town, hoping I could influence my home town to be much more accepting. I’ll never admit this to anyone, but I moved back home to be closer to Lexi.
I had my best friend back. Lexi and I never spoke of the incident until one stormy night. She had agreed to stay the night at my tiny apartment and watch movies, but the electricity went out. We sat in the glow of candles, reminiscing of past memories, the good and the bad.
“You know Jack, I was so hurt by what you called me,” Lexi said sadly. I grabbed her hand, stroking it.
“I know Lex, I’m so sorry, I always was. I couldn’t believe I’d said it,” I gulped back tears.
“Jack, I’ve been called that so many times, I couldn’t even tell you how many, but coming from you? It was worse than all of those times plus some. You know why?” She stopped and looked me in the eyes. I shook my head. “Because I loved you,” Lexi said quietly, a small tear falling from her eyes. “I truly loved you, like really loved you. I always did,” Lexi started to giggle, “From the first time I saw you in kindergarten. You were so geeky with your glasses ha.” She chuckled. I remembered how much I loved her laugh. I leaned in and kissed her, just like seventh grade all over again.
“I love you too,” I said.  
My best friend, Alexandria, the love of my life. She was beautiful and engaging, the best part of my life. Hatred began to tear us apart, but love kept us together. I guess that’s the funny thing about love, it doesn’t see colors. 

It had always been so perfect, or so I recall from memory. Was it something I said, something I’ve done? If only an answer could stop my wandering mind, but it won’t. He gives me answers, but none justify what has happened. They all sound like excuses, excuses to get away from me. Didn’t he love me, wasn’t he happy? His answer is hollow, saying whatever he can to make me happy, but that’s not what I want. I want the truth, some fault of mine to grasp onto, to understand it was somehow both our faults, not just his. If we’re both at fault, we both can come up with a solution. Yet, I can’t even come up with a fault of my own. Maybe it was neither of our faults, just hers. Yes, It’s all her fault, she’s the reason we’re not happy. No, no that’s not it. I can’t grasp reality, these nights have been a blur. Just a blur of tears, shouting, and confusion. I’m at an all time low, nothing will help. Nothing except… No, I’m stronger than that, I have better solutions for my problems. Even a problem this big, or do I? Maybe it won’t hurt, just this one last time. Just to fix my nauseating headache from this waging battle inside. I mean, it’s only one little, white pill.

It was a cold room, even though it was the middle of summer. Chills ran up her spine as she sat waiting, waiting for a decision that would change not only her life, but everyone around her. Her mother was upset. Her boyfriend was upset. Everyone was upset. Words of regret, anger, and disappointment were thrown her way everywhere she turned. 

“How can you do this? How can you do this to me?!” her aging mother spat in her face.

“You? YOU? What about you?!” the young girl screamed in desperation. She was desperate to make her mother understand, to make anyone understand for that matter. No one could, no one would. No one even bothered to listen. 

When she had spoken to her boyfriend, he was equally as angry as her mother had been. “Why would you even want to do that? We could be happy! We could be a family!”

“But sixteen was to young to be a family… Could no one understand that?” The young girl thought to herself as she sat in that cold room alone. “It may be the wrong decision, but it’s my decision, and my decision alone.”

“The doctor will see you now,” a sharp voice broke through her never ending thoughts. The young girl took a deep breath and stood up. She slowly followed the nurse into a room, a room that would finalize and destroy this uncertainty. The room that would finalize and destroy her family.

It was a dream home. Yellow as a canary, the paint shined off of the newly built home. The house was two stories high, with many windows and white shutters. A cobblestone pathway lead to a beautiful, white door that had a shiny, gold door knocker right on the front of it. A white picket fence lined the beautifully landscaped lawn with it’s freshly cut grass. Birds chirped as they flew from tree to tree and the scent of roses wafted from the bushes that were on the side of the house. 

The white door banged open as two children ran outside. Laughing and screaming with delight, the little girl chased the boy, who had taken her teddy bear. Their mother called out of the window, in an airy voice, “Philip give Lillian BooBear back.” Philip dropped the bear, as he continued to run, right into a muddy puddle. The girl stopped to pick her BooBear up, began to cry, and ran inside to her mother. 

The teddy bear, deemed “BooBear”, was very precious to the little girl. With soft, carmel fur and two button eyes, the bear went everywhere with the little girl. Whenever she was sick, there was BooBear. When she was in school, there was BooBear. BooBear had been a present from the little girl’s mother, something she had made herself.

The young girl ran inside to her mother. Passing the elegant living room and sliding on the shiny, hardwood floors, she found her mother in the kitchen, just finished with  making dessert. Her mother held open her arms and let the little girl fall into a hug.

“Shh.. There, there Lily. BooBear’s okay honey, see? He just needs a quick wash. Mommy will fix it,” the mother cooed as she hushed her crying daughter. The little girl looked up at her mother, then at her bear, then back to her mother. Her mother took the bear out of her hands and walked over to the sink. She began to run water over the mud that lay splattered on the bear. Quickly, the bear was washed and the little girl’s face lit up with joy. 

“Here you go dear,” her mother smiled and handed the bear back to her daughter. The little girl smiled and gave her mother a hug and kiss. 

“I love you mommy,” the little girl said and turned to run back outside.

“I love you too sweetie,” the mother whispered as she watched her daughter’s heels vanishing through the doorway. 

“Lily, honey, are we almost done here? We’re going to be late to the viewing,” a man with slightly graying hair asked. Lily stood looking at the yellow house, it’s paint peeling and dirty from the years, then snapped back into reality. She couldn’t believe how much it had changed. Where her mother’s beautiful rose bushes had been, was a bush overcome by weeds. The door which had once been so bright and clean, stood solemnly with a sick, gray color. There was no more chirping, or any sense of life.  She turned in the yard to face her husband, the overgrown grass tickling her ankles. 

“Yeah I am. We better get going,” Lily sighed, and reached for her husband’s hand. They walked away hand in hand, Lily clasping her husband’s hand, and an old friend’s, BooBear. 

It was fun. It was innocence. A game played on long car rides, when parents wanted to stop the questions of “Are we there yet? How much longer?” A game that developed into more than just petty punches as testosterone and hormones set it.

It was a snowy night, a night of celebration, which lost it’s meaning long ago. The car slid with the ice on the road, yet no sense of caution was felt, just the feeling of flying. Our spirits soared.

There had been five people in the car. Five, four, and three each grabbing the remainder of their clothes as they departed, no care in the world. It was just us. We drove on, laughing at our stupidity and love for the old game.

The snow continued to fall as we drove aimlessly on, no direction in mind. Vehicles’ lights blinded us, our senses impaired, as they drove by and every now and again the word “padiddle” was screamed out. More laughter and loss of clothing.

We pulled onto the side of one of those lonely, country roads. Conversation was tossed back and forth, and a spark was felt. I was so close to him, I could smell the mixture of cigarettes and alcohol on his breath. We leaned closer towards each other, and began to embrace one another.

It was fun, it was innocent. Just kids being kids. We continued to kiss as I felt his hand move from my hip downwards. I remember asking, pleading with him to stop. Maybe the alcohol caused me to slur my words, or maybe he just couldn’t hear me, yet he did not stop.

There was touch, but no feeling. Warmth, but it was so cold. Something that was supposed to be so intimate and loving, gave nothing more than disgust and hatred.

I felt the bile build up in my throat, as he drove me home. He had finished what he had started, and not a word was said between the two of us. As we approached my driveway, I left the car, letting go of the build up in my throat. It felt like water breaking through a damn. He left without asking if I was alright and let me trench through the snow to my doorway.

Where had the fun gone? The innocence too. A game that had been associated with familiar memories, now brought only that night to mind. I was an empty shell, could not eat, think, or even feel. There were no tears and no words ever said about what had happened that night. I was broken, just like a headlight. I was a padiddle.