Break up with me

" Don't you wanna feel your bones on my bones? Its only natural. Don't you wanna feel your skin on my skin? Its only natural. "1

He sang that song that night. Sitting side by side in a desecrated ghetto parking lot, he sang those words, in that low, silky, smooth voice of his. Like carmel, it was. So sweet and delicious. The kind of voice you could never get enough of. You always wanted more. No matter how much he gave. 2

It was almost ten pm when we escaped to the outside, the dark, cool night. We were held up by a friend of mine, an awkward, strained conversation in which we forced smiles and then quickly left. As I walked away, I half wished they would follow us, but they didnt. I hoped that wasnt too rude, walking away like that. 3

Outside we were alone. I lead him to the side of the building, and stopped halfway down, leaning up against the blue and white tin. We stood there for a while, standing awkwardly for a few minutes. We knew what we wanted. We came outside for one thing, and one thing only. To save awkwardness, embarassment, shame. I had told her that I was thinking about breaking up with him, and before i saw him, I actually believed it. But then he came and, always the creeper, wrapped his arms around my waist and whispered silkily into my ear. I had shrugged him off, still trying to believe that I was going to do what I had planned to do. 4

She narrowed her eyes, blue and carefree, at him. Pursing her lips, I could hear her thoughts, "What is he doing here?"5

I had told her later, "Just ignore him and he'll go away." And if it wasnt for that other one, he might have. But no. She talked and talked and talked. Goddamn her and her low cut tops and perfect, ballerina body. Believe it or not, I was jealous. What happened to emotionless? What happened to my plans? 6

Later I was sitting with him, leaning up against the wall, fighting him off as he tried to force himself closer. 7

"I thought you liked PDAs, " He grinned.8

"No, I do. Its just...Her. She makes me nervous. "9

I didnt want her to see us. I didnt want to feel her stare, hear her thoughts like I did, 'God, look at her. She's such a slut. I thought she said she was leaving him. Ha. What a joke.' I wondered how anyone so nice could have thoughts like that. 10

Being with him there made me feel dirty. Ashamed. Like it wasnt love we were chasing. And it wasnt. That night was all lust. All pleasure. 11

So we went outside. As we walked down the side of the building, me leading the way, he laughed and chuckled, " Its nights like this that make me wish I carried a condom."12

After standing awkwardly for a minute, he went around the back of the building to see if we could find a more secluded spot back there. The second he turned the corner, I reached into my purse and dug out a ciggerette, lighting up and raising it to my lips. I got in about two sweet, minty puffs before I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye, movement from the other side of the building. I quickly dropped the ciggerette, grinding it into the concrete with my foot, hoping he hadnt seen. But it was too late.13

" I saw that, "He said, dissaproval on his voice.14

Calm rushed through my body, and I smiled the first true smile of the night. Sweet nicotine, how I needed it....I pressed up against him, and to my surprise, he pushed me away. 15

"No. " He said, " I cant kiss you for ten minutes. "16

" Why not? " I demanded.17

" Because if I taste the smoke, I wont be able to stop myself from jumping you for your last ciggerette. " 18

I laughed, and kissed him. He kissed me back, but it wasnt him. It was restrained. I didn't like it. 19

We waited a few minutes. Tick tock. Ten minutes. Tick tock. 20

He kissed me again, all soft and gentle and I pulled away. 21

" What's all this? You were much more forceful inside. "22

" Thats because you were resisting. "23

And he pounced. I resisted, although I wanted with all my being not to. He held my hands back and dug his teeth into my neck, the muscle and skin tearing and screaming STOP STOP STOP but i shuddered and gasped and wanted it YES YES YES-24

And when he finally pulled away, he looked at my neck and said, " Thats going to hurt for a while. "25

I laughed, " Its already quit hurting. I cant feel a goddamn thing. "26

We sat there for a while longer, leaning up against the wall and staring out into the night. As we stood, I was suddenly reminded of someone else, another night, another 'once upon a summer love.' and my heart beat, the hole around it growing and tearing and pulsing harder, sadness and longing ripping through me with each beat. A tear ran down my face and i let it. I hoped he didnt see that. No. He couldnt have. It was too dark. And I had my sunglasses on. 27

That night I immensely wished I had met him earlier, maybe a year or two before, so when I had snuck out, maybe i could have snuck out with him. And we could have done this. 28

Was it love or was it lust? I wasnt completely sure...for him, it was love. he genuinely missed me. Why else would he let me cry on his shoulder? Why go through that awkwardness if he didnt love me? But for me, I think it was lust. Love had left with Manic about a week ago. Its brothers, Lust and depression were here now, 'crashing' with me. I never said they could come and stay, but apparantly that didnt matter. You didnt have to have permission to 'crash.' 29

I think he knew I didnt feel it. I had refused to say the words for a few days now. I didnt want love...but what did I want? Fuck buddys? A friend-with-benefits? 30

He was already starting to move on. The whole night, he talked to that other girl, the PERFECT BALLERINA, and eventually asked for her email. She gave it to him. I asked for it to, but honestly, she didnt seem to be too interested. 31

I didnt care. This wasnt for me. this was for him. He was older. He had friends. Girls who flirted with him and wanted him and LOVED HIM. I was different. I was younger, and in a way, more mature than any of those silly high school girls and their feelings of 'love'. I wrote novels and painted with watercolor, while they scrawled angsty, 'emo' girl poetry and doodled cutesy, bubbly drawings on second rate recycled notebook paper, because 'its cool to recycle'. They were happy little kids, and I was a miserable adult. Their biggest worry was whether or not they would have a boyfriend. My biggest worry was whether or not I would still be alive at the end of the month. Their biggest problem was making a bad grade in school. My biggest problem was my heart condition. 32

We were just too different. I was nothing like him. 33

In the middle of our conversation, he kept glancing over at her, that perfect girl, and as much as it irritated me, I couldnt help but being a bit proud of him. 34

He was moving on. I was one step closer. One day closer to freedom. 35

To letting go. 36