Immaculate

There was one last tear as she saw his back for the last time. The numbness built up rapidly throughout the past five years and resulted in nothing but confusion. Who is to blame on this dark bleak evening as he walks out the front door? Her pitch black mascara blocks out her brown eyes. The ones she'd rather not have visible to him momentarily. Her glasses serve for the same purpose. She looks at the Cd's she made for him. Dancing to "Brown Eyed Girl" in the lobby of a hotel flashes through her confused mind this one last time. She remembers holding his hand long ago at the amusement park. Sharing cotton candy or feeding the geese on a park bench under the sunset. Now those memories are only pain and hurt. But he's so élite now; with his friends, possibly a mistress. And there she is wondering about her self-control. His self-sufficiency does not matter to her, rather the love he gives is more important. Is this going to end in a custody battle? The ones I've learned so much, but really never cared for, in law class? Will they use a last resort to finalize this reality? He sits there flexing his oh-so-muscular arm as a thin blond with a cigarette and short skirt walks by. So multi-talented that a man like he could please a woman of her kind. This is only self-deception, she likes to tell herself as she closes her eyes for the night but somehow she knows she is wrong. I fade into my own manageable fantasy where men are fearless, brave and bold and features consist of purely personality. Where bloodthirsty inhumane people are not allowed beyond the white gates of purity and innocence. My dreams are credible, however, insanely impossible. I only wish he could take her once again, like in the past, to that imaginary world. Instead, he continues to corrupt both her world and mine. Like an unlawful malicious practice. Lies only show proof of how immaculate you once had been; of how loved you once were. The love has faded out with your proceedings to do so. And she looks down once more, at the photos. Thinks back onto the memories. I see now how she must feel.1