Life at 19: Part 3 of 3
The last thing I can think to say is "I fucking dare you." Had I really just said that?
Skip back a week: Within moments of my former fianc and I arriving at our last apartment together, I knew this was the one: ugly carpet and all. We were carrying our only sofa up stairs. I stared at him with complete contempt, blaming him for crimes yet to be committed. "I could just let go," I thought, "and this would all be over." But that's not the way life works. Instead I asked him what he thought of the new place. "I think we're going to be really happy here," he said with a sweet, sincere smile.
Its New Years Eve now. My then fianc drives up enthusiastically, pulling out a bottle of Vodka. "WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?! WE PROMISED NO MORE LIQUOR!" I scream in pure shock. "I'm just going to ignore that. A new year, a new house, a new beginning," he replies patiently, jogging up the stairs. I cant even watch the countdown on TV; instead, I just glare at Fuck Head with utter contempt. Finally I shoot up out of the chair, "This is just bullshit. That's all I can say." I go the bedroom, slam the door, but not without scowling "You don't deserve me. You never did. I hope you like the single life. "
That was it--that was the trigger. I know it is too. I run and lay down on the bed--there is no way in hell he is going to get me pinned to that carpet. He peers over my legs, giving me one last chance to repent. If I tell him I love him, and nobody but him, this can be over. "I fucking dare you." This is where the story started. This is the part where I should be telling you about the police scooping my brains off the floor, about how all of us are a slave to our own fate. Instead, this is the part I tell you I put all the guns and knives in the trunk of my car just days prior. This is the part I tell you I ran faster than Ive ever run in my life. This is the part I tell you I defied fate and made my own.
The last thing I can think to say is "I fucking dare you." Had I really just said that?
Skip back a week: Within moments of my former fianc and I arriving at our last apartment together, I knew this was the one: ugly carpet and all. We were carrying our only sofa up stairs. I stared at him with complete contempt, blaming him for crimes yet to be committed. "I could just let go," I thought, "and this would all be over." But that's not the way life works. Instead I asked him what he thought of the new place. "I think we're going to be really happy here," he said with a sweet, sincere smile.
Its New Years Eve now. My then fianc drives up enthusiastically, pulling out a bottle of Vodka. "WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?! WE PROMISED NO MORE LIQUOR!" I scream in pure shock. "I'm just going to ignore that. A new year, a new house, a new beginning," he replies patiently, jogging up the stairs. I cant even watch the countdown on TV; instead, I just glare at Fuck Head with utter contempt. Finally I shoot up out of the chair, "This is just bullshit. That's all I can say." I go the bedroom, slam the door, but not without scowling "You don't deserve me. You never did. I hope you like the single life. "
That was it--that was the trigger. I know it is too. I run and lay down on the bed--there is no way in hell he is going to get me pinned to that carpet. He peers over my legs, giving me one last chance to repent. If I tell him I love him, and nobody but him, this can be over. "I fucking dare you." This is where the story started. This is the part where I should be telling you about the police scooping my brains off the floor, about how all of us are a slave to our own fate. Instead, this is the part I tell you I put all the guns and knives in the trunk of my car just days prior. This is the part I tell you I ran faster than Ive ever run in my life. This is the part I tell you I defied fate and made my own.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
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That is such a trippy story!
I love your writing by the way.