In my heart I begged her not to go (revisited).

In my heart, I begged her not to go.

November 31, 2008

I had arrived at Elizabeth’s house around….I don’t know, let’s say, seven o’clock or so. The sun was making it’s preparations for an early winter decent, the wind had a shy chill, the kind that sneak up on you, and a fog, dense, held the streets. I looked normal, as it was custom for me, black leather jacket, jeans, steel toed boots, black shirt, hair tied back into a pony tail. Though the only difference was that my heart felt heavier than my boots. A solid rock in my chest.

Her house greeted me as it always had, just beyond the front door, the beautiful collie mix greeted me, ‘T’ his name was. Always so happy to see me, he could barely stand in one place his tail wagged too much, like a tuning fork after it’s struck. In front of me was the staircase, carpeted, pillars on each side. To my right, the living room/den, to my left the dining room leading into the kitchen. A usual suburban home. I turned to my right, the family on the couch watching letterman (okay so it was like…midnight). Elizabeth’s mother pointed up to the second floor. I didn’t even stop to take off my boots.

I creaked open Elizabeth’s door slowly after two soft knocks. I saw a figure, slim, slender, balled up under the covers. I gulped back the fear in my throat and approached.

“Baby…” I took off my boots, and coat, and lay down beside her. My frame over hers, her back to my stomach, she was always the ‘little spoon’. All I saw was a jumbled ball of matted red hair sticking out from the top of the comforter decorated with fairies. She snored softly. I rested my head on the pillow next to her, gently slipped my arm around her waist, as I’d always done for the past four years. She stirred and rolled over, smiling as she saw me.

“Hey…” she whispered, clearing her throat and reaching for her glasses. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I’m here.” I leaned in and kissed her. She shied away, my lips landing only on her cheek. We sat up, and began to talk.

The next thing I remember, we were in each others arms, crying. I lay on my side, my jacket and boots back on now, my hair a matted mess. She lay beside me, one arm around my back, the other around my front, sobbing as well. We had our reasons. I knew that my mistake of silence had forever taken its toll. I had told her everything, but only three years too late.  She sobbed because of her knowledge of her undoing. She knew she’d moved on too quickly. Now, knowing the truth, she wanted to stop, to come back, but she knew she was already gone, and there was nothing she could do about it. So we sobbed together.

It was five AM now.

“I think you should go now…” She commanded, softer than the wind.

“I love you.” I could only plead with her.

“I love you too” She stated, but did not look at me.

“We’re going to be okay.” Pleading once again…

“I know…”

“I love you, Elizabeth, so much…”

“I love you too baby.”

I tucked her in, kissed her on the cheek, told her I loved her, and drove home.

-Unknown date-

We were standing in her drive way, it must’ve been spring now. I hadn’t spoken to her since we were together in her room; she hadn’t spoken to me, but agreed to now.

“I’ve seen your Facebook” I was referring to the profile picture of her kissing another man. This had been going on for months; I was the only one who apparently didn’t know.

“Okay…”

“I don’t want you to pretend you care about me…” I stated, trying to be firm. I wanted to be strong.

She shrugged, “Okay…” Then she turned and went back inside.

I wanted to scream, but my tongue was stuck. I wanted to run after her but my feet were bolted to the ground. I wanted to cry, but my eyes were dry from the wind. I wanted to do something, anything. She shrugged, shrugging off a full four years of love and passion…for someone she’d just met. I got in my car, and drove back to my college in Indiana. I cried the whole way.

The cup held ninety four pills in it, two full bottles. I turned on the faucet and filled the cup with water. I picked up my phone one last time. Found the contact, Elizabeth, and pushed send. It rang about five times, and then clicked to her voicemail. I hung up, and double clicked send again. This time, it rang three times, then straight to voicemail. I set the phone down, as the tears began. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t want to die but I’d invested so much in her, there was nothing left without her. I wanted to be happy, but my chest was in pain every day without her. I wanted to stop crying but couldn’t. I wanted her to love me, but she wouldn’t.

The mixture of water and pills tasted awful. I downed it in full, and then threw the cup against the sink, smashing it. I lay back; wrapping myself in the blanket she made for me, and thought I was crying myself to death. I felt the mixture hit my stomach. I didn’t wretch, I didn’t vomit. I felt it hit my bloodstream as my eyes grew heavy.  I willingly closed them, picturing her, picturing us. Her wrapped in my arms, her wild hair tickling my elbow, her sweat mixed with mine. I remembered all the kisses, the gifts and “I love you’s”. I remembered the last email she ever sent. I remembered seeing her profile picture, with another man, in his arms. I was crying again, when sleep came I couldn’t resist it. There was no white light, no god, Just sleep, and dreams of a time long past, when I was happy, life was perfect, and nothing could go wrong.

I awoke, two days later, in the same bed.

Elizabeth left me two years ago, and I did take all the sleeping pills. I can’t explain what happened, but I’ve tried to be fair in my story. As true as I can be, as accurate as I can be. I love Elizabeth with all my heart, but she has not changed. On December 1^st, after our meeting in November she sent me this:

“Hey!
You know I love you more than anything in the world too!  I promise that there is nothing between me and (Insert whatever name here, I will not disclose it) other than a friendship.  I am here for you and I want you to know that.  I will always be here for you.  Don’t worry about breaking down-I’ve done it enough times.  Just shows that you’re human too.  I don’t mind you breaking down or crying-it gives me a chance to comfort you, though the other day I kind of just broke down too.  I am here for you for anything.  I love you!

Love,

Me”

Elizabeth never spoke to me again after that.

This is my story. I am continually plagued by depression, and thoughts of suicide, but also thoughts of love, for a woman, who didn’t care, and left, and took my whole world with her.

Thanks for reading.

-Vincent-

(All names, other than mine, have been changed for privacy)