It always starts simple enough I haven’t had one this strong in a long time, I looked down at the end of the movie and there she was, Brittney. It was dark but that was the same it was the same, for a moment I posed not knowingly but as a reaction of surprise. As the lights came up it was clear it wasn’t her. That hair was the same I knew that I can still see it. There was always something delicate about it when she was mine and I was close enough to learn it there was no mistaking that same delicate strand soft yet week, the color was close not the same but close.
I remember the last time it happened with Morgan this woman had the same size and shape her hair was only slightly shorter and all the same time I knew it wasn’t her but she looked for a split second like it could have been. I always was connected to her I could feel her when she was close and had no troubles finding her in a crowd it could be hundreds it could be thousands I would spot her. A part of me feels like it was turned off when she left that’s how I knew when I saw this woman that it wasn’t her that connection wasn’t there it did make my skin jolt at first sight it would have been nice to see her, it was nice to even see something that wasn’t her.
I see her around each corner there was this lady, at Casco and my heart stumbled my eyes widened and then the pain set in, it hurts, my eyes watered having to repress the emotion as my hand clenched my chest, it wasn’t Giovanna it never could be. I gazed for a moment imaging what she must really look like as the woman that brought the thought to mind was gone only my emotion left. Her arms weren’t right it was the wrist specifically they went elegant enough her hair was no where near long like it really would be I know that by heart. I only ever saw her from the back but her shoulders didn’t fall right they should have looked like they where at peace not the way this lady looked. I see her all the time every lexis that is the in front of me or parked as I pass by, holding a cup of coffee or just looking right past me they never have her cheeks I would know that face with touch alone. Each time I grow a little sad not having the memories like the others not seeing her in places that I could have been with her these woman never show up on my computer screen. Like the sound of her logging in, it never shocks my heart alive when I see one of them, how it was with her as she would step back into my life that sound only announcing it. I was robbed of even having a past to hate.
For after the sorrow fades the hate starts to fill its place. My mind wonders to dark places as I want to beat the man holding the hand of the woman I want to be with but can’t, I want to show her he isn’t strong like I am that he can’t protect her that he isn’t what I am. The bones in my hands ache from how tightly I clench them wanting to hit anything to feel the hate come out to dig into it pulling more to the surface, my teeth hurt as I push it all back inside of me, having to tell my own body to let my jaw relax so I don’t hurt my self. Who would have guest the best fuel for anger could be unused love unwanted love unneeded love replaceable love. That it all has to go some where, I feel my blood run hot with love so much filling my flesh it begins to burn inside of me. I can only go so long with out having something to love before it starts to curdle like milk growing sour as the days grow one after the other, tell it finally has to be thrown away. Its this lose that makes me so fucking angry that makes me want to hurt people around me to lash out because they have what has been taken from me what I have lost what I can’t have seeing there smiles starts the reaction from there its unpredictable. I only fear I may stop letting love fill me like it once did so it may never be wasted in me for there is no one to harvest my love, filling that need in them that only the sole can command.
Any Writings by Zachary S Wilson by Zachary S Wilson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at university of montana western undergrad.
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