Scattered Thoughts

I often go down to the beach with my shoes off and my feet in the sand, wandering, wandering, wondering what I am doing with my life.

I bought myself a rose today to make me feel beautiful. Sometimes a girl just needs a pretty flower. It’s a burgundy rose because red is too cliché. I always buy roses with the thorns still on, I don’t like things that are unnatural. Besides, roses with thorns make you pay more attention to the details – you don’t want to get pricked.

I hate yellow roses and pink are far too pale, but I love purple and white.

My thoughts are scattered.

You used to think me beautiful, Now your eyes wander far too often, Staring and seeing only others; never me.
You used to think me picture perfect, Now my picture is tattered, torn, Left forgotten on the floor of your bedroom.
You used to think me artistic, Now you find me laughable, my art is silly and meaningless.

You think her beautiful. You think her picture perfect. You think her artistic.

When I leave I won’t say goodbye – goodbyes are too messy for me – and you won’t know I’m gone until you miss me. Whenever that is … it’s hard to miss someone you don’t think about.

I’ve tried to be pretty, pretty perfect for you but I fail every time. Even my stockings won’t stay whole … they rip and shred like my tangled mangled heart.
I can’t ever be as perfect as you need me to be (as perfect as you think you deserve)
My photos aren’t as pretty, my art isn’t as beautiful.
My curves are too curvy, my hair is too flat.

And my thoughts are too scattered.

We don’t love like we used too, and our hands don’t touch anymore (only when we’re sleeping).

It’s hard to love, love perfect for you. I try but I fail every time and cry silently, shaking in sobs while you lay sleeping and oblivious.

Goodbye love.

Beautiful Goodbye

To you my love, I send my most beautiful goodbye …

You say I am cruel, I am heartless, to leave you so bitterly and spontaneously – only bitter because you did not see my tears, only spontaneous because you did not see the signs. To leave without a word of goodbye, you say, was to leave whilst tearing out your heart with my cold hand (you always said my hands were cold), ignoring your tears and pleas. You say I never loved you because if I did I would have stayed, to this I say you never loved me because if you did you wouldn’t have asked me to stay.

I love(d) you more than words can begin to describe but you took it for granted and for this, and for my dreams, I left you behind.

I did not say goodbye, but not to be cruel – never to be cruel. I have tried a thousand times over and over again to tell you of my plans. I’ve wanted more than anything to share my dreams with you, to be with you. But every time I’ve opened my mouth to speak I have known it would be the end of us so I smartly shut it or changed the subject. In this, and only this, did I deceive you. If I could’ve taken you with me I would have, if I could have had you, my love, and my dreams I would have, but life would not let me be so selfish.

So instead I left you, without any note or goodbye aside from my keys on the kitchen counter and the apartment emptied of my existence. But I left with the intention of saying goodbye – I left with this note in mind.

I called your house the other day when I knew you would be at work – your schedule has always been so predictable – just to hear your voice again on the answering machine. But she picked up and the sound of her musky voice left me cold inside. It was foolish of me to think you’d cherish me always like you said.

My heart broke anew though it had no right to.

You have her, someone new. And I have my dreams and this beautiful goodbye.

Young Love

Lovers’ feet tangled under a layer of sand, the toes sticking out breathing in the salty wind. Everything is entwined, everything is touching.

We love like young lovers, no patience for each caress; hurrying and stumbling, desperate for touch, desperate for love and affection. We don’t enjoy it like we used to, no longer will you wipe the hair out of my eyes and kiss my brow, smiling sweetly like a boy in love. No longer will I hug you tightly – unwilling to let our bodies stop touching for even a second, kissing your neck and whispering words of love.

These things we took so much for granted that we rarely notice them disappearing.

Nervous Nerves

Flash Fiction, a short story written in 100 words or less.

I can’t stop bouncing my knee at the table though I know it drives my Mother nuts. I just can’t help it, it’s a nervous habit and I am filled to near bursting with nervous energy.

My nervous nerves, as I like to call them.

I smile to myself which causes my parents to exchange a look.

They think I am mocking them but the truth is I am not even listening. I am still replaying the exchange over and over in my head. He said “Hi”. Hi!

What did it mean?

My nervous nerves just can’t take the suspense.