For this Valentine’s Day week I wrote up short sketches of the seven girls I have loved. This is the fourth.
Passion, drama, fatigue, destruction.
My friend introduced me to her – a skinny blonde.
Completely unaware of the roller coaster the next year would be with her,
she had me hooked.
Like most of the others, she had issues with her father.
If she didn’t want to hear something, she would choose not to,
leaving me endlessly frustrated and
at one point during a conversation throwing the phone against the wall
and watching it rain down in pieces.
Things were generally all the way up, or all the way down.
We both had so many issues we couldn’t
properly address the other person’s,
leading to messy fights,
both wanting what the other person
was unable to give.
Eventually there was a breach of trust which would always haunt me
and ultimately lead to the end.
It took what seemed like hours,
as she wouldn’t accept it
and I acted poorly and childishly
out of sheer frustration.
Somewhere in there she finally stormed out. It was done and all was silent.
But it was not over.
I didn’t see her again until a number of years later.
Our meeting was rather amiable and it appeared that we had similar ideals
for the current stage of life we were both in,
where “settling down” is not part of the deal.