eclecticmuses: Cry
The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears. -John Vance Cheney
He stayed longer than he’d intended. He was supposed to be gone within a week. It had been two. His leaving shouldn’t have thrown her. But it did.
That one week was a tease. It had allowed her to hope that he might decide to stay for good, not run off to find himself or whatever the fuck he was doing. But he still left. And she’d done her best to put on a brave face as they said their goodbyes, their promises to call every day. A promise they would keep for a week or so, and then the calls would gradually fade out. Terry had lived her whole life with no father. It was easy to sink back into old habits. She never had to check in with anyone. She’d forget in time.
Terry spent the night at home. She ordered Chinese food, popped in a movie, sat on her bed with Tripod. She was fine. She talked to her friends online. She double checked what she needed to get done for work the next day. Fine. Completely fine. She alphabetized her dvds while waiting for the ice cream to soften. She read out her fortune cookie, added ‘in bed’ to the end, chuckled, and put it in her purse to show Jean-Paul the next morning. No problem.
He called that night. To say goodnight, to say he was on the road, doing well. That was fine. She wished him a safe trip. He said he’d call her tomorrow, she said okay. No worries. She hung up the phone. Cleaned up the food. Fed the dog, took him out for his night walk. Got into her pajamas. Triple checked work preparations and did a last minute email scan for lj notifs.
And when she finally crawled into bed, when the lights were out, in the safety of the darkness, Theresa started to cry. One little sniffle, one split second of feeling sorry for herself, and it all came crashing down on her. She couldn’t hold anything back. Tears turned to sobs, which turned to hacking, heaving cries until she couldn’t breathe anymore. Her chest ached and her throat was tight. She just wailed until there was nothing left, no more emotion left in her. Nothing.
She turned the pillowcase over to the other, non-damp side. That was all she was going to allow herself. No more. Nothing else, no one else, would get to her so deeply as to cause that kind of a reaction. Never again. She promised herself that, and she was determined to keep that promise no matter how much time passed.
He stayed longer than he’d intended. He was supposed to be gone within a week. It had been two. His leaving shouldn’t have thrown her. But it did.
That one week was a tease. It had allowed her to hope that he might decide to stay for good, not run off to find himself or whatever the fuck he was doing. But he still left. And she’d done her best to put on a brave face as they said their goodbyes, their promises to call every day. A promise they would keep for a week or so, and then the calls would gradually fade out. Terry had lived her whole life with no father. It was easy to sink back into old habits. She never had to check in with anyone. She’d forget in time.
Terry spent the night at home. She ordered Chinese food, popped in a movie, sat on her bed with Tripod. She was fine. She talked to her friends online. She double checked what she needed to get done for work the next day. Fine. Completely fine. She alphabetized her dvds while waiting for the ice cream to soften. She read out her fortune cookie, added ‘in bed’ to the end, chuckled, and put it in her purse to show Jean-Paul the next morning. No problem.
He called that night. To say goodnight, to say he was on the road, doing well. That was fine. She wished him a safe trip. He said he’d call her tomorrow, she said okay. No worries. She hung up the phone. Cleaned up the food. Fed the dog, took him out for his night walk. Got into her pajamas. Triple checked work preparations and did a last minute email scan for lj notifs.
And when she finally crawled into bed, when the lights were out, in the safety of the darkness, Theresa started to cry. One little sniffle, one split second of feeling sorry for herself, and it all came crashing down on her. She couldn’t hold anything back. Tears turned to sobs, which turned to hacking, heaving cries until she couldn’t breathe anymore. Her chest ached and her throat was tight. She just wailed until there was nothing left, no more emotion left in her. Nothing.
She turned the pillowcase over to the other, non-damp side. That was all she was going to allow herself. No more. Nothing else, no one else, would get to her so deeply as to cause that kind of a reaction. Never again. She promised herself that, and she was determined to keep that promise no matter how much time passed.