And So Begins Eternity

He sat in the dark, head in hands, completely losing touch with the grim reality that had become his life.  The drink sloshed over his cup as his hands, rough with calluses and deprived of smooth hands to hold, trembled with pain. No longer did he notice the unmade single bed on which he sat, the pile of dirty dishes on the table, the garbage littering his floor.  Neither did he care that his dingy bachelor size apartment was unlit; the light bulb had burned out hours ago. He was a man, a man filled with heartbreak even after four years, and he didn’t care that his habitat was a wreck; so was his existence.  It had been before, and so it was destined to be afterward.
         Her picture still sat on his nightstand, just inches away from his pillow.  There she sat, frozen in time, smiling at him, supposed to warm his heart but only breaking the ice that had grown inside.  The feelings were not gone, but they had hurt each other too much to run back.  In other words, he had been stupid.  She had long been forgiven her transgressions, but he couldn’t forgive himself.
         Below the picture was the note she had written that night before she stormed off. Just one sentence, yet it said so much.  It still sat next to his pillow, a painful reminder of that moment he became alone, a lovingly cruel reminder that she loved him.
         When you love someone, you have to let them go.
         Still, the two lovers could not completely separate themselves; the love that existed was still too great.  So each year, on this very night, she would arrive on his doorstep, like clockwork, and they would spend a night of reclaiming passion with each other, only to have it gone as the bright darkness faded into the garish, depressing light of the day.  They would reconnect for a brief instant, forgetting the past and disregarding the future in favor of a few hours of long sought happiness.
         Tonight was different though.  Tonight, as with every other night from now until eternity, he would spend the most painful night of the year alone, with only his drink as his company.  It was the night she used to come, the night they would commemorate their parting and celebrate their love.  It was the night they felt the pain the most, and the night they drowned out the pain by being with the cause of the anguish.
         It was the anniversary of the day he became a shell, and she was supposed to spend the night with him.  Last year had; however, been their final time. She would never be his again.  As of tomorrow, under the garish depressing sun that had become their enemy, she would belong to another.  Forever.  Until death and beyond.
         So he sat, drink in hand, sipping the beverage with the melting ice absentmindedly, not pursuing drunkenness due to a mad desire and need to feel the torture.  He would not lose consciousness.  He would not pass out or fall asleep.  He would remain awake the entire night and the day that would follow.  Facing the woes of actual solitude would be his punishment for his stupidity.
                                       ******************

         The night was warm as she walked, contrasting with the cold in her heart.  The streets were deserted, complementing the loneliness she felt.  Ironically, she could be partying right then, but she chose solitude. He, she thought with bitterness, is probably living it up right now with God knows who.  Wonder what diseases he’ll bring to me tomorrow. He was so different than the other, the one she traditionally would be with at that time, the one she had been with on this night three years in a row. He did not love her; he was just looking for a trophy wife, and that was what he was going to get.  She would pay her dues, be what he wanted, just because he wanted her.  It had been a while since she had felt wanted, even though she had been desired at least one night a year for the past three years and many more times before then.
         She should be at his house, memorializing the night that her life had been reduced to shambles and she had succumbed to the society life she had been destined for.  She should be illicitly exploring his body, remembering it for one last time.  There would be no way she could come next year; it would be adultery.  However, tonight, tonight, she was still legally bound to no one, and she was free to be his again.
         Her feet walked the beaten path she recalled well.  Will he take me tonight?  He no doubt knows what tomorrow is; will he care? Inside, she knew he would welcome the chance to be hers once again, to be a true lover in the place of the man that did not cherish her.
         
                                       ******************
         He sat in solitude, listening to the silence.  It mocked him, screamed at him.  It berated him for allowing her to walk away into another man’s arms the night they parted.  The quiet yelled at him for retaliating by taking another girl into his arms.  Those arms rightfully belonged to her, and no other woman had been in them since.
         Suddenly, he heard a creak.  The door, left unlocked due to his lack of concern over any of his possessions, swung open, cautiously at first, then with a slam.
         “Are you there?” a soft, tender voice called. “I know you are.”
         “Hey,” he pretended to yawn, as though nonchalantly greeting her.  “I didn’t think…”
         “Shhh,” she whispered, closing at least the physical gap between them.  As though unable to wait any longer, she brought her lips to his in a sweet simple kiss.  The kiss deepened until they pulled apart, both breathing heavily.
         “But aren’t you…”
         “I decided to forego a bachelorette party for this.  Don’t ruin it for me,” she scolded, bringing her lips impatiently to his again.  Her arms wrapped around his head.
         “Won’t he…” he asked between kisses.
         “He doesn’t know.” They continued to kiss between dialogue.
         “Should he?” He suddenly pulled apart from her.  The thought of an angry fiancé bursting into his house interrupting what was sure to come was unwelcome.
         “Right now, I don’t care.”
         “Well in that case…”  Once again they met each other in an embrace, their mouths clinging as though magnetized, her the north and him the far south.  Their kisses deepened, and his arms wrapped around her slender waist.  Her hands flew to his head as she buried her fingers in his messy hair.  The distance between their bodies lessened until their torsos were touching, pressed against each other in a frenzy of desire.
         “Are you still…” he asked between kisses, unable and unwilling to speak the word that would bring finality to them.  The m-word was like a curse word that he could not bring himself to think.
         “Yes,” she replied, kissing his neck. 
         “Why?”
         “I need to be needed.”          
         “I need you.” He was nearly pleading but still trying to retain his dignity.
         “You can survive; you’re strong enough to live.”
         “Not without you.”
         “Yes you can, you have for four years now.”
         “Only for this.”
         “Let’s make up for the time we’ll never have then,” she flirted, green eyes sparkling mischievously, seducing him.  She had pulled away from their kissing long enough to talk and convince him to put the unpleasantness away for a while.  Now, she resumed, capturing his lips with hers and caressing his mouth with her tongue, inviting herself in.
         “Do you love him?”
         “Listen; let’s just forget this all okay.  There’s only us, only this.  Forget our regrets.  Let’s focus on passion tonight, and let tomorrow be goodbye.  Okay.”  Her voice was cracking as she pleaded.  Clearly, she did not want to discuss who she loved, for her eyes said her love was in front of her.  However, as she could not have her love, she wanted to forget, to pretend.  He was prepared to oblige to her request. Forget regrets or life is yours to miss.  That’s from Rent, our favorite movie. This is life, here with her, and I don’t want to miss it, even if cruel eternity begins tomorrow.
         He wrapped his arms around her tighter, kissing her in response.  They resumed their making-out enthusiastically, remembering the times long ago when they did this without worrying that each time might be their last.  They savored this temporary feeling of excitement, of euphoria, of living.
         He led her down the hall and through his open bedroom door.  They collapsed in a frenzy of unbridled fervor, running their lips over every unclothed part of their partner. He was bold first, reaching his hand out to her shirt while not breaking their kiss.
         Well, just use your imagination.
                                       **********************

         They awoke with pale sunlight, an enemy in disguise, caressing their tall, entwined bodies cockily.  The two people in bed stretched, breaking their embrace for the first time since she had arrived in his doorway the previous evening.
         “Morning,” he mumbled with his face in her tangled curls, unable to add a good to the greeting.
         “Hi,” she smiled.
         “So…”  He didn’t want the clock to tick, yet the seconds seemed to pass quickly.
         “Yeah”
         “Want some breakfast?” The last meal, he couldn’t help but think.
         “Sure.”
         He walked to his kitchen and grabbed two bowls, filling them with cereal.  Though he was a whiz with a stove, he didn’t trust his quivering hands with something that could harm him.  He carried the bowls back to the bed on a tray, and they sat eating silently, wishing that this meal was like any other they had once shared together. Two bites later, he dropped his spoon.
         “So…” he trailed off, trying to bring up a topic it couldn’t possibly hurt to mention as they were destined to soon part, yet would harm them emotionally at that moment. “Today’s it.”
         “Yeah.”
         There was an awkward silence, so much left unsaid that needed to be fought over before their final parting, at least so they could say goodbye angry at each other.
         “Why didn’t it work?” Her abrupt question startled him.
         “Why didn’t us work?”
         “No, why didn’t the remote control work? Of course why didn’t we work out?”
         He paused, unsure how to answer.  “Because I’m an idiot,” he decided.
         “I seem to remember it wasn’t all your fault.”
         Suddenly he stood, towering over her. “What are you talking about? I let you run off to him!  I ran to her!  I decided that what happened couldn’t be forgiven!”
         “But I agreed.  I was totally in with the breaking up.”
         “So why did you ask why it didn’t work out?”
         “Because I wanted to see whether you blamed me!” She was yelling now, but her voice dropped. “I wanted to know whether you hated me.”
         “I could never hate you.  You should hate me.”  His voice was soft now, consoling.
         “No, I couldn’t hate you. It was over long before I screamed I hated you.  It was over before we fought.  It was over before I slept with him.  We had been disconnected for months.”
         “Yeah, you’re right. It was long over.  We’re neatly finished, as of noon today.”
         They sat in silence, the hush begging something else to be said.
         “Well, I’ve got to go.  I’ve got my, you know, wed...”
         “Don’t marry him.” Whoa, where did that come from crossed both their minds.
         “Please, let’s not get into this.”
         “Don’t marry him.”
         “Why?”
         “Because you should be marrying me.  I should have never said we should quit.  I should have never decided you were unforgivable.  I forgave you the minute I realized that my life was nothing without you.”
         “Why didn’t you come back?”
         “I didn’t think you would forgive me.  I didn’t think I could forgive myself.”
         “I forgave you long ago, that’s why I kept coming back.”
         “Don’t marry him.”
         “Why?”
         “I can’t live without you.”
         “Yes you can.  You have to. I have to.  Too much has happened.  We decided it was over; it was mutual agreement, even if we both regret it.  Sometimes forgiveness isn’t enough.  There are still consequences. We’ve got to accept those.”  She was sobbing openly now, and he felt his eyes brim with tears about to overflow.
         “Please. Don’t. Marry. Him,” he choked, unable to hold back his sorrow now.  It was the first sadness he had shown her.
         She wanted to say yes.  She wanted to run away with him right then, tie the knot with the person she should, but too much had happened.  They had proven that their love wasn’t strong enough to withstand life’s trials.  They had shown themselves to be cowards, unable to fight.  She needed a strong relationship, one where she was sure she was needed.  He could survive; her groom was weak.  Her groom needed her.
         “I’m sorry,” she half-whispered, half-cried. 
         “So, is this goodbye?”
         “Goodbye.” Her voice could barely be heard, but he knew what she was saying, even if he knew in his heart it was what neither of them wanted. She turned, preparing to leave.
         “I love you,” he confessed, his tears pouring down his face into his mouth. She turned back, facing him with her eyes baring into his one last time.          “I love you too.”
          And with that, her belongings were gone from his apartment, and he was left alone once again, like he had been less than twelve hours ago. However, instead of his drink as company, there was the blazing sun, a beautiful contradiction to the ripping in his heart.
         The note had fluttered to the ground and now lay at his feet. When you love someone, you have to let them go. He couldn’t take it.  He ran to his trunk and dug to the bottom, where he had a cardboard shoebox, crushed from the weight of photo albums and mementos.  He opened it to find photos and a velvet box, which lovingly encased a ring, the same ring she had carefully pressed into his hand years ago. 
         He looked at the circle in his hand, his palm cupping it tenderly.  The tarnished metal glistened menacingly in the sun.  He gripped his strong workman’s hand around the delicate object, and with a mighty swing, flung it at the picture frame on his nightstand.  The glass broke, and due to the force of impact, glass flew out, a jagged piece slicing his cheek.  He collapsed to his hands and knees before the broken photo, his tears mixing with his blood.
         And so begins eternity.