|
[
January 25th, 2020 ï 11:11pm
] |
elina ``lainey`` paz.
( the story )
|
|
[
March 29th, 2008 ï 7:26pm
] |
|
Why do I run from the only things I have ever wanted?
|
|
[
February 15th, 2008 ï 12:14am
] |
10 JANUARY 2006. -- the secret
 Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive. Those words echoed through her mind. Bouncing off the walls. Slamming into her nerves. Traveling through her aching body. She felt her fingers seize up. Her breathing grow heavy. She felt the rise and fall of her chest. She felt the blood empty out. The lightheaded feeling overtake her. The eyes close. Open. Impulse. Instincts. She felt bare and raw. Felt scrubbed to the bone. Revealed. Her hand shot out, searching for a place to rest her tired body. She sat down on the hotel's bathroom counter. Somewhere a couple was fighting. The sound of pattering feet on the floor above her came in distant waves. Splashing of water. Laughter of children. These were the last things she remembered before -- darkness.
When she woke up, her head hurt. She was sandwiched against the vanity mirror, a smear of fog where her mouth had rested. Pulling herself together, she got to her feet. She walked onto the patio of the hotel room. There were children playing in the pool. Cannonball. Marco Polo. Chicken fight. Their parents lounged lazily on the sun chairs by the poolside. One mother with her big rimmed white hat, her black sunglasses, her two piece, her wedding ring - her smirk. Another sat with her feet in the water laughing, joking. Talking to the kids. A small boy tugged on her foot. Another splashed water at her. She laughed. She jumped in the water. Lainey closed her eyes. Which one would she be?
The bed was firm and cold beneath her. The laughter had faded. The night had settled in. She stood on the patio a while later. Smoked a cigarette. She held the test in her hand. Walked to the pool. Looked at the empty blue water. Chlorine. She threw the test away in the nearest trash can. Walked around the pool. It came to her slowly. It slid down her head, warm and kind. It filled her heart. It spread to her outstretched arms. Happiness. Joy. Freedom. The miracle. The Secret inside her. The beautiful reminder. The `goodbye` they never had. She put her hand on her stomach. Closed her eyes for a long time. Felt it warm her. Felt it overtake her. Felt it move her. The next thing she knew she had her feet in the water. Laughing.
|
|
[
January 31st, 2008 ï 1:05pm
] |
30 DECEMBER 2005. -- the wedding
Hawaii. Swaying trees. Hot sun. Waves brushing against the shore. Crystal blue water. Like her eyes. Her eyes. Those two distant, glittering orbs. Faraway look. Her mind was racing. Thoughts shattering through. Broken, torn mind. She could not shake these thoughts of ultimate disaster. She kept imagining it happening :
Dearly Beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God ...
God. Who was God? Was He why she was here now? Worried, scared, desperate. Was He why she was questioning why - why - why? She could not remember why she was here. Why she was wearing this silly, white dress. Purity. Innocence. She was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Lies. She was living a lie. Acting on a lie.
and in the face of this company -
The people would arrive soon. People they knew, loved. People that influenced their lives. Family. Friends. It promised to be a great party. The celebration of their love, despite some people who did not support the union. There were favors, music, dancing, dinner, and a cake she had designed and made herself. To keep her busy. To keep her mind still.
to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony.
Together? Join? What did that mean? They were people, not Tupperware. This man. This perfect, loving man. Loving endlessly. Giving generously. This man who did no wrong. This man who wanted her to be his bride. To dwell with her forever. This woman. This confused, broken, scared woman. Imperfect. Failing. Disappointing. This woman who did not know how she felt anymore. This man. This woman. Holy matrimony,
If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together -
Any person? How about her? Did she count. Just cause? She was scared. It was too much. She was not ready. She was inadequate. She was lying. She did not feel anything. Just fear. This was not cold feet. This was the feeling that everything she ever knew was going to change. She would lose her old identity. She would be branded. His. Forever. Her mother, who she only spoke to her in words of advice, had once said, ``Never marry a man. It's the end of you.`` The end of her. The end of her.
let them speak now or forever hold their peace.
She would do more than speak. She would run. Taxi. Airport. Home. She would fly over her own wedding. The one she would not be at. The people as small as ants. Her mother and father. Her sister. They called her. She threw her cellphone in the nearest trash can. This was not the end of her. This was the beginning of her life. This was her freedom. She looked at her engagement ring. Felt empty. What had she done? She should go back. Fall on her knees. Tell him she loved him. Her heart broke. How selfish. How wrong. She twisted the ring on her finger.
The elderly lady beside her leaned over, ``Are you getting married, sweetie?``
Lainey looked up. The image of her wedding slipped away. The words of the pastor, as she had imagined them, stopped. ``No, not today.``
She leaned back and closed her eyed.
|
|
[
January 29th, 2008 ï 12:54am
] |
31 DECEMBER 2004. -- the meeting
New Year's Eve. Cold. The city was full of lights, sound, laughter. The art gallery was peaceful. The bustling town unable to penetrate the respectful silence of the gallery. She stood by the window. The people moved about below. Ants. Drunken ants. Couple under the street light. Sick. The wine glass in her hand felt heavy. She drank to make it more bearable. Her art was on the wall. Hanging. Watching. Being inspected. Spoken about. They liked it. Their murmurs came in broken pieces. She looked around. These people thought they were real artists. She questioned them. Questioned herself. Her painting watched her. Mocked her. It said, `You created me. You don't know me.` She was a stranger in her body. Trapped behind her own eyes. Victim to herself. Her art held her captive.
People. The anteroom, adjacent to the one she stood in, looked relatively empty. The warm golden light fell in bursts upon the wooden floor. Inviting. Her feet propelled her forward. The moment that changed her life. There he was. Dressed to fit in. Instead, he stood out. His dark eyes. His sensuous lips. He was watching her the moment she entered. Her head felt warm. Her mind heavy. Too much wine. It was magnetic. One soul to another. They stood. Feet away. Staring. Time stood still. When she came out of her daze, she was beside him. It was instant. No introductions. No phony, idle chit chat.
``It's you,`` he breathed.
``I've found you.``
``I don't belong. Why am I here?``
``You don't know?``
``Destiny.``
``What do you live for?``
``My sport. My game.``
``Not any more.``
``I know.`` He smiled.
They walked down the street. It was cold. They held hands. Her's was swallowed in his. They spoke about life. Love. They were different. They were opposites. The world was against them. It never mattered. There was something. Undefinable. Indescribable. An attraction. A romance. Timeless. Ageless. Classic. They were made for one another. Broken puzzle pieces that fit. They fit. Time flew by. Love grew. Strong. Assured. Proven. He was an excellent lover. A listener. A friend. He was the sun and moon in her sky. No one understood. They did not need to.
The engagement was logical. It would not have made sense to wait. It was something so obvious. So necessary. Things were planned. Parties. Invitations. Dinners. Plane tickets bought. Dresses picked. Flowers. Preacher. Location. Rings were bought. The day came. It was supposed to be their dream wedding. The people came. The music played. She was gone. He stood. He waited. He hoped. He prayed. She ran.
It never happened.
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
|
|
| | | | |