Tuesday: Writing

I plopped down in the sand next to him.

"You would not believe what I've just been through!"

He systematically pulled the petals from a yellow daisy. No matter how many he pulled, they never ended.

"Oh, I have some idea, Liz," he said. He pulled a petal particularly gingerly.

"Oh yeah?"

"Come on now, it's not like you tried to hide it at all. You're a proud lover, Liz. It's practically scattered across the stars."

"Well." I plucked a daisy growing in the sand and began peeling away its petals. "Yeah."

"No one said it would be easy."

"I knew that."

"But you still thought you could get away, didn't you? Well," he pulled a petal and thrust it in my face. "Well, I love you!"

I jumped up. "Jesus christ! Shut the fuck up! You don't know what you're saying!"

He got to his feet as well. "Then why are you here, huh? What are you doing here? What about what's-his-face with his name all up in your stars?"

"That...."

"I know exactly what's happened here, Liz. Your 'conspicuous silence' speaks worlds louder than that one time I fucked you so hard the neighbors complained. I know why you disappeared and I know why you're all of a sudden here now." He hunched like an animal for battle. My first instinct was flight, but my second instinct was ego.

"No, it's not like that. I'm not so goddamn predictable anymore!"

"Oh, you're not? I know there was a guy, Liz. I know he did you real good, I can tell from your hair. I mean, seriously, you couldn't have bothered to brush it?"

I put my hands over my ears. "You sound like my mother! You don't even know what my hair looks like anymore! I haven't seen you since December and I've gotten a hair cut and I'm a different person and you have no idea what my hair looks like now!"

"You fell in love, because you always fall in love. And he broke your heart and now you're imagining this whole crazy thing again, just so you can come crying to me."

"No no no! It's different this time!"

"Then why are you here, huh?"

I pulled a petal. "I love you not."

He sighed and the weight fell out of his shoulders. "Okay, let's play a game. Pull the petals, but don't say it out loud until the end."

"Okay. You're on."

I furiously yanked at the petals of my daisy.

Love, not, not, love, love, love, love, not, love, love, not, not, not, not, not, love, not, love, love...

We held up our final petals.

"What does yours say?"

"What does yours say?"

Writing April 21 2009