The Sickest Love

            Nothing can ever measure up to our love. People dream of something special like ours. It is beyond these clinic walls. The moment I met you I knew we were meant to be one. We bonded over the love of art, spirituality, and the belief that we were not of this simple world. My most joyous memories were with you.

            You always gave me a state of euphoria. The taste of your aged mouth, the look in your wise eyes, and your strong bodily presence complete my very existence. The ignorant people couldn't comprehend us. They thought of you as a man who only knew dreams and could never establish real achievement. I was the foolish girl who knew nothing about reality.

            To me, you were a maestro. A maestro who was sadly giving in to his demons. But I would be your student absorbing all your knowledge. As my mind flourished so would our love.

            I love you.

            I also hate you.

            You have to be the most egotistical person in the world. Nobody was beyond yourself. No job, family, God or my own needs was treasured before yours. You took advantage of my vulnerability, instability, and desperation for your love as an outlet for your shortcomings.

            Remember when we both entered that painting contest? It was a national contest. You wanted to win to prove to your colleges and America that you were a brilliant artist. A genius. Some kind of Da Vinci prophet. To you, you deserved all the fame, glory and the cash prize of $15,000. I wanted to win to finally prove to you that I was good enough for you. I wasn't a poor naïve big-eyed girl, but a woman capable of great intelligence and talent. Maybe then you could finally appreciate me as a equal. But I was wrong.

            I won the contest. I won the praise, recognition, and prize money, but you couldn't handle

it. In the aftermath, you starved me, beat me, cursed me, and told that I was the most senseless animal ever and a complete traitor. You spent all of my crash prize to create your own name in the art world. Trying to fund for your own insecurities and desperate need for attention.

            But through all of that, I still loved you. I still tried to prove that I was worthy of your love. You were my teacher. Idol. Master.

            Even with all that being said, I still hate you. Because you did the most selfish thing imaginable, you took your own life. You destroyed the only thing that connected you and I in this world, life. You left me here alone to rot.

            At night, I call your name wanting you to come back. So loud that nurses bang on the door, some even laugh. I've been warned that if I don't stop now, I'll have to experience shock therapy, causing me to lose memories of you.

            But I can't. I can't think, sleep, feel or even live without you. I wish I was that rope that was around your neck. Clinging on as I took every air out of your body. I want to lie dead right next to you.

            Everyday is a nightmare. The staff and the other patients wanders mindlessly through these dead hollow halls. How dare they live? Only you and I have the right to live. They are dirtying our pure beautiful world. The only way this nightmare can end is if I join you in our own abyss.

            But until then, I have to stay on this putrid earth longing for our reconciliation. Goodnight, my love. Goodnight, my dream. Goodnight, my universe.

The Love Car

               I will never forget that car. It was an aged white Vollkswagen Beetle. I never thought things could happen in that machine until he drove me in it. At the time I knew him for three months but I felt like I knew him for years. He was cute, funny, and different.

            He was nothing like George. He didn't announce his resume to anybody who listen or picked out my clothes so I wouldn't embarrass him. Nope. He wore cargos to his high school graduation. Dan opened the car door, took my hand and walked me down the beach.

            I felt the warm sand between my toes and his fingers running down my arms. He laid down the blanket and took two champagne glasses out of the picnic basket.

            Dan: I know this isn't what you're use to. This isn't a 5 star restaurant.

            Me: It doesn't matter. You can't put a price on this.

            He poured champagne in our glasses and told me childhood stories of him on the beach. I laughed when he told me that his cousin almost peed on him when he was stung by a jellyfish. We did a lot of that. Laughing and talking.

            When the sun finally set and the mosquitoes got annoying, we slowly moved back to the car. With the windows down we still felt the cool air.

            Dan: I'm really happy that you came today. You seemed really tense when I asked you out.

            Me: I'm really happy you asked. I just been having a hard time moving and leaving my past life behind.

            Dan: I understand.

            He moved my hair out of my face and proceeded to smooth it with his fingers. Somehow, I became a little nervous. Good nervous. I kissed his fingertips. He leaned closer to kiss my nose.  He then went lower to my neck. The small size of the car created a close comforting space. I moaned with pleasure.

            George would never kiss me like this. I backed away to meet his eyes. They were brown like coffee grinded from the earth. That's when I realized that I deserved this. Not the critique of my looks or restrictions on PDA. I deserved the hot breath and eager eyes.

            I looked at his soulful eyes again and pressed my lips on his. I explored his mouth with my tongue. We melted in that car.

            We created a memory in that car.

            A memory that I will always cherish and be reminded of every morning when I see that sexy white Beetle in my driveway.