Smuttily Ever After
Page 19
DEVASTATE
By Marley Valentine
Expected Release: Spring 2017
© Copyright Held by MarleyValentine
This Document is unedited and subject to change.
Prologue
Evie,
Months and months have passed, and I have tried to crawl my way out of the depths of hell. I’ve tried to return to the land of the living, and be the man you need me to be. The pillar of strength you deserve. But, broken hearted and beaten down, I’m a pathetic excuse of a man. There is no glass half full, or the possibility of sunshine after the rain. There is only darkness. Strangling me from the inside out; there will only ever be darkness.
Every morning is the same. I open my eyes, and for a split second I forget. I forget the moment the colour drained itself from your face. I forget the sound of your knees slamming against the concrete, as you dropped to the floor. And I forget how the sound of your wails bounced off every wall in that room, wrapping themselves around my eardrums, so that it is all I hear. For a few moments everyday, I forget.
With your tiny breaths filling the room, I watch your body rise and fall whilst you sleep. I allow myself to notice how much you’ve changed and let the blame seep into my pores. My eyes rake over your body. Small and petite, you curl yourself around a pillow; the pillow that has become the stand in body, to hold, hug and provide comfort. The dark circles under your eyes, the way your collarbones protrude, I’ve pushed you to look the exact same way that I feel. Lifeless.
Into the depths of hell, plagued by an eternity of nothingness, I am painfully aware that if we continue this way, I will drag you down. The emptiness that consumes me, will consume us, and the love we shared will be a distant memory. With time, it will fade and you and I will be hollow, dull versions of the people we once were. Passing like two ships, we won’t touch, we won’t talk and we will forget how to live. This hole in my heart is big, slicing me in two. Each rip, more painful than the last. The pain is crippling and my God is it constant. Like dead weight, I carry it around with me every fucking day and I can’t do it anymore. I thought I could survive the destruction, that together we would heal, but here and now, it’s just like a knife digging deeper into my wounds every damn day and I don’t know if I can handle it any longer.
Watching you last night for the millionth time, I realized this was the end. The end of us, and the end of me. I can no longer watch you sneak off into our daughter’s room, when you think I’m asleep. I know you hide your pain from me, and it does nothing but make it worse that I can’t make it better for you. There’s nothing left of me, and my heart doesn’t know how to deal with watching you on your knees, leaning on her bed. With her clothes and toys scattered all over her handmade quilt, I watch your body shake as you try to stifle the sobs. Every night I watch you, my wife, break down, and I watch your heart shatter into a million more pieces than the night before. And the piece of shit that I am can’t do anything. Won’t do anything? I’m not even sure of which one it is.
What I do know is that my beautiful, courageous and loving Evie is falling apart, and I can’t save you. I can’t hold you, I can’t wipe your tears and I can’t tell you it’s going to be better. Empty. Void. Exhausted. I’m a shell of the man I used to be, I’m no longer me. I’m no longer a father, and I’m no longer a husband. I am a failure. And for that, I am so, so sorry.
You are more than my first love. You are more than my last love…
You are my GREAT love.
Evie, My Love. My Heart. My Soul. My Everything.
Forgive Me. Remember Me.
Love Me.
Always.
***
His arms are around my waist, holding me back as I kick and scream. Clawing at his arms, trying to get him to loosen his grip. Words are coming out of my mouth, but nothing is making sense. My nails puncture his skin. His soft whispers contradict my wailing. Nothing is registering. I know I’m hurting him, but I’m so far removed, I can’t stop. My hiccupped sobbing has turned into howling; add his tightening grip, and I can barely breathe. I haven’t eaten in days and when your will to live is taken, everything else comes second. The coffin finally passes our pew, and I feel the moment his mask slips and grief slaps him in the face. His grip loosens and the fight leaves his body. I don’t think twice. I run. I run away from him and away from them, and throw myself at the coffin. The pallbearers stop and gently place the coffin on the floor. Awkwardly standing around, everyone stares as I lower my body and clumsily manage to curl my body around the solid piece of wood.
They can’t take him. I’ve already lost her. I should be there with them. Like a mantra I repeat it. I close my eyes and hope this is all a dream. Slipping into darkness, I pray to God, to take me. Put me out of my misery.
They can’t take him. I’ve already lost her. I’ll be with you soon.