Tennessee

I curled up in bed that night and time stretched on. My eyes begged to close and rest, but my brain whirred in my own thoughts. After repressing these feelings for so long, they burst out. I pressed my cheek into the sheets and sobs broke through; I muffled them with a hand.


The night that it happened, Ben and I were not very happy with each other. In fact, we were furious with each other. Ben worked on a tour poster design while I was worked on a dress for a textile class. Our own problems and our own loads of labor created tension.

"Get your potato sack off my work table," Ben grumbled as he picked my half sewn maxi dress off the table and gave me a glare.

I gave him a black look, "You know, if you hadn't spent the entirety of the week playing video games, maybe you wouldn't be so stressed with work," I seethed and reached for my dress.

Ben shot me an annoyed look, "Yeah okay, Tennessee, maybe if you didn't go out with your little fashion buds all the time, maybe you wouldn't be so fucking stressed either," he shot back.

"Fuck you," I muttered.

"You know what? Fuck you, Tenn," he said.

"Fine!" I cried and got up from my seat.

"Where are you going?" he asked. He took off his glasses and wiped them on his red plaid button-up with a tired look on his face.

"To my parents'," I said and moved into our bedroom.

"W-what?" Ben asked, his voice had given in to his surprise.

"I am leaving!" I said and began pulling out drawers and stuffing an overnight bag with clothes.

Ben walked inside the room and sat on the bed; he watched my agitated motions with a sad look on his face. His brown eyes looked attentive and his brow was furrowed.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

I stopped and looked at him. My hands slowly let go of the bag I had in my hands and I sighed as I whispered, "Me, too. You know, I don't know what I was thinki-"

Ben cut me off as he pulled me in for a kiss. His hand went underneath my chin and pulled me closer. I pushed him away.

"I thought we were having a serious moment," I muttered.

His reply -his dark and serious eyes as a foundation- was, "We are."

I felt my back tingle as I watched him for a second. "Are we?" I whispered.

His response was to pull me back. His kisses, every one of them was sweeter than the last. His hands rippled over my skin and soon there was nothing holding us back. My inhibitions were gone and when I caught Ben's eyes raking over me as if I was the most precious thing in the world, I realized that Ben was the only one in the entire planet who I could make love to. He eased into me and with a final gasp and sigh, we were one.


I stifled a moan and continued crying. Soon, a sliver of light found its way to me and I looked up to see Mary peeking in. Her anxious eyes found my pained face and she immediately ran to my bed and dug herself in my sheets.

"What's wrong?" she crooned as she held me.

I shook my head back and forth into her shoulder. My cries turned into thwarting hitches and breathy groans. I looked up to see Mary's face and her own eyes were shiny with tears.

"What did he do to you?" she gasped and pushed a strand of my hair out of my face.

"He left, he's gone. He's gone," I groaned.

"He left?" Mary asked.

I nodded, "He left. I woke up and he was gone. Nothing, he left me with nothing," I moaned.



"Phone!" I called through the apartment.

I was lounging around the couch and reading a book when the shrill ringing of the phone sounded off the walls. Ben grunted and picked it up. He had been particularly stressed out that month. His job was asking a lot of him and we were both so busy. It was a rare day off for both of us and we usually used them to lithely lie around our high-rise, watching lame movies together or using our bedroom.

As soon as Ben answered the phone in his raspy voice, I knew something was wrong. His eyes bulged and he quickly moved into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. I stared at the closed door for a second and then shrugged. He would tell me later.

I began to worry when he didn't come out for hours. The sun painted the sky in an assortment of pinks, violets, and oranges and still he wouldn't come out. I chewed my bottom lip and knocked on the door tentatively.

"Ben? Can I come in?" I asked feebly.

It took a few long moments before I heard Ben quietly move to turn the doorknob. What I saw scared me. He was blank. He didn't even seem to see me as I walked inside the room and placed my hands on his face.

"What's wrong? What's happened?" I questioned.

Ben's eyes were glazed over; it shocked me how out of place he looked, like he had no idea who I was. My hands covered his face and he finally looked down at me as if he barely realized my presence.

His eyes tightened and his voice was low, "Nothing. Nothing is wrong."

I didn't believe him, not at all. I felt panic fill my chest and searched his face. Why was he lying to me? Why was he like this? I kissed his lips softly. He was tense, as if he were thinking of something else. I looked at him in confusion as I pulled away. He looked at the floor.

My heart pulled into a million different pieces, something was not right. Something was brewing.

I woke up the next morning and Ben was dressing. I greeted him, "Good morning."

He didn't look at me. I noticed that his moves were slow and unwilling. I guessed he was still being bothered by whatever had happened yesterday and I ached to know what it was.
"Ben?" I asked when he didn't respond.

He dawdled as he put his jeans on along with a crisp white shirt and skinny tie. He seemed to be prolonging looking or responding to me. My head tilted as I watched him. I was almost angry; he was being so bizarre. Finally (and I didn't know it would be the last time) he looked at me. His deep brown eyes found my face and he looked pained.

"Ben-" I was interrupted by his lips on mine.

His kiss was passionate and I found myself gasping within seconds. When he pulled away he looked at me. His hands held me, they wrapped in my hair and neck as he looked at me. I stared at him; his eyes were so calculating, like he was memorizing my face.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you," I said back hesitantly.

He gazed at me for a long second before untangling his hands slowly from me. He walked out of the room with one final glance before leaving the apartment and shutting the door, out of my life.

When I arrived home that night after work at Clemence Ulliel's, the apartment looked strange. Things were out of place. I slowly turned on the lights and my voice shakily called out into the eerie space. In my heart I knew.

"Ben? I missed you at work. I guess you came home early," I murmured, tears already blurring my vision and my heart sinking as I walked into the bedroom. It was neat, the bed was made and the closet door was open.

"I guess you went out to get us dinner," I sobbed as I sank down to my knees in front of the half empty closet, my dresses and silks alone.

"Ben!" I cried.

He had packed everything. He left. Nothing. I was nothing.

"Ben?!" I bawled incoherently after hours of tears.

That night I was grieving. The night after that I was angry. The third night I discovered where he was. The next night, I lost myself. Because that night was the first time I got high.



"His brother died. That's what his boss said. He resigned and took off. He left for Seattle to be with his family. He didn't call. He didn't write. He's gone. I w-wasn't enough," I said blankly, my heart getting colder and colder as I stated the facts.

Mary looked at me. Her eyes were swimming and I began to cry harder, my chest heaved and I felt as if I couldn't get air fast enough. I was dying. Mary cried with me and it helped. I needed to know someone understood and I needed it as much as I needed to let go of Ben.

I had no choice anymore. It was either let go and live or...

There was no choice anymore.


Ben Sydney

"I have to go back," I said.

My mother eyed me carefully. I tried to muffle the unruly heartbreak in my voice with the sleeve of my shirt. The cloudy Washington skies seemed to replicate my mood outside the bay windows. Mom's frail frame seemed to wither with my words and I internally cringed. But how much could I give and she take? A year was so long.... much too long. I doubted Tennessee would even take me back. I doubted I could tell her what happened without begging for her to forgive me. She deserved my groveling.

I closed my eyes and leaned into my arms on the heavy oak table. Tenny's face was behind my lids. Her narrow and freckled nose, her wide hazel eyes, and her thick auburn hair all met me and I felt the familiar and still agonizing ache of loss.

My mother suddenly sighed and I looked up from my misery. She smiled grimly and gave me one curt nod before standing up to go to her bedroom.

I was going back to the city that held my heart.