Status: Finished.
This Empty Love
Chapter 19
When I got home Taylor wasn’t at the house. She was probably still out with Cara avoiding me, thinking that I was still mad at her from this morning. Which, at the time, I sort of was. I felt rejected and that, even after all our time together, still managed to bring me down. But, I had blow off steam at practice, meaning I wasn’t remotely peeved anymore.
While I waited for her to get home, I wanted to plan something perfect. I didn’t want there to be any way for our “date” to backfire on me. Some of me even wanted the dinner to remind us of the good parts of out past. That’s what we needed; good past, good future.
I headed into Taylor’s room knowing she had a few of our old picture albums stashed away in there. Sliding open the closet door, I reached up and grabbed one of the thick, black books from the shelf.
Flipping it open, I realized it was mainly her family photos so I shut it and threw it behind me and onto her bed. I grabbed the next book on the shelf and tugged it down. Along with it came the final photo album, and a small grey book hidden behind the two.
Bending down, I scooped up all three books into my arms and piled them onto the mattress before sitting down myself. I grabbed the small book first and inspected the outside. Curious, I opened it.
The first few pages were blank, but after a turning pages it became apparent that it was a diary. Taylor’s to be exact. I could tell by the hand writing. This confused me because Taylor usually, as long as I had known her, refused to use one.
Letting my curiosity get the best in me, I read some of it. The first entry was dated two years ago. I started to flip through the pages, wondering what was inside this little black book. I’m horrible.
Taylor skipped around a lot, never writing consecutively for more than just a few days, and some entrties even spaced out between months. The entries were hardly more than five lines, if even, and nothing was really detailed. It was just the basics, filled with little hints and abbreviations.
Finally, I came across something substantial. It was dated back in November, when our marriage first started becoming rocky.
11/09/08-
Oli and I fought bad today. I get the feeling it might have been the last straw for us both. I said some shit, he said some shit. Wondering if we’re beyond repair yet?
-T
That’s how most of the writing was. A mix of incomplete sentences and hardly anything going into detail. I turned to another page, which was dated a few days after Christmas.
12/29/08-
We had a fairly normal Christmas, no fighting. I’m still concerned. Oli seems to be growing distant and I’m no better. We got a dog, Hamilton. I’m hoping he’ll, in a way, be able to help us out.
-T
I soaked in the fact that Taylor admitted she was partly to blame. That never happened much, so it was interesting to see her admit it to herself. After the 29th, there wasn’t another entry until January, the month I cheated on Taylor.
01/23/09-
Oliver cheated on me. Cheated. It’s such a ridiculous word. It’s associated with things like monopoly and child games. It shouldn’t have anything to do with relationships. But it did. He did. I’m crying. How could he? After all we had been through? I think I’m going to be sick. And it was withher, that skank he was with during our break. I think that’s what hurts the most.
I don’t know what to do, how to handle this. For now, I’m going to get drunk. Doesn’t that sound like a perfect way to cope? Maybe I can forget he was “man enough to tell me.”
-T
I read the two paragraphs over and over, noticing the tear drops scattered across the page. Her writing was simple but her thoughts weren’t. It was like a slap in the face that I hurt her, made her cry. There was another entry bout a week later. It was the longest yet.
02/01/09-
I’m a horrible person. A horrible person who can’t handle situations. I’m just as bad as Oliver. I cheated. I got drunk a few days after he told me, grabbed the closest guy at a party, and had sex with him. I may just be the biggest hypocrite of all time.
I did it so I could throw it in his face, so I could get back at him, show him how I felt, because of what he did to me. But now, I can’t even bring myself to tell him, I can’t hurt him like he hurt me.
I hurt myself also, if that’s possible. By cheating, I think I betrayed a part of myself. It hurts to think about. How could I have done this? Why can’t I take it back? There’s now way I can confess this to him. I’m not “man enough,” not at all.
I cheated with Max, their merch guy.
-T
I froze, reading the last line twice, three times. I read the whole thing until it was etched into my mind. It mad sense now, why Max quit only a few days after the said date. I bet it was hard for him, to keep a job after you banged your boss’s wife.
The hateful, angry thoughts clouded my mind and wouldn’t leave. All I could think about was the words in the diary. I didn’t bother reading anymore, I couldn’t stomach any of it. Instead, I slammed the book shut and threw it at the all, watching it hit the door and fall onto the carpet. Leaning forward I buried my face in my hands, and after so long, I finally cried.
While I waited for her to get home, I wanted to plan something perfect. I didn’t want there to be any way for our “date” to backfire on me. Some of me even wanted the dinner to remind us of the good parts of out past. That’s what we needed; good past, good future.
I headed into Taylor’s room knowing she had a few of our old picture albums stashed away in there. Sliding open the closet door, I reached up and grabbed one of the thick, black books from the shelf.
Flipping it open, I realized it was mainly her family photos so I shut it and threw it behind me and onto her bed. I grabbed the next book on the shelf and tugged it down. Along with it came the final photo album, and a small grey book hidden behind the two.
Bending down, I scooped up all three books into my arms and piled them onto the mattress before sitting down myself. I grabbed the small book first and inspected the outside. Curious, I opened it.
The first few pages were blank, but after a turning pages it became apparent that it was a diary. Taylor’s to be exact. I could tell by the hand writing. This confused me because Taylor usually, as long as I had known her, refused to use one.
Letting my curiosity get the best in me, I read some of it. The first entry was dated two years ago. I started to flip through the pages, wondering what was inside this little black book. I’m horrible.
Taylor skipped around a lot, never writing consecutively for more than just a few days, and some entrties even spaced out between months. The entries were hardly more than five lines, if even, and nothing was really detailed. It was just the basics, filled with little hints and abbreviations.
Finally, I came across something substantial. It was dated back in November, when our marriage first started becoming rocky.
11/09/08-
Oli and I fought bad today. I get the feeling it might have been the last straw for us both. I said some shit, he said some shit. Wondering if we’re beyond repair yet?
-T
That’s how most of the writing was. A mix of incomplete sentences and hardly anything going into detail. I turned to another page, which was dated a few days after Christmas.
12/29/08-
We had a fairly normal Christmas, no fighting. I’m still concerned. Oli seems to be growing distant and I’m no better. We got a dog, Hamilton. I’m hoping he’ll, in a way, be able to help us out.
-T
I soaked in the fact that Taylor admitted she was partly to blame. That never happened much, so it was interesting to see her admit it to herself. After the 29th, there wasn’t another entry until January, the month I cheated on Taylor.
01/23/09-
Oliver cheated on me. Cheated. It’s such a ridiculous word. It’s associated with things like monopoly and child games. It shouldn’t have anything to do with relationships. But it did. He did. I’m crying. How could he? After all we had been through? I think I’m going to be sick. And it was withher, that skank he was with during our break. I think that’s what hurts the most.
I don’t know what to do, how to handle this. For now, I’m going to get drunk. Doesn’t that sound like a perfect way to cope? Maybe I can forget he was “man enough to tell me.”
-T
I read the two paragraphs over and over, noticing the tear drops scattered across the page. Her writing was simple but her thoughts weren’t. It was like a slap in the face that I hurt her, made her cry. There was another entry bout a week later. It was the longest yet.
02/01/09-
I’m a horrible person. A horrible person who can’t handle situations. I’m just as bad as Oliver. I cheated. I got drunk a few days after he told me, grabbed the closest guy at a party, and had sex with him. I may just be the biggest hypocrite of all time.
I did it so I could throw it in his face, so I could get back at him, show him how I felt, because of what he did to me. But now, I can’t even bring myself to tell him, I can’t hurt him like he hurt me.
I hurt myself also, if that’s possible. By cheating, I think I betrayed a part of myself. It hurts to think about. How could I have done this? Why can’t I take it back? There’s now way I can confess this to him. I’m not “man enough,” not at all.
I cheated with Max, their merch guy.
-T
I froze, reading the last line twice, three times. I read the whole thing until it was etched into my mind. It mad sense now, why Max quit only a few days after the said date. I bet it was hard for him, to keep a job after you banged your boss’s wife.
The hateful, angry thoughts clouded my mind and wouldn’t leave. All I could think about was the words in the diary. I didn’t bother reading anymore, I couldn’t stomach any of it. Instead, I slammed the book shut and threw it at the all, watching it hit the door and fall onto the carpet. Leaning forward I buried my face in my hands, and after so long, I finally cried.