I Dream of His Lips on Your Cheek.
I Dream Of His Lips On Your Cheek.
It was more than just torture seeing those hands intertwine; seeing those lips meet. My body ached to do all the things he would do to her, but I had to stand my ground. This had been all me, I was the one who had seen her walk out the door - the one who told her to go. I couldn't blame her for moving on, she had every right to find someone else who made her happy, it was what she needed, so I let it happen. My heart still ached at the thought of it, slowly tearing itself into further pieces and driving me closer to the brink of insanity.
I couldn't stop looking at her, whenever she smiled I knew she'd found someone so much better, someone who could look after her when I couldn't. Things would be easy for them the way they never were for us, that much was obvious. I knew she loved me, she knew I loved her, I guess too much got in the way. She was the girl of my dreams, everything I ever wanted, my future wife, the future mother of my children - my everything. I suppose that's why they say relationships our age don't last, we never seem to know a good thing when we've got it and throw it out of the window when something shiny and new comes along, then the shine goes, the blindfold is lifted and you're left in the dirt thinking about the girl you left behind.
My friends were calling my name now, tugging on my arm to move me away. It didn't work, none of it would. I could tear my eyes away, I knew that even if I did I'd be playing the same scene over and over again. Seeing the gleam in her eyes, the same eyes that used to shine so bright for me and only me. My mind was going into overdrive thinking about them, thinking about the way they'd touch when they were alone, wondering if he could make her so desperate like I would, if the way his hands felt on her skin would feel the same as they way mine once did. The way they did before I broke her, and myself. I could see from the moment I'd told her she was broken beyond repair, I'd given her everything and taken it away when she thought she had it to rest on for the long years left of her life. It was so easy to see her hurt, I didn't see mine until it was too late - far too late.
"Baby, don't cry," I whispered, the glistening in her eyes warning me before anyone knew it. She was here, right in front of me, within touching distance. It took too much out of me not to just hold her until all her fears left, although I knew I had long lost that power over her. I knew I had lost any power over her, any at all. Her boy was off in the distance, off holding another girl. I had given her in for another heartache, setting off a chain of events I hadn't even known I could create. She was so cynical when we met, so hurt, so alone. I remember every day she looked better, every day her smile would be that little bit brighter. I'd fixed her up to break her all over again, adding emphasis to the cynicism I had helped to bury, the one I had locked away. I'd always hoped it would stay that way for ever, that I'd never hurt her, but I did. I broke her worse than she was before I met. I guess it would have been better for me to have never met her at all, but the thought alone caused every fibre of my being to protest. Just knowing I had her once was enough, knowing she once loved me as much as I loved her.
"It happened again, John. Everything you promised would never happen," she told me, shaking her head. Her breath was heaving, sobs about to start forcing their way from her body. It killed me to see her like this, knowing I had been the reason for this ever happening, knowing I had set her up for another fall. I couldn't help myself as the tears excaped her eyes, I grabbed her softly, pulling her into my chest. Her hands gripped at my shirt, a shirt I could feel getting wetter and wetter as the moments went by. I didn't mind, I prefered her being in my arms to being anywhere else. It was the only comfort I could give her now. I couldn't whisper 'I love you's like I once had, or kiss her her lips the way that made her melt. I spent the next few minutes stroking her hair softly, humming her favourite tune, the only other things I could think to do in this situation other than the afore mentioned methods.
"He didn't deserve you, El," I told her softly. I hoped she could still see when I meant the words I said, I hoped she could still see that I would never lie to her. She started shaking her head once again, over and over, backing off, leaving my embrace.
"Don't say this to me. I didn't deserve him. I didn't deserve Alan, or Jeremy... I didn't deserve you." The last part came out as more of a whisper, the rest as strong as her breaking voice could muster. It hurt me more than you could imagine to see her putting herself down this way. I started choking out counter arguments, countless reasons why she deserved better than any of the boys she'd been with before now, better than anyone in the world had to offer. I couldn't think straight, pouring my heart out to her in no order besides the way it came to my head. Garrett looked on at the two of us, his warning face nowhere in sight. Knowing I had to tell her everything if he ever wanted his friend back the way I had once been.
"I love you, Eleanor. I always have, and I always will." My heart was out there, in her hands. There was no taking it back now, no way my chest would accept it back where it had once resided. There were only two options left for us, both as likely as the other. She could drop it to the floor, using the ever reliable skate shoes to crush it to the floor, or she could hold it close and take care of it like she had before. Before we had been broken. I could see the indecision in her eyes, the hurt I had caused holding her back. We both knew exactly what the other was thinking. She knew I was desperate for her answer, and I knew she didn't know if what I had to give would make up for all the hurt I had put her through; all the heartache I had caused. It would only be fair for her to break my heart in return, but I knew her, she wouldn't do anything to me out of sheer spite. El was no angel, she had people she would hurt out of spite, but I knew I wasn't part of that small group, hoping - praying - I never would be.
"John... I don't know...." It was nothing short of the quietest thing she had ever uttered. She wanted this, I could see that much. I could see the desire, the love, the need to have what we once had back like it was. Everything had changed but one thing - I still wanted her for ever, and she still wanted me. To me, that was all that mattered.
"Give me a chance," I pleaded, "let me make this worth it. Let me hold you and never let go, I don't know how I've gone on without you. I don't know what I was thinking, why I didn't listen to what my heart told me. It's you and me, baby; you're all I want for the rest of my time on this God forsaken planet. Let me make you love me all over again." Her eyes darted to my own. Metaphorically speaking, I could feel my heart moving to where she had chosen to put it. Her hands were slackening around it, it was dropping. I didn't expect the break, I never would. It was a cushioned fall, straight into her pocket where it belonged, close to her.
"I love you, John O'Callaghan. I never stopped." She was smiling now, and so was I. The first genuine smile I had let out in such a long way. The gleam I had seen only weeks before had passed itself into shining all over again; only for me.
Standing there on the concrete ground, her in my arms, my face in her hair, I felt complete for the first time in so many months. This time, I wasn't going to let go.
I couldn't stop looking at her, whenever she smiled I knew she'd found someone so much better, someone who could look after her when I couldn't. Things would be easy for them the way they never were for us, that much was obvious. I knew she loved me, she knew I loved her, I guess too much got in the way. She was the girl of my dreams, everything I ever wanted, my future wife, the future mother of my children - my everything. I suppose that's why they say relationships our age don't last, we never seem to know a good thing when we've got it and throw it out of the window when something shiny and new comes along, then the shine goes, the blindfold is lifted and you're left in the dirt thinking about the girl you left behind.
My friends were calling my name now, tugging on my arm to move me away. It didn't work, none of it would. I could tear my eyes away, I knew that even if I did I'd be playing the same scene over and over again. Seeing the gleam in her eyes, the same eyes that used to shine so bright for me and only me. My mind was going into overdrive thinking about them, thinking about the way they'd touch when they were alone, wondering if he could make her so desperate like I would, if the way his hands felt on her skin would feel the same as they way mine once did. The way they did before I broke her, and myself. I could see from the moment I'd told her she was broken beyond repair, I'd given her everything and taken it away when she thought she had it to rest on for the long years left of her life. It was so easy to see her hurt, I didn't see mine until it was too late - far too late.
"Baby, don't cry," I whispered, the glistening in her eyes warning me before anyone knew it. She was here, right in front of me, within touching distance. It took too much out of me not to just hold her until all her fears left, although I knew I had long lost that power over her. I knew I had lost any power over her, any at all. Her boy was off in the distance, off holding another girl. I had given her in for another heartache, setting off a chain of events I hadn't even known I could create. She was so cynical when we met, so hurt, so alone. I remember every day she looked better, every day her smile would be that little bit brighter. I'd fixed her up to break her all over again, adding emphasis to the cynicism I had helped to bury, the one I had locked away. I'd always hoped it would stay that way for ever, that I'd never hurt her, but I did. I broke her worse than she was before I met. I guess it would have been better for me to have never met her at all, but the thought alone caused every fibre of my being to protest. Just knowing I had her once was enough, knowing she once loved me as much as I loved her.
"It happened again, John. Everything you promised would never happen," she told me, shaking her head. Her breath was heaving, sobs about to start forcing their way from her body. It killed me to see her like this, knowing I had been the reason for this ever happening, knowing I had set her up for another fall. I couldn't help myself as the tears excaped her eyes, I grabbed her softly, pulling her into my chest. Her hands gripped at my shirt, a shirt I could feel getting wetter and wetter as the moments went by. I didn't mind, I prefered her being in my arms to being anywhere else. It was the only comfort I could give her now. I couldn't whisper 'I love you's like I once had, or kiss her her lips the way that made her melt. I spent the next few minutes stroking her hair softly, humming her favourite tune, the only other things I could think to do in this situation other than the afore mentioned methods.
"He didn't deserve you, El," I told her softly. I hoped she could still see when I meant the words I said, I hoped she could still see that I would never lie to her. She started shaking her head once again, over and over, backing off, leaving my embrace.
"Don't say this to me. I didn't deserve him. I didn't deserve Alan, or Jeremy... I didn't deserve you." The last part came out as more of a whisper, the rest as strong as her breaking voice could muster. It hurt me more than you could imagine to see her putting herself down this way. I started choking out counter arguments, countless reasons why she deserved better than any of the boys she'd been with before now, better than anyone in the world had to offer. I couldn't think straight, pouring my heart out to her in no order besides the way it came to my head. Garrett looked on at the two of us, his warning face nowhere in sight. Knowing I had to tell her everything if he ever wanted his friend back the way I had once been.
"I love you, Eleanor. I always have, and I always will." My heart was out there, in her hands. There was no taking it back now, no way my chest would accept it back where it had once resided. There were only two options left for us, both as likely as the other. She could drop it to the floor, using the ever reliable skate shoes to crush it to the floor, or she could hold it close and take care of it like she had before. Before we had been broken. I could see the indecision in her eyes, the hurt I had caused holding her back. We both knew exactly what the other was thinking. She knew I was desperate for her answer, and I knew she didn't know if what I had to give would make up for all the hurt I had put her through; all the heartache I had caused. It would only be fair for her to break my heart in return, but I knew her, she wouldn't do anything to me out of sheer spite. El was no angel, she had people she would hurt out of spite, but I knew I wasn't part of that small group, hoping - praying - I never would be.
"John... I don't know...." It was nothing short of the quietest thing she had ever uttered. She wanted this, I could see that much. I could see the desire, the love, the need to have what we once had back like it was. Everything had changed but one thing - I still wanted her for ever, and she still wanted me. To me, that was all that mattered.
"Give me a chance," I pleaded, "let me make this worth it. Let me hold you and never let go, I don't know how I've gone on without you. I don't know what I was thinking, why I didn't listen to what my heart told me. It's you and me, baby; you're all I want for the rest of my time on this God forsaken planet. Let me make you love me all over again." Her eyes darted to my own. Metaphorically speaking, I could feel my heart moving to where she had chosen to put it. Her hands were slackening around it, it was dropping. I didn't expect the break, I never would. It was a cushioned fall, straight into her pocket where it belonged, close to her.
"I love you, John O'Callaghan. I never stopped." She was smiling now, and so was I. The first genuine smile I had let out in such a long way. The gleam I had seen only weeks before had passed itself into shining all over again; only for me.
Standing there on the concrete ground, her in my arms, my face in her hair, I felt complete for the first time in so many months. This time, I wasn't going to let go.