Devour

When Alice left I couldn’t bear to look at this old house. Every step I took I could see her like a ghost that haunted me. It was a never ending struggle against wanting her and trying to rediscover myself. Little did I know living without her was like trying to reinvent the wheel.

There were other women but none of them compared to her. They never had the same porcelain skin, cornsilk hair or the same tender touch. They always wanted more from me. Alice isn’t like that, she’s patient with my advances.

I stopped my silent worries and sat up in bed. I sighed and ran my hands through my messy hair. For so long I’ve dreamt of this day and somehow I thought it would make everything different. I imagined the sun would shine brighter and there would be a lightness to everything.

“Good morning, baby.” Alice said, her angelic face was pale from sleep. I ran my hand through her soft hair. She smiled and pressed her face against my hand.

“Mornin’.” I replied, as I threw the blankets back and stood up.

She sat up in the bed and raised an eyebrow, “When did you get that tattoo?”

I hesitated as she inched over to the edge of the bed and grazed her fingers over the skin of my back. Goosebumps ran up my spine causing me to shiver. She laughed and pulled away.

I turned around to face her, “One day while I was in LA Kat offered…”

Her face immediately registered confusion, “Who’s Kat?”

She was hurt, but it never was like that with Kat. She helped me get sober because she wanted me to be with her. I think she felt like she was helping write a fairy tale.

“She’s my friend. She tattoo’s.” I said as I walked to the French doors and pulled the heavy curtains open to reveal a cloudy sky. Rain was hammering against the balcony. The umbrella that used to cover the table and chairs was torn and tattered from years of hard weather and neglect.

“Oh, okay.” She replied simply. I grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the night stand and opened the French doors. I stood inside the house. The sound of rain made my heavy heart at peace again. Maybe it was because when it rained the rest of the world felt like I did everyday. I lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply then exhaled a cloud of smoke. Then that same pair of comforting arms wrapped around my middle and her perfect face press against my bare back.

“I love you.” She sighed, then pressed her lips against my skin. Then it struck me: I’m the luckiest man on earth.