Break Down The Walls

I opened the door to my apartment, exhausted. Who knew that emailing and phone calling could be so tiring? I lazily threw my bag on the couch, kicked my heels off in the middle of the living room, and plopped down on a kitchen chair. I rested my head on the table, too tired to move for food. I felt myself dozing off but I knew I would have a killer backache if I did not sleep in a proper position.

Oh well, I thought to myself, fuck you back! I’m going to sleep in this awkward position and you’re going to deal with it! It took me a minute to realize I was threatening my own back…damn I was really tired.

I opened the fridge, inhaled some left over pasta and chicken (which I ate cold because I didn’t want to wait for it to heat up), and washed it down with some milk. That is a dinner for a champion my friends.

I trudged up the stairs to my bed and did a record change into my pajamas, and brushed my teeth in 30 seconds. Seconds later, I drifted off to sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I felt a cold body climb into bed and come closer to me. I was awoken roughly from the sudden change in temperature. I had gone from all-around warmth to a coldness invading my little space.

The intruder snaked his hands around my waist and I felt his chin rest on my back. I sighed and wiggled out of his grasp, still not facing him.

“Querida, I’m sorry. It was a long night at work, I couldn’t just leave.” he said, scooting closer to me.

“It seems you have to work late every night Emilio.” I retorted, suddenly wide awake.

“My boss is a slave driver! He claims the car business is failing so he pressures us to work longer and harder.” he exclaimed, his lips dangerously close to my ear.

“I’m sure it’s against your will when you have to spend hours talking to young girls about cars. Is that the only thing you help them with? Cars?” I said crudely, my teeth grinding together.

“Oh right. Let’s criticize my job. I work with cars while you work with a bunch of half naked men who are all muscular and wanted by thousands of women. No, you’re right, I’m the one with the messed up job!” he sniped, sarcasm literally falling off his words.

“I don’t jump on them though, unlike someone I know.” I scoffed, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Jesus Sophie! How many times must I tell you that I am not cheating on you?!” he yelled, pulling away from me and slamming his fist down on the mattress. I cringed at the sudden outburst, but remained where I was.

“Whatever. I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.” he said, getting up and taking his pillow with him. I stayed silent and quiet, it was like this most nights. I got back into a comfortable position, and once again fell asleep with a pit of loneliness lodged in my stomach.

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When I woke up that morning, I was alone again. Emilio had left for work again, and once again I found myself making breakfast for myself. As I whipped up an omelet, I couldn’t help to ponder over how wrong things had gone in the past few weeks.

Emilio and I met at a club one night. I was 21 and celebrating being young and single, dancing wildly and drinking like there was going to be a shortage of alcohol. Emilio was with his friends, trying to cheer up a friend who had just recently gone through a nasty breakup with his girlfriend. We met on the dance floor, as cliché as that may sound.
Enrique Iglesias was blasting through the speakers and everyone was a mass of bodies squished together, dancing like there was no tomorrow. Dancing with Emilio, I thought nothing of it. He was incredibly handsome, that I could not deny, but I assumed he was just another dance partner. He was tall and muscular, with short black hair spiked slightly in the front. He had dazzling green eyes and a smile that could light up a room. I was infected by his presence, he was something else. After the song had ended, I expected him to leave or find another girl, but he stayed. We never danced with anyone else that night, and after we had danced so much that our feet hurt, he invited me over to the bar for a drink.

As we drank, we got to know each other. He was 22, a car salesman, and he was single. I was 21, 2 years left of press internship, and single as well. One thing led to another, and before knew it, I was leaving the club with a fresh number tucked tightly in my dress.
We called each other every day after that night.

I surprised myself how fast I fell in love with Emilio Gonzalez. I wasn’t usually one to wear my heart on my sleeve, but there was something about it. He was witty, smart, charming, funny, handsome, and wealthy. A few months after we started dating, we moved in with each other. He became my everything. He loved me like I’ve never been loved.

But there was a flaw in our relationship.

Emilio wanted to make love to me, but I didn’t want to. Call me old fashioned, but I believed and still believe in no pre-marital sex which angered Emilio. He thought that since we loved each other, it was perfectly acceptable to sleep with one another, but I wouldn’t have it. At first, although he was disappointed, he respected my decision. He would test his luck on some nights, and after getting turned down he would sulk, but nothing dramatic.

It was 3 months ago that things went downhill. After refusing sex once again, he stormed out of the house and didn’t come home all night. The next morning he kissed me, as if nothing had happened, ignoring the fact completely. I didn’t bring it up; I wasn’t going to start a fight early in the morning. I should have said something, but I didn’t.

Emilio started coming home later and later, blaming it on work. He never asked for sex anymore, and our relationship started to disintegrate slowly. We stopped going out, we barely saw each other. The past 3 months it’s been like this, but we both don’t know what to say each other.

In my heart, I knew Emilio was cheating on me. But my head told me I was being insecure, that I had no proof and I shouldn’t make conclusions. However, my heart dropped when I smelled sweet perfume on him, or when he was always on his phone. Still, I loved Emilio, craving to go back to how it used to be, but I knew we were done. We had grown so far apart, that the road back to each other was a long and treacherous one, that we both were skeptical about taking.

I couldn’t bring myself to leave him. I still loved him so much, with every fiber in my heart. I didn’t know what to do without him, even though we barely saw each other. I wasn’t happy in my relationship, but I’d be worse without him

I had no clue what the hell I was supposed to do. I ate my breakfast hurriedly, got ready for work, and found a new found spark in my heart.

I was actually excited to go to work.