Promise

I opened my eyes slowly that morning. The sun was illuminating my room; I had over slept once more. I sat upright in my bed, running my fingers through my tangled sex hair. I dropped my hands into my lap as a yawn escaped my lips.

I peered out of the corner of my eye, to find the other half of my queen sized bed, empty. I wasn’t surprised at this. This was the same as every Saturday morning. Waking up alone was almost a routine for me now. I wasn’t fazed by it anymore.

Ever since he left, I was use to waking up alone. I may not go to bed alone every night, but I always wake up alone. This was all his fault. He had driven me to this.

Every Friday night, I went out. I either went out to a bar or a club, it didn’t matter which, I just had to go out. I went out with the intentions of meeting a good looking a guy, just as every woman did on Friday night. This may seem harmless, but it’s far from it. Meeting the guy is in fact harmless, but sleeping with the guy is far from it. Sleeping with a guy that you have only known for a few hours can bring nothing but drama. Waking up alone afterwards only causes pain. As much as I hate to admit it, the more I did it, the easier it became for me.

The feeling that I received replaced my pain. I no longer felt alone. I no longer felt the pain in my chest. It was as if the whole in my heart was temporarily filled. I no longer felt numb. The aching in my chest disappeared. My stomach no longer churned, desperately wanting to empty itself. I eyes no longer stung from my salty tears.

I felt wanted. I felt as if I was needed. I didn’t care if I was only needed to satisfy physical needs; I just wanted to be needed again. It didn’t matter if the feeling was temporary; it was enough to make me feel better. It was enough to make my pain subside, if only for a while.

I slowly crawled out of the bed and into my bathroom. I ran the hot water, before stepping out of my clothes. I stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to run over my skin, relaxing me. I ran my hands through my hair as I closed my eyes. I sighed as my muscles relaxed. I quickly washed my body with my vanilla body wash. I dried myself off with my towel before wrapping it around my body.

I started at myself in the mirror, observing my appearance. My golden brown skin, held an afterglow just as it always does the morning after. My dark brown hair fell past my shoulders. It was now stringy and wavy, from being washed. My hazel eyes appeared brighter under the florescent lights. My plump lips looked soft.

I smiled slightly at my appearance. It was good to see that I looked like my old self again. He hadn’t completely ruined me. My morals may have to be compromised in order for me to look this way, but it was worth it. It was worth it to not feel the pain anymore.

I pulled my hair up into a hair ponytail after blow drying it. I changed my clothes, deciding that I wasn’t going to go anywhere else for the day. I usually spent my Saturday mornings at home. It was relaxing.

I walked down the hall of my apartment and into the kitchen. I wasn’t in the mood to cook, so I simply made myself a bowl of cereal before walking back down the hall.

As I got closer to my room, I passed a small table in the hallway. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a picture frame laying face down. I narrowed my eyes in confusion as I stared at it. I didn’t know what provoked me to do it, but I walked over to the picture frame.

I set my bowl down on the table as I picked up the frame. I instantly regretted picking up the picture as I looked at it. I should have known that the frame was laying down for a reason. How could I have forgotten this picture, this drawing?

It was a sketch, his sketch. I could still remember the exact day that he had given me this sketch. The day was etched into my mind perfectly. I was indescribably happy when he gave this to me.

This was no longer the case. I wanted nothing to do with it today. Whenever I saw it I was reminded of how he broke his promise. I was reminded of how he did the exact thing that he said he wouldn’t.

Let me go

Yet, no matter how much I wanted to forget I couldn’t. I could remember Aubrey Graham perfectly, and I could remember the day he made his promise.