Stupid For You

I should have known that all things good eventually come to an end. Eventually, I knew this relationship would end, but what was a girl supposed to do when she loved him so much?

It was already midnight as I sat in the tenebrous living room with my feet tucked under my chin. The clock ticked clamorously as each tick indicated a second I wasted on waiting – waiting for a man who wouldn’t show up until later in the morning or not at all.

I tried to ignore the numerous tabloids and magazines which had featured his face and his galore of secret rendezvous with models and groupies at clubs. I attempted to reason his actions posted broadly on the front cover of People’s. Perhaps it was for publicity of his band, Avenged Sevenfold, or maybe to promote their newest single. But even those reasons couldn’t justify the pictures of bombshells lip-locked with his lips on the glossy pages of the gossip magazines.

But even though he came home smelling like cheap, acrid perfume and red lip stains smeared on his cheeks, I wanted to believe that he would stay faithful in at least one way: that he would always come back to me. It was stupid to turn a blind eye on his actions, but I couldn’t let go of him. I yearned for his touch, to be held in his toned, tattooed arms, to feel those breath-taking sparks and bittersweet chemistry. I was a woman in love with a rock-star and there was nothing I could do except pray and hope for him to return to me.

But reality wasn’t a sugar-coated donut. Here I was, still awake at midnight, drowning myself with Jack Daniel’s whiskey. This action, alone, explained my deteriorating relationship. Brian rarely came back home. And if he did, he would always be back after midnight. So I resolved to alcohol. Alcohol was supposed to be the key to forgetting all my troubles and pain, yet even my dose of honey amber liquid couldn’t burn away my heart’s pain.

“Ellie?”

I could hear the door open as his soothing, alluring voice echoed in the hallway. I tried to compose myself with each clump of his footsteps as I brushed the strands of my dark brown hair which clung on to my cheeks after the involuntary tears I shed. Wiping away stray tears which had somehow sneaked from the corner of my eyes, I croaked, “Brian.”

Brian Elwin Haner Jr. His name, itself, sounded handsome and sexy to say. I had fallen in love with his pale pink lips, which curved into smiles, frowns, and straight lines. It was those lips that tasted ambrosial like Marlboro and spearmint. But his lips weren’t the only feature I loved about him. His jet black hair was the softest hair I’d ever touched. I liked running my hand through his hair in the morning, when it wasn’t gelled into clomped spikes.

We had moved into his small mansion after dating for two years. It was slightly before Bat Country or any of Avenged Sevenfold's famous hit songs appeared numerously on MTV. But now that he had become "busy", it felt as though that this "small" mansion was only occupied by me. What once felt cozy and comfortable, felt empty and desolate. Most times, I felt lonely without Brian, although I would probably never bring the topic up.

“Ellie? You okay?”

Even without the light, I could see him: pale pink lips, gelled black hair, wisps of a goatee, and not to mention his multihued tattoos across his arms.

“El? You okay?” Brian repeated again as he grasped my hands gently into his own. He was guileful, always comforting me and showering me with care so that I couldn’t hate him for all my insecurities. There were so many times when I wanted to hate him: forgotten anniversaries, holidays, and news. But his words and his kind gestures made me weak on my knees.

“Yeah,” I lied as I managed to stand up from my seat with his help. My feet danced clumsily on the wooden floor, threatening to give out under my weight.

“Baby… you sure,” he asked softly as his hands firmly gripped my arms to keep me steady and straight on my feet.

“I’m sure,” I giggled, nodding my head like a child confiding her parent. But I was too tired and too drunk as I tripped over my feet and face-planted into Brian’s chest.

There it was that miserable stench.

My mind raced with questions – questions that I wanted to ask, but didn’t have the nerve to ask. I was a coward. I was afraid. I was afraid to know his feelings, his deeds, and his actions outside this house, my safety haven.

“I love you,” I mumbled out instead of inquiring him.

Brian’s body stiffened, but I choose to ignore it as he whispered back lies.

“I love you, too.”

I nodded, pulling him toward our bedroom. Though I should have confronted him, I chose to stay oblivious to our disintegrating romance. Because I loved him too much to lose him. Because I was stupid for him.