Silver Springs
you SEE the end
“So there. That’s it.”
We stood at opposite sides of the room. His head was lowered; chin down on his collarbone and a hand in his dark hair.
I felt tears dribble down my cheeks as we both tried not to look at our divided belongings. The room was split in two. My stuff and his stuff. The boxes were marked. Mamie. Gunnar. It was done.
I could feel my resolve starting to wane. Oh God. Please take it all back. Please just take it back and we can unpack our stuff. Please, I thought wildly. Gunnar finally lifted his head, pushed his hair away from his face and pursed his lips into a resolute line. I knew he would not budge. We had said we wouldn’t take it back. Even if we begged.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he added. His voice was gruff. I knew he was angry. And I was sad. Things never changed, even when you were breaking up.
“Mm,” I sighed and forced my tears to stop. It resulted in a loud and embarrassing hiccup.
“Don’t fucking do that. Don’t,” he seethed, “You’re the one who started this. Now we both have to finish it.”
My tears evaporated at his rage and I nodded. “Thanks for reminding me why we’re doing this,” I whispered. The doorbell rang and I knew my mother was downstairs with my stepdad’s pickup. She was taking me home. Home. Without him.
Gunnar grabbed my hand as I walked by him to get to buzzer. I could hear my mom’s voice sounding through the speakers, “Mary Lou! Open up! I’ve come to rescue you!” she sang. He winced at her words, but still managed to pull me closer into an embrace.
We dug our nails into each other’s skin because we hugged each other so tight. I tried to extricate myself from his strong arms, struggling against his grip. He finally just let me go with a groan and repeatedly said, “You’re right. You’re right. We have to do this.”
He kept saying this over and over again as he grabbed his keys and walked out of the apartment and through the back door of our building. I watched through the window. He stepped across the black concrete parking lot, smoking a cigarette and pacing back and forth until he seemed to square his shoulders and make his way onto the street. He turned a corner and then he was gone.
“Yoohoo. Mary Lou! I’m here, buzz me in! For crying out loud!”
Her voice interrupted my thoughts and I numbly reached over and pressed the button that let her in.
“There. It’s done,” I whispered aloud.
We stood at opposite sides of the room. His head was lowered; chin down on his collarbone and a hand in his dark hair.
I felt tears dribble down my cheeks as we both tried not to look at our divided belongings. The room was split in two. My stuff and his stuff. The boxes were marked. Mamie. Gunnar. It was done.
I could feel my resolve starting to wane. Oh God. Please take it all back. Please just take it back and we can unpack our stuff. Please, I thought wildly. Gunnar finally lifted his head, pushed his hair away from his face and pursed his lips into a resolute line. I knew he would not budge. We had said we wouldn’t take it back. Even if we begged.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he added. His voice was gruff. I knew he was angry. And I was sad. Things never changed, even when you were breaking up.
“Mm,” I sighed and forced my tears to stop. It resulted in a loud and embarrassing hiccup.
“Don’t fucking do that. Don’t,” he seethed, “You’re the one who started this. Now we both have to finish it.”
My tears evaporated at his rage and I nodded. “Thanks for reminding me why we’re doing this,” I whispered. The doorbell rang and I knew my mother was downstairs with my stepdad’s pickup. She was taking me home. Home. Without him.
Gunnar grabbed my hand as I walked by him to get to buzzer. I could hear my mom’s voice sounding through the speakers, “Mary Lou! Open up! I’ve come to rescue you!” she sang. He winced at her words, but still managed to pull me closer into an embrace.
We dug our nails into each other’s skin because we hugged each other so tight. I tried to extricate myself from his strong arms, struggling against his grip. He finally just let me go with a groan and repeatedly said, “You’re right. You’re right. We have to do this.”
He kept saying this over and over again as he grabbed his keys and walked out of the apartment and through the back door of our building. I watched through the window. He stepped across the black concrete parking lot, smoking a cigarette and pacing back and forth until he seemed to square his shoulders and make his way onto the street. He turned a corner and then he was gone.
“Yoohoo. Mary Lou! I’m here, buzz me in! For crying out loud!”
Her voice interrupted my thoughts and I numbly reached over and pressed the button that let her in.
“There. It’s done,” I whispered aloud.
♠ ♠ ♠
"She is dancing away from you now. She was just a wish. She was just a wish."-Gardens and Villa (Fleetwood Mac Cover)
i haven't been this happy to write in a very long time.