I'm a Bad Bad Person (Baby I Know)

Well, maybe I'm a crook for stealing your heart away
Yeah, maybe I'm a crook for not caring for it
Yeah, maybe I'm a bad, bad, bad, bad person
Well, baby, I know.

It isn’t your fault.
Please, no matter what, please don’t ever think it is your fault.

I could love you. Sometimes I wish I did. You are everything I dreamed about when I was little- a reckless grin, lips blossoming in mirth, laughter as deep and transformative as a river. You are a tiger, lithe grace and measured strength. You are fierce in anger. You are fiercer in love.

And oh, God, how I wish I could be yours.

It’s the fear that stops me, traps me, throws me to the ground before your feet. It stops my heart. It cages me. I cannot breathe, cannot think, cannot love.

I can’t give someone that much power. If I love you, you can break me. No matter how often I try to tell myself that isn’t the case, it’s what happens. You’ll find someone better. You’ll realize you don’t love me. And if I let myself love you, it will shatter my heart, my soul, into a billion unrecognizable pieces that will never be put back together again.

Please, darling, forgive me for what I am about to do to you. It is for the best. I can’t handicap you any longer.

Forgive me, I beg of you, though I am not worth it.
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'Cause you love, love, love
When you know I can't love
You love, love, love
When you know I can't love
You love, love, love
When you know I can't love you

I am waiting for her when she comes home, hair ruffled in the wind and marker sketches on her dress. She laughs when I trace them questioningly, shaking her head. “They love me too much, babe. I can’t keep them from drawing on me.”

“It’s your own fault.” I rub my fingers along the dark lines, down over her thighs, unable to keep from smiling. “You let them run wild and free. Misses Ellie.” She pouts at my teasing. “You’ll ruin those kindergartners.”

“Just like I ruined you?” she leans in for a kiss before running to the bedroom, calling “I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” over her shoulder.

Oh, darling, I think. You are the closest anyone’s ever gotten to fixing me.
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Philophobia.

That’s the word I discover the next day at work, when I’m supposed to be writing an article on new methods of cancer treatment. The fear of falling in love. The word sits just right in my mouth, tight and painful.

When I come home, she kisses the word off my lips, and I tell myself it’s nothing.
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“Is something wrong?” She asks at dinner. “You’re quiet.” Her eyes search mine, dark with concern.
I start to shake my head, stop, and drop my fork, a lie falling off my tongue. “It’s just… cancer, you know? It isn’t fair. The girl from my article, she was five years old, she was too young to die-”

Elle jumps out of the chair and over to me as I begin to sob. “Hey, now.” She whispers, pulling me close. “I know babe. It isn’t fair.”

“Sometimes I wonder if the world is made out of pain.” I whisper into her shoulder. “We are born in pain, grow in pain, love in pain, die in pain.”

“Look at me.” She says. I do. “You see this?” She holds up her hand, fingers entwined with mine. “This is good. We are good. The world is good. I know it’s hard to see sometimes, but it’s there.”

I let myself believe her.
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We spend the night in a tangle of limbs. Her heartbeat echoes in my chest, fingers caressing my side. Everything about her is warmth. It burns sometimes, so hot that my veins carry smoldering embers into my fingertips and light me from within.

“I love you.” She breathes into my neck.

I say nothing and pretend I’m asleep.
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I can’t sleep for weeks after. I want to love her so badly, want to give in. I can’t. I just can’t. The fear is too great.
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One night Elle comes storming in, heels clicking lightning on the tiles of the kitchen floor. “They won’t leave us the fuck alone!” She screams at ceiling, punching the wall. I fall with her as she slides to the floor. “Someone painted faggot on the car window.” She tells me as her breathing evens. “How dare they? How dare they think they get to define love? That it’s only right if it fits their rules? That because we both have a vagina, our love is less pure?” Elle sighs, leaning into my embrace. “And the kids saw it too. They shouldn’t have that shit thrown at them yet.”

“We’ll fight them.” I promise. “Not with our fists, but our words. We’ll show them that they don’t own love. They mistake ignorance for wisdom, and hate for love. They chain us and beat us and throw their insults, but we’ve got something they don’t. Truth. Truth that love isn’t sin. Someday, we’ll be free.”

She turns to me and nods tearfully. “Free. I like that word.”

Someday, I think, I’ll gather up my courage and leave you like I know I should, and then you’ll be free.
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So I think it's best we both forget before we dwell on it
The way you held me so tight
All through the night
'Til it was near morning

I go on a Friday morning after Elle leaves for work. We’d spent the night fooling around, leaving me breathless and battered and glowing with her fire. I throw my stuff into a suitcase, leaving behind only wrinkled photos and a note in shaky handwriting.

Elle,
It isn’t your fault.
Please, no matter what, please don’t ever think it was your fault.

You are more than I could ever deserve. I can’t keep on like this, knowing I’ll only cause you more pain. You have been the best of my life. I want to love you, I truly do.

But I am so afraid. I am weak. I can’t beat this, no matter how hard I try. I am too afraid to fall in love. You are the closest I have ever come. You were my perfect dream, and more perfect reality.
That is why I must leave.

Please, darling, forgive me for what I am about to do to you. It is for the best. I can’t handicap you any longer.

Forgive me, I beg of you, though I am not worth it.
Yours until you choose to forget (and I hope you do),
Lara
I leave because I cannot allow myself to love you, but the truth is, it is far too late for that. I have loved you every moment for the past two years.

I cross out the last two lines, streaks of black ink staining my face from clumsy attempts at wiping away tears, and leave.
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I find the obituary in the newspaper three years later. A coworker taps me on the shoulder, whispers “Lara, there’s something you need to see.” He leads me to the papers hot off the press, waves of heat rolling off the sheets as I spot her name.

Clayborne, Elle, 24.
A beloved teacher and friend, called Ms. Ellie by her students, passed away Friday after a three year long battle with breast cancer…
I don’t remember much that day, just the blank numbness of shock and my coworker’s arms dragging me away.

I go to her funeral. I hate it.

Death wasn’t made for people like her. She was too young to die.
Then again, death always comes a little too soon for the survivors, doesn’t it?
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I visit her grave every day, and receive her letter two weeks later.

Lara,
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the cancer. I found out a few weeks before you left, but I didn’t want to burden you. It wouldn’t have made much of a difference, anyway.

I read your letter. All of it. You were always horrible at hiding things, you know. I know you love me. I am so, so sorry I didn’t realize what was going on. Perhaps I could have helped you. I would have tried.

I love you so much, Lara. You leaving changed none of that. You were doing what you thought was best for me. That means so much to me, no matter all the pain.

I’m not going to live much longer. The doctors told me today that I have maybe a week. I’ve arranged for this letter to be sent to you after my death.

I don’t know how to put into words how much you mean to me. I love you so, so, so much dear and I- I know it sounds so corny, this whole thing, but I always will love you. It’s alright. Everything is alright. I love you. I forgive you. You are my everything. You are the best of my life. My perfect dream, and my more perfect reality.

I love you. I’m sorry I’m leaving. I wish I didn’t have to. I suppose we all leave at one point or another, but the important thing is leaving for love, in love. I am leaving you soon, but I won’t truly, you know that. Fuck all of the homophobes, I’ll be in Heaven with my arms held wide, waiting for you.
Just don’t come anytime soon, babe.
I love you. I know I’ve said that a million times, but please remember it. I love you.
Yours forever,
Elle
P.S. Go out and get yourself a hot new girl if you want. The more loves, the merrier.
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I am so afraid of falling in love.
Perhaps that’s why I didn’t realize how far I had fallen until it was too late.