‹ Prequel: Notes on Heartbreak
Status: This is not so much a story as it is a personal journal. Although one day I hope to look back at it as a story of my life.

Everything After

It was Probably Nothing but it Felt Like the World

I always had a hard time saying no to you.
I'd often stay up, knowing I'd regret the late night in the early morning, just to talk to you longer.
I'd fall, a helpless victim, standing no chance as you so effortlessly spread kisses across my neck, my cheeks, my arms, until I surrendered myself to you completely.
When you came back from the ashes of our relationship, asking me to compromise, to be with you in a way I knew I would regret, I couldn't find it in me to say no.
With every message you sent me, I utterly failed at ignoring you, at mentally saying 'no' and 'stop'.
As I finally grew used to not seeing you, a simple glimpse of your lanky legs or disheveled hair from a distance was enough to draw me in. I couldn't say no, couldn't stop myself from wanting to just be near you.
And when, after a whole year, you asked me to sleep in your bed with you again, to stay the night in the house I once went every weekend, I couldn't say no.
How is that you can know something is bad yet every ounce of your being and every fiber of your body is incapable of turning away from it?
How can you want to so desperately say no to something, yet at the same time know that you will never respond anything but yes?
And so I said yes to you once again.
And I said yes as I shamelessly tried to be around you that night. As I sat next to you and tried to subtly grab your attention, for our eyes to connect and our mouthes to smile knowingly.
And I said yes as my friends ushered me into your car, an obviously rash decision, yet everyone on that dimly lit street knew I could not decline the offer.
And I said yes as I slipped out my basement door into the night, barefoot, finding the car I never knew you drove and slipping into the passenger seat that I had never been in before.
And I said yes when you asked if I had a good freshman year, even though half of it was spent trying to fall desperately out of love with the person across from me.
And I said yes when you asked if we should go in your basement, when you asked if I wanted to watch a movie, nodded when you said how 'ironic' it was that I had ended up back here.
And I said yes as you slowly moved your head towards mine, our lips meeting with such familiarity it made my stomach sick.
And I said yes when you asked if I wanted to go to bed. As we slipped under sheets and your hands found me and I could feel your skin again and my fingers found their old place laced in the locks of your hair.
And I soundlessly breathed yes as we fell asleep, your arms around me- so safe and so old and so familiar.
And as I softly connected the freckles on your back that next morning, my favorite constellation, I realized I would always say yes to you.
Even as you asked if I needed to get home, to continue my day- my life, I said yes. I said yes although I knew the moment would soon be over, that I never wanted it to be over.
I said yes over and over knowing that the result would be instant gratification but prolonged sadness.
But that yes, that instant moment of knowing that I can have it all again just for a second, that I can have what I truly want and I can even pretend it will last forever, that yes is so worth it.
And I realize that's how the alcoholic must feel when they accept a glass of their kryptonite, the junkie as they are hooked up to their demise.
Because the long term results are destructive and toxic, yes this is true and I'm well aware of what I have agreed to by muttering yes. But in that moment there is no other option.
You are my weakness. I will never not say yes.