*Once
we were lovers
Yes, lovers we were
Oh...what a lie.
Once we were dreamers
Yes, dreamers we were
Oh...you and I.
"Alex, you don't mean it."
"Don't make this any harder." He held
his gaze, staring through her. She stepped back a bit, unsettled by his
icy stare.
"But--"
"Just leave, Mariah."
"Alex--"
"I mean it."
"I--"
"Did you hear what I said?"
Mariah opened her mouth to speak
again, but words failed to come. She had already tried crying, but her
crocodile tears no longer melted his heart. She looked imploringly at
him for comfort...For once, her act hadn't worked. Nothing seemed to
work anymore.
They
didn't work anymore.
No more empty promises. No more
ignoring their problems. Nothing could patch this up now.
"Since you don't seem to be moving,
I'm leaving." His eyes glanced at the clock: midnight. The pain was
still as strong as it was an hour ago. But having passed through shock,
anger, and numbness, his mind was finally calm with its new resolution.
"When I get back, there should be nothing left of you." Alex headed for
the door as he spoke, half wondering what had come over him...He was
finally facing it.
Mariah stood dumbfounded as the door
slammed after his figure left the vicinity. She turned her head and
noticed Alex's cat sitting a few feet away, glaring at her. Her eyes
fell upon a broken frame that lay beside the couch in the living room.
Shredded pieces of what used to be a photograph surrounded the
shattered glass. She leaned against the wood behind her and slowly slid
to the floor.
All the lies came flooding back,
wailing in her ears.
Ten thousand shattered promises
encircled her.
She had broken them.
She had lost him.
It was over.
Now I see you're just somebody who wastes
all my time...
What a lie...
You and I.
He grabbed the remote control
with his free hand and took a sip of his soda. He heard a faint meow
and glanced over as Smirnoff leapt up onto the couch beside him, having
finished her dinner. Alex scratched the cat's head and allowed her to
settle into his lap. The lights from the TV flickered on both of them,
but he took no notice. He was no longer angry, just numb. He could
barely taste the carbonated drink when he sipped it. He could barely
sense the sounds that came from the TV. He could barely even think. He
passed countless news shows that told him it was quarter till midnight.
It didn't phase his that he was supposed to get up early for a meeting
tomorrow. Nothing mattered now. He hit the channel button out of habit,
but didn't even stop to watch his favorite shows. Time crept along.
He
thought of the tiny velvet box that sat in the drawer in his
nightstand. It had been sitting there for almost a year. The box was
lightly blanketed with dust, protecting its precious contents. But that
didn't matter anymore. Things kept getting in the way; he had never had
the perfect time or reason to bring it out. Now he knew it was of no
use to him. It would never see the sun. At least not with Mariah.
Minutes,
though seemingly hours later, his eyes were scanning the room...They
rested on his stereo, filled with her CD's. His dining table with her
table cloth. His kitchen thoroughly organized by her hands. Her empty
container of orange juice. His gaze even reached the hallway...the door
to the bedroom...his bed, her sheets. The bathroom...His sink with her
toothbrush. Her hairbrush. Her makeup...
His
wandering gaze came to a halt when his eyes fell upon a picture frame
that sat mockingly on the table beside the wall. She had placed it
there, wanting to proudly display the "perfect" Kodak Moment. It had
never moved, though various vases and other trinkets had come and
gone. Alex tried to convince himself that he didn't need to look
at it, but his mind lost the battle against his legs. Smirnoff meowed
at
him in protest as his hands rudely brushed her off of his lap. In one
mechanical motion, he found himself standing, walking towards the
frame. He picked it up carefully, studying what it held.
Nothing.
In
reality, it held a picture of them, but now that was nothing
It
held the promises. The dreams. The happiness...
Truly
nothing.
Alex
carefully slid the picture out of the frame and studied it for a
moment. He let the frame drop from his hands, but kept hold of the
picture. The wood and glass crashed, splintering, breaking, into pieces
at his feet. He closed his eyes and ripped the picture in two...then
four...then eight... Smiles split. The embrace torn. Happiness gone.
Lies everlasting...He opened his eyes and stared at what he held in his
hands.
Nothing.
He
opened his fingers and watched the fragments flutter freely to the
ground.
Once I could handle the truth
When the truth was...
You and I.
But time after time
All the promises turned out...
To be all lies.
Alex
stormed into his apartment, slamming the door. He cursed under his
breath as he tripped over the brown and gray cat that had appeared to
greet him, and made his way to the kitchen. He grumbled, rummaging
through the cupboards, having forgotten, in his anger, where the cat
food was kept. It finally dawned on him to look in the pantry; Mariah
had moved the cat food cans there only a few days ago. He seized a can
in one hand and an opener in the other. The feline jumped up onto the
counter in front of him, standing beside her bowl and whining. It was
11:30 and he was four hours late with her dinner.
"Just
wait, Smir," the hard, cold voice that he had used only minutes ago
softened, his eyes looking at the fur-ball as she rubbed up next to his
shoulder, purring. At least she
still cared about him.
Alex
sighed and headed for the fridge. His eyes vacantly scanned the
shelves, registering the presence of milk, eggs, and whatever other
items it held...mostly Mariah's food. His right arm reached out, its
hand involuntarily grabbing a soda. He didn't really want sugar and
bubbles at the moment, but she had finished the orange juice that
morning. She was supposed to pick some up that night before they met
for dinner. She'd promised.
He
shook his head and walked into the living room. It kept playing over
and over in his mind. The sour image, the scene that he had been a part
of, not so long ago, kept playing out in his head. Over. And over. And
over. It was driving him mad.
He
had been such a fool.
Now
I see I'm just somebody who wasted my time...
What a lie...
You and I.
"Alex!
What are you doing here?" Her eyes met his, startled by his presence.
"Getting
coffee. What else would I be doing?" Mariah stole a glance at the man
sitting beside her. Alex noticed that their hands were entwined; she
hadn't even bothered to take her hand from Eric's when Alex showed up.
"I was no longer hungry for dinner," he added pointedly. Her eyes flew
to the clock on the wall. It was 11:15 and she was still with Eric. She
closed her eyes for a brief moment; she felt the overwhelming weight of
months upon months of lies and broken promises descend upon her
shoulders within that instant.
"I-I,
um, I know I w-was supposed to meet you earlier," she stammered,
attempting to keep some composure. "...Something, uh, came up.
I'll...I'll just talk to you later, okay?" She tugged at Eric's hand as
the two rose from their booth, leaving their coffees unfinished, their
desserts half eaten. Alex silently stepped back to let them pass, not
looking her in the eye. "Later," she whispered, as the two walked by
Alex's stiff form, "I promise."
Later.
For
once, he was no longer interested in what she had to say "later."
What about your,
Your 10,000 promises
That you gave to me?
Your 10,000 promises
That you promised me?
Alex
glanced at his watch for what seemed to be the billionth time that
night. It was almost 11 PM. She was well over an hour late. Yet he
still stood there, waiting. She couldn't have gotten lost; they had
dinner at this restaurant all the time. It was close to home. She knew
the way. She had promised she'd meet him by ten, at the latest. Where
was she? Alex sighed, assuming she'd had to work late. He had come
straight from a meeting with the Boys; he had even left a bit early to
be on time; maybe there was an unchecked message waiting on their
machine at home letting him know that she couldn't make it.
He
decided to head back to the apartment. He walked a block, turned the
corner, and passed by Café Samedi. He was past hunger but felt
like some warm coffee for the chilly evening. The cement was cold, but
the lights were bright and welcoming. He backtracked a few steps and
faced the entrance that lay a few feet ahead. The moonlight reflected
off the café's metallic sign and startled him; he was so used to
seeing the metal letters in the daytime, in the sun. Things look so
different when you see them at a new light, he thought.
He
opened the door, observing the small crowd that occupied the
café at such an hour.
His
soft observant gaze locked in place: he saw her.
Her
perfect emerald eyes. Her perfect Crest smile. Her perfect Pantene hair.
...Her
horrible traits. The lies. The deceit. The fake innocence.
He
saw it all.
He
saw them in a booth talking to
each other. Drinking their coffee. Having some important conversation.
Eating their damned dessert. Laughing. In their own world.
By
the looks of it, she had easily forgotten about him.
Had
two years really been wasted? At least he had tried.
And
now there she was, sitting with that man again. The man that she had
promised was "nothing." The man whose picture he had found a year ago
in her wallet. His number on her cell phone. His voice on their message
machine. The man at whom she was presently smiling.
All
lies.
She
didn't care. She really didn't care.
So
what? If she didn't care anymore, then neither did he. He didn't want
to be the only one trying to save whatever they had had.
He
had once promised himself that he would do anything in his power to
save this relationship.
It
was his turn to break a promise.
It
was over.
You
said..."I'll take you back"
But I closed the door,
'Cause I don't want...10,000 more.
___________________________________________________________
*lyrics from the song "10,000 Promises" written by Max Martin
.My.Stories.
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