The beer bottle rolled from one end of the table to the next, leaving a trail of carbonated amber leftovers where it stopped. Smoke tumbled from the glass ashtray next to the glass bottle, and her heart silently shattered like glass, too.
She whispered through tears over the roaring TV and his labored breaths, “come closer.” The air moving in his lungs was tainted with that God-awful acrid smell.
“Do you like me?” His question seemed irrelevant, but when she looked into his eyes she saw something brutally honest. She saw a flash of fear; something he never would have let be seen if he were sober.
“Don’t be an idiot and just come closer.” His hand fell on her head and he kissed her cheek and wondered who in God’s name could have made her heart hurt so damn much.
Your lips and touch are fertile, for they have grown me so kind that flowers grow inside my lungs, and God I can’t breathe.
“But you’re always smiling; I don’t get it.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m happy, love, it just means I’m living.”
I try so hard to forget.
I try to forget how your lips felt on mine, slimy and with only with drunk passion; your breath of alcohol and desperation. I try to forget your hands on my waist gripping me closer, and I try to forget how your hands felt wrapped in my hair because I never wanted them there to begin with. I try to forget your hands pushing on my head towards the floor and the words that slithered out of your mouth like your tongue sliding into mine. But no matter how hard I try I can’t forget the fear. I try to forget the push of the sharp counter on my back and the cold cement on my knees. I try to forget you. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t forget how you made me feel so out of control of my own body. And ever since that night I haven’t felt in control of anything. I was a person who had trust in everyone and you took that away from me, and I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that even though I forgave you for what you did. I just want to feel like my life is not spiraling down to a pit of nothing because this summer is moving as fast as your hands sliding down my pants before I could stop them. I try to forget, but I can’t make it go away. It was your fault, no matter how much you made it feel like it was mine.