How Does One Stop The Guilt?

Selfishness is one of the qualities apt to inspire love.

Nathaniel Hawthorne

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he stumbled to the middle of the darkroom, with each wavering step her stomach clenching and aching all the more. She swallowed, yet her throat tightened, no matter what she could not stop the warm feeling that rose up through her chest, like molten gold. She tasted it at the far back of her mouth, bitter and foul. She buckled over. A warm, sour liquid spilled from her mouth, splashing over the woven carpet on the floor.

The pain had an unpleasant warmth to it, eating at the walls of her stomach. The nausea was ever constant, so strong she had to hold onto something for support. She'd often prized herself in ignoring the pain, but that wasn't possible anymore, the pain had reached higher peaks. It owned her, dominated every feeling, it was her lot in life, it was her own burden to bare.

She sat down at her vanity and gazed at her sullen reflection. Her once cherry plum lips faded into a lifeless tone. She felt listless and numb. Her eyes blurred from staring at herself for too long. In the background of her periphery, a figure stalked in the back. Her gaze turned to it, she silently admired the beauty of it, combed hair and tight shirt that outlined his masculinity. She wondered where he was going so late in the night but at this point, she ceased to care, if he wanted to leave and mingle with his mistress then who was she to stop a man from seeing his new lover?

She looked at him once again and sighed, his figure came closer. She locked eyes with him through the mirror and gently smiled. Pretend. She chanted. He looked stressed and she did not wish to add on to his stress.

She turned around to face him as he got closer. "Where are you off to?" She asked, silently hoping that he would change his mind and stay with her for the night.

"I'm meeting up with an old friend, Alex if you remember him. The one with a club foot. Well, I was hoping you could come with me" He said, kneeling to her height.

Alex was a great guy, perhaps even one of the best. She had met him but twice yet she knew a lot about him. She wished to go but she feared she was too weak to do so. "I'm sorry, John but I'm just not up for it tonight" She grabbed hold of his warm hand and cupped it in her cold ones.

He fell silent, Diana could feel the frustration radiating from him, she had seen him annoyed, many times she had, but this time it seemed worse. His temper had seemed to dwindle with each passing day, sometimes having little to no patience when it came to small matters or issues. She knew why he was vexed yet she still dared ask, "Are you annoyed?"

"Yes, I'm annoyed. I'm trying to help you and you hide. Staying home all day isn't good for you, Diana! I've been patient with you for so long. Did what you asked but for once when I ask something of you, you hide" She could hear the angry undertone that reverberated from his voice, his eyes stared hard as his jaw ticked. He pulled his hand away from her grasp and stood up. She slightly winced, she knew that his anger and annoyance were love in disguise but still his curt voice bruised her.

Johnathan was fed up with her behavior, it was during times like these that he found his comfort in Samantha. Diana has been hard to manage as of late, it was the way she kept to herself that bothered him. She wasn't like that, he can remember a time when she was the outgoing one who pestered him about going out all the time and it seemed that the sadness and confusion that were suppressed within him for so long came out in waves of anger and in these infrequent failures to suppress his rage, he tore into her like only a lover can. He knew her weak spots and deepest pains. He watched her face change to hurt and it only served to bring his own fury to a higher boil, "God, arguing with you is so pointless because your retort is based on your stupid emotions rather than the quality or intention of my response". In his rage, he was blind to her, to the delicate petals of her heart and soul. He assumed that he was right when he had no real reason to.

Their heated quarrel continued. It was a war of words and he was the triumphant warlord.

All Diana did was take it in, she remained as still as a statue and just as pallid, unblinking against his onslaught. she knew he'd been bottling up his emotions for a while now and it was about time he exploded. She knew that when tension was high she should inject love instead of anger so she apologized, "I know I'm sorry, Johnathan" She meekly said even though she had no reason to.

"You're always sorry" He scoffed, the sneer in his voice extending to his eyes as he walked out with a raging stride. He knew he shouldn't stay any longer or he will say something he will regret. That way the pain would last longer, but at least the cut wouldn't be so deep.

She always paid attention to what people said out of anger because they were probably dying to say it. It didn't take long for her tears to slowly cascaded down her cheeks. She did not blame him, he did not know. She only blamed herself for not having the strength to be with him in times where he needs her to be. She knew people acted on impulse when they were angry or sad so she put to death those insults he spoke and with a dull beating heart, and damp red eyes, she took her pink notebook out and let her heart guide the pen for the very last time.

November 2nd, 2017

Silence is painful. When we sat down and couldn't hear a noise, I didn't want that. That maddening distant ticking of the clock that hangs on the far side of the room, and the beating of my pulse against my skin. It makes me want to beg to God to give me sound, any form of it, a buzzing pandemonium would be heaven in this deathly silence. That look on Johnathan's face, it muted the room. It was ear-splitting, my ears almost popped and my drums wanted to burst.

I just hope he can forgive me.

I can feel the coldness of the floor eating at the flesh of my feet. I hate being alone in this frightening darkness. Our room scares me, it's filled with emptiness, I've spent more time in it alone than together with him.

The pain reached higher pecks. The pain isn't sharp like needlepoint or a knife, it burns around my innards like boiling water. Everything feels scolded and sore. I'm in more pain than I could have ever imagined was possible. A bullet would be mercy right now.

At this point, I'm not sure I can make it till tomorrow.

-Diana