It had been several hours and I was aware that Mykel was no longer in the room with us. I do not know when he slipped silently out, but I hadn't felt his presence in some time.
Since Liz burst into the room and I grabbed hold of her for dear life, time had been spent alternately calming me down and Liz babbling about nothing softly against my ear. I didn't speak as she asked questions in the midst of her tellings. I knew she wasn't expecting an answer as she continued speaking as if I was every bit of the conversation as she. She ran her fingers through my hair and over my back and arms; every now and then running her thumb or knuckles across my cheeks, soaking up the tears that hastily caught gravity's power to slide down my face.
As the shock of the day began to wear off, my mind began conjuring reasons and moving pictures playing out scenes of a final destruction between him and me I. Still I clung to Liz, her shirt balled into my fists. At some point, I stopped shaking and slowly began to relax. He's really not going to want you now. Pathetic little whore. And just like that, that voice that had begun to recede slowly over the last several months was back in stereo and with it a fresh round of heavy lamenting.
"Baby, I wish you'd talk to me," Liz whispered as she held me closer. "Let me help you, Mattie."
"I'm never going to escape them, Liz. I'm never going to get rid of my mother's voice, her taunting me on every insecurity I have." My face remained hidden. I wanted Mykel so badly at that moment, for him to take me in his arms. But I hadn't seen him in hours and was terrified to ask after him. "I'm such a fucking mess, Liz. I keep fucking up. I keep pushing him away when all I want is to just be in his arms." As I said this I felt the bed dip down behind me and a large, heavy hand placed softly against my back. As a kiss landed just behind my ear he snaked his arm around me. "I'm right here, mon bonheur. I was never far, baby."
In an instant I flipped over, latching onto him with arms and legs alike as my crying increased with silent jeremiad that caused Mykel to pull me tighter against him. Through my ululating, I began a tangent of self-degradation and profuse self-effacing supplication. I begged him not to hate me. Not to leave me. I begged forgiveness for attacking him, for my reactions in general. I clutched and clung to him, my words so run together and muddled that even I knew they were incomprehensible.
Mykel didn't attempt to stop this but held me while the emotions continued to flood my brain and soak his shirt. This is the reaction I had always expected when I saw my parents for the first time after running away. But her betrayal far outweighed theirs in my eyes and seeing her there so unexpectedly knocked me backward in time and all at once everything came rushing back. "I was punished for her running away," I said after I'd calmed sufficiently enough to speak. "They beat me. They held me under the water. They starved me. Why didn't she take me with her?"
"Can I give you my opinion?" Mykel asked in obvious hesitation.
"Yes."
"When you're more prepared for it...I think you should listen to what she has to say. She did try and get you out, baby."
I shook my head. "She left me. She left me. She always said she'd never leave me. And she did." My fist pounded once uselessly against his solid chest.
"I know, baby, I know." He didn't want me getting too excited again. He kissed my forehead softly, lightly shushing me in a calming form, his fingers splayed against my back as his hand traveled the length of it.
"Y-you talked to her?" I asked quietly.
"Mhm. We talked a bit." I moved closer to him, seeking his warmth, his safety, him. He tightened his grip that much more. "I'm right here, mon bonheur."
"I'm sorry I freaked out on you." My voice broke and I squeezed my eyes shut. I took a shaky breath and bit my lip, hard, in an attempt to keep myself from completely being overcome with overwhelming emotion. "Where did you go? When Liz came in..."
He sighed deeply, controlled and slow. He pointed with his chin to the corner of the room. "Right over there."
I looked where he indicated. "You didn't leave the room?"
He shook his head. "No, Mattie. I didn't want to leave you." I pulled myself against him once more, clinging and grappling with my sanity.
"I don't mean to be such a mess, Mykel. I'm sorry you have to put up with this all the time. I'm sorry I'm so fucked up. Don't leave me, Mykel, please. I love you and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I yelled at you and said those things. Don't be mad, please." I was becoming hysterical and my words were running together like mixed paint as my panic increased. I knew he was mad by what I'd said to him. I knew that I'd pay for it later. I'd get my medicine. But it never came. It never has come. He's never raised a hand against me.
"Baby, baby, hey. I'm not mad." He set his hands to either side of my face, gently causing me to meet his eye. "I'm not mad, Mattie." He thumbed away any fallen tears as he softly shook his head. "I'm not mad. Just the opposite, really."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
He smiled. He smiled to keep from crying as I later discovered. "Because. I was stupid. I knew you were upset. I should have known to broach that topic with you once the initial shock wore off. I'm really just...upset with myself, mon bonheur. Because I likely could have calmed you down to begin with...and skipped...all of this..." he gestured all of this with a wave of his hand, "but I didn't and I'm really sorry for hurting you." By this time he'd reclaimed my hands in his and he kissed my knuckles softly. "I am sorry."
I nodded slightly with a nervous smile. "I am, too. I should learn to control myself better than I do...not freak out over every little thing." There was contempt in my tone, my brow forming a frown, my eyes falling away from his face.
"Mattie, let me ask you something." He paused until I made eye contact again. "Have you ever really dealt with your past?" I knew he knew what that answer was and I told him what he knew he'd hear. A whispered no. "Exactly, love. You've got all this rage and fear and hatred, for yourself, for them, running through your veins and it's toxic, my love. You keep yourself under pretty good control until something triggers you...but if you haven't learned to cope with what happened baby, how do you expect to move on with it?"
I knew he was right. He usually is. I shrugged slightly feeling my eyes water again. "You can't. You've made a lot of progress in a short amount of time, Mattie, my love, but it's still eating away at you. And eventually, you'll have to learn to cope or be destroyed by your past. I don't want that to happen to you, baby." He touched his fingertips to my cheeks, his fingers coming away moist.
"What if it already has?"
He smiled again, sadly. "It hasn't, baby. I know it hasn't. No matter how much it may feel like it sometimes."
"How do you know?" My voice was hoarse with emotion and tears.
"Because," his voice faltered and he closed his eyes, his dirge captured by gravity and falling onto the top of his hand, "because you're still here, Mattie." He opened his eyes then, shining and sad. I knew instantly to whom and what he was referring to; my voice was stuck in my throat.
"I'm sorry," I told him as my gaze shifted down to our hands. But even as his lips slightly upturned and told me it was alright, I knew it wasn't. He didn't know what I was apologizing for and I didn't explain further.
It was the next morning, Saturday, and I found myself on the back porch, alone, watching the sunrise. I found myself entrapped within nightmares as I slept, waking in cold sweats, screams jammed in my throat, tears streaming down my face. My heart pounded in my chest upon each awakening, images of my past flashing across the forefront of my brain in living color. The echo's of my childhood self, my sister, screaming in full stereo, deafening in its intensity. I sipped my coffee, steaming and hot against my face. I heard the backdoor open and knew it was Mykel. I braced myself against what I knew to be coming. I would have to tell him. I wouldn't be able to hide it forever. I just thought that I'd have more time to prepare than I did. He sat down with a small, unsure smile cast my direction, and like he'd done a thousand times before and a million times after, ran his palm up my thigh and affectionately squeezed. Pain seared through my leg as an agonized cry tore from my chest. Mykel ripped his hand away as if it had been burned, concern marring his beautiful features, his honey-wheat eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't quite comprehend at that time. His eyes watered as he looked at me in betrayal. He knew. He knew and I hadn't uttered a word.
"Mattie..." his eyes closed and he took a deep breath. "What did you do?" I didn't answer him. I didn't meet his eyes. "Mattie, please answer me." There was no anger behind his tone, in his posture. I took a shaky breath but I didn't say a word. I couldn't. "Did..." he paused, bracing himself for the question he was about to ask and the answer he would receive in turn. "Mattie, did you, uh, did you cut yourself?" The grief and guilt that had begun to gather in my eyes spilled down my face and that was all the answer he needed. He nodded his head slightly, his hands tightly knotted together as he talked himself into remaining in control. He let out a held breath. It quivered upon its exodus. "How bad, Mattie?" He still didn't sound the least bit angry. Aside from that, I couldn't place how or what he was feeling.
"Not-not too bad," I said, my voice filled with every ounce of shame I felt.
"Will..." he sighed, chuckling to himself, then, "deja vu all over again." He covered his face with that remark before looking at me. "Will you show me? I won't get mad. I'm not mad. Please, Mattie." Several silent sobs racked through my body as I pulled the waist of my pajama pants down to expose what I had done to my thighs. "Oh, baby..." I don't know if he was talking to himself or me. I honestly didn't know who he was seeing at that instant. He began to reach out toward the reddened and swollen slices along my upper legs but stopped short, and dropped his hand heavily back into his lap.
He stood slowly, reaching out for my hand. I flinched away like a kicked dog on the streets. He knelt in front of me, his voice soft if not a bit choppy, his hands resting along my knees. "I would never hit you, my love. Not for any excuse." He sighed again. "But these need to be cleaned. So let's go get you cleaned up, alright." When he stood he brought me up with him and he hugged me fiercely. I felt a slight tremor vibrating through his body as he held onto me. Slowly he broke apart, his hands sliding down my arms, his right hand grabbing my left and gently he pulled me inside. Once in the guest bathroom downstairs, I pulled myself up onto the large, wide countertop while Mykel dug around for antiseptic supplies under the sink. He stood up with peroxide, gauze pads, antiseptic cream, and a pale face. Before climbing up on the counter I had shed myself of my pajama pants and stared sightlessly at my legs. I looked up when soft fingertips gathered along my cheeks with slight pressure to bring up my gaze. There were tears standing in his eyes. "I love you, Mattie."
I took a shuddering breath and broke my gaze. I couldn't stand to see the pain in his eyes. The pain I'd caused. The pain my actions forced him to remember. "I love you too, Mykel." I looked back up. "I'm sorry." He nodded and said nothing further as he began cleaning my self-inflicted wounds. There were twelve cuts altogether. Six per leg. They weren't extraordinarily deep, but they were deep enough they hurt like hell. He didn't say more as he concentrated on the task at hand. I watched his face as he worked. He was trying to hold himself together, trying to keep from falling apart at the possible implications of what I'd done. At the possibility of where this single action could take us and where it would once again leave him.
We were so consumed in thought and what was happening that we didn't hear the front door open. "Hey you two, what's-" She stopped talking as she came to the threshold of the bathroom. I didn't look at her directly but nevertheless saw the look on her face. She inhaled shakily as she saw what Mykel was doing. Wordlessly she came up beside me and ran her hand through my hair and down my back, stopping along the center of my spine. She drew me in slightly and kissed my temple, resting her forehead where her lips just vacated. "Baby, what did you do?" Liz asked quietly against my ear. I couldn't answer her. I bit down on my lip, sucking it between my teeth. Mykel finished bandaging my legs then put everything back under the sink. When he stood he leaned heavily against the counter, his head bowed between his bracing arms. He took a deep breath and straightened, stepped around Liz, and kissed me ever so softly on the lips. "I love you." It was a whisper on a breath then he stepped back away from me and left the room. When the back door shut behind him with the slightest echoing click I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. With the shaky exhale I brought up my eyes to look at Liz. She looked worried.
"Come on, my love. Let's go into the living room." I eased myself down and followed Liz to the couch. Walking didn't hurt as much as it did before. The bandages Mykel slipped around my legs kept it from rubbing against my pants. I sat down on the middle cushion and curled up around myself as best I could; which wasn't all that grand.
We sat for several minutes in silence, each stuck in our own contemplations before I finally mustered up the courage to speak. "I...I'm sorry, Liz." The apology was barley uttered and I wasn't sure if it had even traveled far enough to reach her ears.
"When? When did you do this, Mattie?" She paused thinking before she looked at me. "When you went to the bathroom." She closed her eyes for a moment. "How often does this happen?"
The gentleness of her voice made my throat close. "N-not often."
"Baby, how often?"
I took a shuddering breath. "S-since I've lived-lived h-here i-i-i-i-t's o-on-onl-l-ly happened th-three, three times." I knew by the look on her face that she knew which times I was referring to. "Are you mad at me?" My vision blurred and cleared in rapid motions as I posed this fearful inquiry. I had never seen her mad at me and it seemed she had an endless supply of patience. I had never wondered before that moment and never again since have I questioned that. While over the years we've had our quarrels, I never questioned her like I did that day.
"Mad? No. No baby, I'm not mad. Not at you. Worried and scared for you. Maybe a bit angry at myself for not noticing. I'm sorry I didn't notice, Mattie."
"Liz?" I toyed with my fingers too nervous to look at her.
"Hm?" She was watching my movements, noting every tick and twitch of my body. She combed her fingers through my hair to calm me, which to my chagrin wasn't working like it normally did.
"Do...do you know where Mykel went?"
She looked at me before answering. "I know where he likely went." I couldn't place the tone in her voice.
"You're not gonna tell me though." It was not a question but a statement of fact.
"Not right now, no." Her hand dropped from my hair and I immediately felt as if I was being pulled back into that little closet I'd so been encased in for most of my life. I drew myself in a bit tighter. She must have seen the not-so-hidden change in me because she sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. "He needs a bit of time right now, Mattie. Trust me. I know the look that was on his face. He needs some time before you go looking for him." I nodded and the conversation died down. Every now and then I'd glance at Liz. "Mattie," she said after some time. I looked at her, my eyes shining and fearful. "Come here, baby." I launched into her arms and held tightly to her, as if afraid she'd shove me aside like the nobody I felt I was. The truth is I was terrified they'd both do just that.
I found him sitting against a fence post, hidden among the tall weeds that sprouted through the summer, not far from where Liz suggested he might be. My body blocked the sun from his eyes and my shadow was cast over him. He looked upward to me squinting still against the high afternoon sun. "Hi," I said with a tentative wave of my hand. He half grinned and the feelings plainly written across his face made me take an involuntary step back. "Can I sit down...please?" He nodded and looked off to the right. I sat, though not close enough to touch him; however much I wanted nothing more than to crawl into his arms and for him to tell me everything was going to be alright. "I..." I shut down. Stopped talking. Stopped looking at him. It was quiet for some time before he spoke. He still wasn't looking at me but at his folded hands. His voice was soft, low, despairing.
"You lied to me."
"I what?" I frowned slightly at the accusation.
"You. Lied. To me." His voice had this time an edge to it that felt like a stab to the heart.
"The hell I did," I responded with an edge to my own tone. "I've never fucking lied to you and how dare you accuse me otherwise."
"You told me you didn't do that. That you did it once but your sister stopped you before you could go too far." Tears fell unnoticed from his eyes. His tone changed with this lowly spoken sentence. Heart shattered and lost.
"Mykel...I wasn't trying to kill myself. That's what she stopped from happening that day. You never asked me and we've never discussed...this..." I gestured to my legs. "It isn't a habit, Mykel," I added lowly. "I don't know what caused me to do it. I just...it was too much...and I...I'm just...stupid...and I'm sorry." My chest tightened and my voice cracked.
"How often does it happen, Mattie?" His question, while the same question Liz posed for me a couple of hours previous, felt like a stab wound in the heart of my soul.
I bit my lip. I didn't know what to expect from him. I felt like I was drowning in this sea of entropy, and while I could see my lifeline staring back with eyes just as storm tossed as my own, I reach him. I couldn't reach out. I felt the same answer slip from my lips that I gave to Liz. "Not...not often."
"Mattie...please." He looked at me, his eyes pooling and overflowing, his voice pleading and broken.
My expression and tone matched his, my face pale and drawn, my heart pounding behind my ribs, my blood rushing through my being so fast I heard it like a rapid river. "Since coming to live here, this is number three."
"Three?" His eyes were wide, his jaw slack. "You've..." He didn't say anything else but instead closed his eyes as more rain fell from them. "I can guess when the other two times occurred." He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath, hiding his face behind his hands for a moment. When he looked at me again his eyes were dry, and he gave me a lopsided grin which I couldn't make heads or tails of. "I'm sorry," he said finally. "I should have reacted better than I did." I gaped at him. This isn't what I expected. I frowned slightly in confusion. Slowly he reached out for me as if to not frighten me. "Come here, mon bonheur."
At those words, I was in his arms, my chest heaving as rippling sobs burst forth. I clung to him with such a need that I was sure I was going to leave bruises. As the pressure built in me I screamed into his hold, my cries increasing. He held me there hidden in the grass until finally, I calmed enough to properly breathe. "I'm sorry, Mykel. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me. I'm sorry." I began to get worked up again.
"Baby, baby, easy. Easy, baby." His hand moved in calming motions over my back. "Easy. Breathe. I'm not mad, Mattie. I wasn't ever mad, my love. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I reacted like that. It just...brought things back and it took me by surprise and I'm sorry. Forgive me?"
My lamentation began again as his voice broke. I sat up and looked at him. "Will you forgive me?"
"Oh, baby..." He thumbed away tears from my cheeks. "Do you know what I mean when I tell you I love you?"
"That you love me?"
"And that means all is already forgiven." He smiled sadly at me and wiped my face once more. "I love you."
I buried myself into him as once more my wails began anew; only this time it was tears of relief, a releasing of fear and distress. "I love you, Mykel. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"I know, baby. I know. Sh. Sh. Breathe, love." It wasn't until I'd once again calmed that he spoke. And as he did he pushed me back slightly to look into my eyes. "Mattie, promise me something. Okay? Please don't do this anymore. Please, baby. Please." He had his hands to either side of my face, his expression wide-eyed and full of an old pain and a new fear. "Please, Mattie. I can't lose you too. Talk to me. Talk to Liz. But please, Mattie, please, baby, don't do this anymore." His begging broke my heart. It hit me then. No one had ever cared this much before. No one had ever shed tears over me like this. I pulled him to me and we clung to each other.
"I won't. I promise. I won't. I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry."
He nodded into my chest. "I'm sorry too." He pulled back to look at me. "I do love you, Mattie."
"Do..." My heart broke and my throat closed at even thinking the question, but I had to force myself to ask anyway. "Do you love me less now?"
"Oh God, baby no. No, Mattie. No. There's nothing you can do that would ever make me stop loving you, or make me love you less. I swear, baby."
"I love you. I'm really sorry."
He nodded and sniffled. "I love you. I know. So am I. How about we go inside, smoke a bit, and eat some breakfast. Okay?" I nodded and together we stood. "Hey," he said as he tugged me around to face him. He kissed me gently, conveying the love he had for me. I smiled as I kissed him. Things weren't the same and I liked the change I saw in myself. Maybe, I thought, just maybe things will be alright. Eventually.
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