In My Head

There are so many ways to end relationships. I think everyone hopes to find the least painful way, this time the ending, like credits at the end of a movie. One particle at a time, polarity began to shift, until the placid attraction became volatile rejection. The end began when I became happy. Instead of angrily demanding things, I gave him freedom and relinquished hope, and for a short time I was happy to get whatever I was given. But, the rush of mutual attraction brought so many pleasant possibilities, as if liking someone and being liked back were all that was needed to try on forever, and I do love that idea. In my head, we have already done everything I wanted to, except I did them all alone and imagined you.

In my head, my father beat you in chess. He talked about places that even you have never been, and you looked at him astounded that he existed, realizing instantly the magic within me, knowing you would never be satisfied and could never let go, or hold on. You told him about your mechanical expertise and how you built a motorcycle for the first time when you were 13, he showed you the Honda Dream he bought when he was 18, and we bought a second bike just like it and we spent 5 days rebuilding it for him. We raced down the street with no helmets on, going the top speed of 55 miles per hour. We parked the bikes inside the old shop, followed the smoke to the backyard, where my dad had started a fire and it was starting to get dark.

The fireflies came out, I jokingly told my dad to go away, but by the end of the first week, just like all my friends, you loved my dad just as much as me, you even said it. I finally found a way to break you away, I took you for a drive in the woods up the grassy, branch-covered road, I hopped out just when you thought we'd reached the end, pulled out my key and let you in, opening the gate to 350 acres of Private Property. I parked us by the landmark tree just past the opening under the light of the moon, I told you to follow me, and you did. We walked to the old stone foundation, where a family lived in 1906, and we described together what their lives must have been, right down to the reason they left.

The next morning, we put the borrowed kayak on the jeep, I took you to the beach in the city, just up the street from my high school, plopped the single-seat barely floatable boat in the water, gave you the paddle and sat on your lap. I showed you the way to Red Rocks, we paddled up to the Tables, the small 40-foot rockface cliff I jumped on my 15th birthday, and then I showed you the scar where the rock put a gash in my knee. Around the point, I got out of the boat, pulled you and the boat onto the rocks of the romantic desolate beach in full sun, and you remembered to ask where the 79’ jump was. I pointed up, it’s called The Bluff, but you didn’t jump. You stayed with me and kissed me, we swam out and climbed up Lone Rock, once we got to the top, we were entirely exposed, but quite alone, you pulled my bikini string loose. My head tilted down, but my eyes looked up, and I gave you the ‘come get me’ look, walking backwards, counting the steps, I tied my string, turned, and leapt before you could stop me, even though you wouldn’t. I yelled for you to follow me, and you finally jumped.

In my head, I took you to dinner downtown and we brought a bottle back to my house, we walked to the lake that night and I pointed to the place I thought I saw the legendary Lake Monster, Champ, and you laughed when I said I mistook it for a beaver. We got undressed and flirted beneath the surface, everything was bliss. We walked in the dark back home, went up to my room and laid in my bed to fall asleep, except I couldn’t, and neither could you, we both seemed to have something to say, but we didn’t, so once again I jumped out of the bed a told you to follow me, and you did.

In my head, we’ve done everything already, and reality is never as good or bad, as we imagine, which is why I’m always jumping, walking, or running away, and you always follow, but you only found me in the first place because I let you. You only see me because I double back, but in my head, I was always just out of reach. The ending is like the beginning, slowly slipping away, while staying in touch. Picking up the phone or answering a text out of pure curiosity, hoping your magic wasn't a trick, wishing your head felt what your eyes said.

Months have gone by, over a year since it started, but I'm not entirely sure when it began. But now, I’m sitting alone by the frozen lake, the seasons are changing and spring is on the way, but winter won't let go. The ice wants to go out, and the edges are thawing now, it would be dangerous to walk out, of course I stand up and head for the silver line where the ice meets the sky. Everything seized in the moment, icy fog, stinging my lungs as I run onto glass, wondering if my lungs would exhaust me and force me to stop before I got to the open section the sun was beginning to cripple the integrity of the lake, even though trucks drove on it, just a few days before.

The color is changing from clear to cloudy and now to white, its almost adopting a tessellation-like shape. Invisibly leveraged on the place of the packed little shapes, and a few of them near the edge seemed to be tumbling, as if someone took a fistful of crayons out of a giant box, and the ice like particles suddenly changed direction, like iron filings to a magnet. Unfortunately, the crayons needed each other to stand up. Like pencils in a box, straw in hand, like temperature and land, they rely on each other. I guess even the runner can be stopped, and then while I slowly cool in the ice bath, hypothermia kissed my skin and I stopped shaking.

In my head, you parked your car and saw me fall through, as soon as I touched the water, you tied yourself to a tree with the longest rope and walked out slowly, as if you were going to leave me in there to suffer the consequences of my own pain and stupidity, and I promised I'd stop running that day. But, you've never been here before, so how could you know.

You called and texted a few times that week, but you never heard back. You assumed I lived happily ever after and you were truly happy for me, because you knew I deserved that. I woke up from this dream on Sunday, and I remembered your eyes the first time I realized there was going to be a problem. I felt you watching my lips move when I was telling a story that I knew was boring, you repeated the last sentence I said as you usually do, but you should never have called me a diamond. It was the beginning of the end, and I hope I learned my lesson.