To think, the day started out the way it did. That only this morning, in the early hours of dawn, I was listening to the pounding of my heart. Convinced it was trying to break out of its mandatory jail cell known as my ribs. I couldn't help but think of hummingbirds and how they can flap their wings 80 times in a second. And even though that's fast, should someone ever take a stethoscope to my chest to listen to my heart beat whenever I lay my eyes on her, it would not compare. I swear; I could stare at her all day like a Caravaggio painting. She's just beautiful. Especially now, the way she was sleeping in my bed, face nestled into the crook of my neck, her breath tickling my skin while her bed tossed hair cascaded over my chin. I couldn't help but to inhale deeply, the smell of her shampoo tantalizing; assaulting all of my senses as I relished in her scent. Cherry blossoms and rain after a thunderstorm. Uniquely her.
The day was supposed to be magical, just like all the days leading up to it have been. How could it not, when I got to spend the early morning hours just watching her sleep peacefully, a serene smile etched at the corner of her lips. Or when I felt her hand trail its way up my naked torso as she slowly stirred from her slumber. Watching her, eyes still closed, as her hand came to rest above my heart for a few beats before continuing on its journey, sneakily inching over to cup my breast.
To think after this morning's antics; wandering hands, feverish kisses and a cold shower followed up by a leisurely walk through the campus quad discussing the perks of adopting a kitten together would lead me here. To this very moment. Sitting rigid on a bar stool, confusion written all over my face as I stare in utter horror at the petite figure standing motionless by the front door. I'm not sure how many times I blinked my eyes but it seemed with every flick of my eyelids, the image before me got stronger, brighter, and tangible.
I stood transfix, muscles twitching along my eyebrows as I try to piece together in my brain what I already know in my heart. It felt like hours flew by before she finally said his name. A strangled cry. "Oz". It's then that my brain and my heart sync together as I repeat the name outload. I catch her eye, holding her gaze briefly before dropping my head; my fingers have suddenly become very interesting.
Out of the corner of my eye, I look at the man standing sheepishly at the door and then to the woman who's been steadily stealing my heart. There's a look on her face that I can't decipher. Confusion, trepidation … Longing, probably. Voices started sounding all around me, blending together but all I could hear was my throat tightening as saliva strained to pass down my esophagus with a struggled gulp
I can't take my eyes off of her. There's this spark in her eye I'm not sure I've ever seen before. I feel my heart slowing and speeding up all at the same time. My breath is coming in silent raged waves now, just short of hyperventilation. I'm broken out of my muted trance when a blur of motion crosses in front of me. It's him, coming to stand by my goddess, my savior, my everything; asking to see her later.
His voice, the sound of dark brown velvet, destroys me as he calls out her name. Adoration clearly evident in his voice, even more so in his eyes. I can't help but drop my head again, the tension between them palpable. The room feels like it's closing in on me all the while rotating on its axes, spinning madly. I feel queasy as a sense of light headedness over takes me; I'm finding it difficult to breath. The air has become stale, stagnant, and seemingly too thick to swallow. I'm suffocating on my own thoughts. My brain and my heart both screaming at me now to run. To get as far away as possible. The inevitable is coming and you don't want to be around for it.
Through curtained hair, I watch what feels like a well-choreographed dance as Oz backs away from Willow and Buffy steps forward, her voice gentle as she comforts her best friend. Everything in me is still screaming to go, to get out, that I've made a huge mistake. Through restricted vocals, I choke out that I have to leave, that I'm late for study group. I feel her eyes scrutinizing me; she knows that I'm lying. She has my schedule memorized better than I do, having imbedded it into that beautiful brain of hers. She steps forward towards me, saying my name placidly. I see her reach out her hands instinctively to cusp mine, trying to stop me from leaving but I pull back; her touch feels like a hot iron, it burns my skin. I stutter feebly, the words sticking to my tongue as I tell her that she needs to be with her friends. It breaks my heart further but I walk away from her, a demure "but" chasing after me as I close the door on my way out of the apartment.
The long walk back to campus was torturous. Thoughts swiveled through my mind, berating me for falling for a straight woman. For falling for a straight woman who has a Bermuda triangle smile, sucking me in until I'm lost in her beauty. My own internal voice switches to my father's. His cold callouses voice prominent, furthering the berating. I hear him clearly, disgusted, patronizing me for being so foolish, to think anyone could possibly love me. My body grows cold, an uncomfortable numbness setting in as I enter my dark, desolate room, my eyes landing on the unkempt bed we shared just a few hours ago.
For hours I sat alone in my room, knees curled to my chest as I laid in a fetal position on my bed. I stared at the clock on the night stand, my eyes never wavering as I watched the glowing red numbers continuously roll over, ticking away, and letting me know that I've missed both of my evening classes. In the silence of my room, I pondered over the recent events and what it means for me. For Willow. For us.
If I could rewrite this day I would, but I can't, so we're here; in this concrete graveyard approaching the afterlife of our newly flourishing relationship. Because her heart speaks Antigone and I can't be her Sophocles. My thoughts continue to race like this well into the night, they flow through my mind at a rapid pace, but they always end the same. I keep coming back to the same resolution. That Willow needs to do what makes her happy … even if that mean's leaving.
The shuttering sigh that ransacks my body causes a new wave of tears to emerge. I let them flow freely down my cheek, dampening my pillow as I steady myself for what I know I need to do. Screwing my eyelids tightly shut, I conjure a picture of Willow in my mind, her radiant smile glowing like a neon sign. The image causes more tears to billow as the corners of my lips twitch. Tomorrow, I tell myself. Tomorrow I'll tell her she needs to do what's best for her … even if it kills me.
My alarm sounded two hours ago, but I can't phantom getting out of bed, the ceiling has become too enticing. The cracks and chipped pieces of paint calling to me, showing me what my heart must look like. It wasn't until rays of sunlight seeped through the curtains, reaching my bed and blinding me, that I forced myself to get up. To get moving. To face the inevitable.
Somberly, I put on clothing. A blue tie-dye number that's been hanging off the back of my chair for a few days now after an impromptu make out session with Willow lead to heavy petting. I barely register that my outfits dark, mismatched and wrinkled. The gloomy ensemble matching my mood. I don't have time to consider my appearance, seeing Willow has pushed its way to the forefront of my mind. Steadying my nerves as best as possible, I walk out of my room, my fingers trembling as I lock the door behind me.
Procrastination took over as soon as my shoe touched grass. What usually took five minutes, felt like thirty as I shuffled my feet to my final destination, a two inch thick piece of wood separating me from my dream woman. My never to touch again … to kiss again … to have again, woman. I close my eyes, taking in a deep lungful of air to try and calm the anxiety running through my veins, my fist rising to knock on the door.
My well-rehearsed speech disintegrates almost instantly, my mouth immediately going dry as the door swung open to reveal him. I can't help but notice that his shirt is just as wrinkled as mine. I look at him in shock, then briefly to the slightly rumpled comforter on the bed, and then back to him. Taking him in, absorbing his features. Oz. Ruggedly handsome in an unconventional way. I try to apologize but my stutters back, worse than ever. I tell him I'll come back later but he keeps on insisting for me to stick around, that Willow is just down the hall in the bathroom. He tries to engage in conversation but I'm doing everything to hold back tears, to not let him see how distraught I am by his presence. At his final remark, "You sure you don't wanna come in?" I shake my head no vigorously to keep from speaking through quivering lips, my throat so constricted I doubt any sound would have come out anyways.
Hastily I retreat, fleeing down the hall towards the sanctity of my own bedroom, new tears trailing down my cheeks. What had previously taken thirty minutes now felt like thirty seconds, as I enter my room out of breath, my hands instantly coming up to rub my red swollen eyes. Leaning back against the sturdy lumber, I let my head fall backward, the base of my skull connecting with the door. I repeatedly tap my head against the door while I chastise myself, new feelings and unwanted imagery engulfing my mind.
After minutes of self-belittlement, I pull my body from the door and cross to my bed, resuming the position from earlier. I hone in on the time on the clock, just past nine. I debate going to my classes but think better of it. My mind was too preoccupied to learn and my blood red eyes from the never ending streams of tears running down my cheeks were too prominent to hide. Pulling a pillow to my chest as my body quaked with silent sobs, I inhale deeply. The smell of Cherry blossoms and rain assault my sense all over again, creating a new wave of tears.
