Nothing's left
After Rex's death I've realised something. Something that had been deep inside my heart, too shy to come out. Too shy to scream to be let out. I didn't know about it. But now I do. Now is one of the days in my life that turns the whole world upside down and makes me cry. One of those days was when I married Rex. When I gave brith to my son. When Rex died. And yesterday.
My life is full of shards. Nothing is left to smile about. It's the story of a sad, sad woman that hung on what was left: Her feelings for another woman. Her feelings for her neighbour, her feelings for Lynette.
I will never forget the look on her face. I will never forget that day.
I woke up early in the morning. It was still dark and I went down to drink some milk. It always helped a little to slow down my thoughts. But that time, it didn't. My thoughts kept on running and running around in my head. They called Lynette's name, on and on. And so I sat in the kitchen, realizing that I felt more than I should. Realizing that I needed to tell her, otherwise my chest would tear in two parts. Nothing around me was able to give what I needed. No perfect kitchen, no perfect children, no perfect me. I needed her; she who was not perfect, she who didn't force herself to smile about things that weren't funny. She who was natural. She who I loved and she who was able to love back. She whose heart was warm and whose smile make me shiver. Lynette. My bare feet on my kitchen floor woke me up from my daydream. It was cold, in the middle of the night, and I shivered.
So I went outside, in my pyjama, my hair not done and no make-up on my face. I've never left the house without it. Never. My perfect side had died this night in my feelings. I drowned it. I didn't care. I walked across the Wisteria Lane, knowing that all people were asleep. None of them knew what I was doing, none of them thought I could act likely. But I did.
When I knocked on the door, I didn't even feel my toes anymore. There was only my heart that beat and beat. After five minutes of knocking, I felt it got colder and it had started to rain. I wiped the wet rain off my face and kept on knocking. I was soaked when the door opened.
"Bree?"
Her husband had opened the door. He stood in front of me, an expression of disbelief on his face.
"Could I talk to Lynette?", I asked, not really knowing what I was doing.
"Yes, come on in," he gave back and didn't ask. He handed me a towel and went off. I stood there, the towel in my hands, not even thinking about using it to get myself warmer. I didn't care. There was nothing on earth I cared about anymore but this woman.
She went down the stairs, frowning as if she thought her husband had been joking. But then she saw Bree and stopped frowning. She smiled. "But Bree, why-"
"Lynette, I love you."
Silence. I don't know why I said it so abruptly. I needed to get rid of it, otherwise I would have died a second later. She stared at me but didn't reply. Every second of silence tore my heart apart. Why didn't she say anything?
"Lynette?"
Silence. She said nothing. Just nothing.
"Bree," she said then, "please, don't get me wrong-"
"Okay," I understood what she would say. I didn't come to hear that she loved me. Because she didn't. My task was fulfilled. My heart stopped beating so fast, my breathing slowed down. I was satisfied. She didn't love me, yes, that hurt, but I knew when I left the house that it would turn out like this. She loved her husband, and I would never be a part of her live. "I understand. I'm sorry I woke you up." With that, I turned around and left their house, gently closing the door behind me. I dropped the towel and walked home.
In the middle of the street, I couldn't walk on but sat down. So, I sat there, in the middle of the street, waiting for death to come. It must have been hours.
In the morning, Mike found me while jogging and called an ambulance. He was shocked. "Bree," I heard him call, "your lips are deep blue! What are you doing out here?"
"My husband," I lied. God, I lied. I didn't want to hurt Lynette any further.