Sleep has never been a familiar companion and I've spent more mornings and nights alone than I care to remember; ones lost in the aftermath of fear. Cycles I couldn't overpower. Husbands and lovers who treated me as property; never equal and always nonessential. They'd take out their frustrations, my actions brandishing simple mistakes, until their physicality resulted in the evidence that marred my skin; directions to failure on a human map.
Estranged companions were nonexistent when I was free from the painful recollections of my past and I I refused to let my being succumb to fleeting passions. Desires mixed with rational thoughts and they stopped as soon as they began. I was determined to push it all away; I wouldn't be someone's one night stand. I deserved better; more.
Ultimately though I knew I was damaged. I could understand how unworthy I was of love; the thoughts consumed me continually and it was easy to feel them wrap around my neck, a noose; breathing just another impossibility.
He drove me to the point of madness. Bested my advances, my relentless conquest for power at every turn and I was beyond frustrated. I sacrificed everything trying to protect my family, fought like a caged animal, and he continually threw it back in my face like child's play. It was a war I couldn't win. I was a fictitious prisoner when it came to Alex Romero but fuck if I couldn't stop thinking about him.
I paid this sick price often, each morning when I rose it was there; always lingering. Feelings were all consuming and I wore the frustration and the self pity like a mask. One that effortlessly disguised itself as anger. I wouldn't let him close enough to chip away at the ice.
It was senseless and I wasn't considering the gravity of my execution. I had broken into his home without any hint of my morality intact. My actions fruitless as I rifled through his personal belongings like the criminals he was sure to detain. When he found me he didn't flinch but his anger camouflaged the confusion. The fight progressed simultaneously and our screams intensified, challenging one another, always fighting for dominance. Hitting him, lashing out with hysteria is the only moment in my life I have been truly terrified.
He let me hit him. Didn't fight back and his lack of response was unsettling. No man had ever been passive, not hit with equal fervor and I kept waiting for the inevitable blow. Grabbing my wrists and effectively pinning me with his body is when I expected it most. I could feel power in the way his body pulsed, holding tight to mine, and I waited for the abuse; panicked when it didn't materialize. Instead I was met with supporting hands. His own grasp rough around the sides of my face offering comfort. There was no fight left and he let me cry. Sob with abandon against him; the sounds echoing my own misfortune.
The reassuring brush of his thumbs on my jaw was gentle and firm and as our breaths mingled together, rushed and fighting for release I realized the severity of our relationship. I understood that he cared, protected, and treated me like I was his everything. I wasn't ready to feel; couldn't allow myself to breathe. I was forever determined to suffer and escape became my only option.
"Don't touch me" And there it was. He let go like I knew he would.
But now this light was too bright; the intensity of it all burned against closed lids. Assaulting, trying to blind me through the haze of sleep. I was caught somewhere in that half consciousness, half hibernation, where everything was peaceful, dreamy, and weightless. He was asleep next to me, the gentle breeze carrying his scent, our nudeness and tangled sheets punctuating the events of the night previous.
I shifted to face him, the soreness from muscles unused was distinct, a delightful pleasure that I was not bothered by. I followed the curve of his body beneath the linen, listened to he predictable rise and fall of his unclothed chest. He was comfortable and I saw no reason to change that right now.
I knew he was watching me through my open window. Hell he was the only guest registered to my motel and stupid was something I was not. I probably should have been more concerned that my drapery was a defective covering but something inside of me was ignited by this fault. A thrill that flared my excitement at being wanted. It was perfection hidden by shadows, where he could look from afar and I could never get caught up in the mess of it all. The reality of failure made it too great a desire to act upon; I didn't want him to retreat.
But someone had taken over my body that night. The ghost of his presence missing after liquid beverage ruined expensive cashmere. And what started out for me as a legitimate problem manifested itself into an intensified lust filled day dream and before I could register conscious thought my pants were gone and I eagerly awaited his body. I had no regrets. But Alex was too good and I didn't deserve any piece of him.
I'm startled by his body movement. His tentative fingers reach for my own, intertwining. I let my eyes flutter close at the contact and once more I can hide behind a mask but his warm lips find my skin, ghost over the warmness, the pressure urges me to meet his gaze. I don't want it to end. I'm childish in this belief and I want to lose myself, relive this moment from here until eternity. I hide because deep down I know he can't see the real me; it would break us both.
"Morning" His voice is coarse but I can plainly hear his amusement.
"Not yet" It's whining and foolish but it doesn't stop me and I dig further into the sheets, bury my face in the pillow, shielding myself from his searching eyes.
"Norma come on. I don't bite" after brief pause he adds "We'll not that hard anyway". He lets a small laugh escape; breath reaching my skin; the proximity disruptive. I've never heard him this relaxed; always a picture of restraint. The thought of ruining this moment with hurt is killing me.
"What's wrong?" He squeezes my hand harder.
"Everything" its broken, probably muffled by the pillowcase, but I don't care.
"Are you hurt?" I don't answer.
"Norma" His tone questions. He retracts his hands immediately. "God I didn't mean...Jesus I'm sorry" He shifts to leave, to get up and untangle. I can't take it anymore. My mouth is desperate. I'm attacking him with my fear, the tormenting thoughts of heartache, trying vigorously to put pleasure into despondency. When my cries succumb to gravity and fall with harshness he clings to me; the pressure commanding me to stop.
"Come on. Talk to me" I try to speak but I'm fighting for air.
"I...I...just...I"
"Shhh. Take it easy. Just breathe for me Norma" His hands encompass my form, one holding, the other soothing in intricate patterns and it takes me quite some time to calm down. He remains the perfect picture of encouraging patience. Eventually there's nothing but silence.
"I'm not good for you" He opens his mouth to stop me, offer an explanation to my negative self-deprecation but stills when my hand meets his chest. My eyes search his for understanding.
"I need to say this Alex"
"Ok" He acts like it's simple.
"I'm not good for you. I've done this before and it always ends up the same" I'm talking fast because if I slow down I doubt I'll be able to start again and I need him recognize how dangerous I really am.
"When I was young all I had was my brother. An abusive father and passive mother led us to a life of self protection. I didn't know any better...and...and when it turned physical...against my will...I was left with Dylan. Sam wasn't any better. They both took pieces of me. It's a dark place to be but I don't know if I can ever recover from it" I linger before punctating my words.
"You're too good for me. I'm damaged. No one wants anything that's broken" I can feel tears again. Gentle this time and not as forceful; this time they fall from his eyes.
"I do"
"Alex"
"No more Norma" His voice is so incredibly angry that it causes me to startle. The authority of his tone is disruptive to the fragility of my previous speech but when he senses my distress he's comforting again. His voice is trembling when he does speak. I can feel it in the way my head rests close to his.
"You deserve" He hesitates. Emotion getting the better of him and it takes him a few deep breaths before he can resume his words.
"You deserve so much more happiness and love than anything you've had. Don't let anyone continue to treat you this way. Do you hear me? I love you Norma Louise Bates. How do you not see that?"
He manages to capture my lips in a shaky kiss. One that is so different from all the others we've shared. It's a simple outpouring of all the things he feels for me and I'm left breathless at it's enormity. It ends soon enough but the meaning is clear.
"I love you and I will spend the rest of my life making sure you feel it"
"I already do"