“YOU”

I asked him what love meant to him and his lips formed, “You!”, nothing more than that just “you” as calm as early morning, as simple as putting three alphabets together, he said, “you”. But I knew it, I knew then and there that he was lying, coating his words with sugar so that their purpose underneath would remain hidden and I was not going to be convinced otherwise. I look into his eyes searching for all the what-nots, sorting out their puzzles so I could get the key piece to put it all together the way it was, or rather the way I want it to be. He didn’t break eye contact, brave indeed, well-skilled and well-planned, maybe he knew that this conversation was going to happen today. Silence scattered between us, it wasn’t silent of course, I had made sure of that by deciding to meet him at the beach. The corners of his mouth spread across into a smile, I guess more words weren’t needed from my side. I couldn’t take it anymore, my eyes were growing moist.

Ughhh, that wasn’t necessary

I wiped that bloody first tear off my cheek, I could still feel his eyes gazing, and I couldn’t dare open my eyes. My eyelids betrayed me once more as moist, steady, salty liquid followed down, stinging the trail of my first tear. This is getting bad! He pulled me into his arms and strangely I knew what was going to happen next, I could feel it in my gut. I knew something worse was going to happen, it was as if I had lived through this earlier in my life. I closed my eyes and buried myself deeper into the crook of his neck, the man that I hated was now comforting me with his one hand as his other hand pierced through my gut with a knife. For once, I don’t hesitate, I don’t want to let go of him, for once, I just want to find comfort in his words, in his “you” as his hand caresses my hair; I wince as he withdraws the knife and I brace myself for what is going to happen next.

4,3,2,1, and go

The knife hits its now familiar spot again, edging deeper into my gut. “This is the only way I could get inside you baby. And so I did, after all I do love you”, his words resonate through my body sending chills down my spine, he removes the knife out of my gut to put it back again at a different spot.

This motion continues but I never let go of his arms, I hate him now, but I’ve loved him for my entire life, his hand gently strokes my hair and I am reminded of the beautiful life that we had before we made a mess out of it. The knife moving in and out of my body feels strangely good, something soothing for once, after everything hectic that I’ve gone through the entire day. I focus on the knife’s motion, the feeling of it tearing apart my insides, yes, that’s how I used to feel when he made love to me, extremely pleasured and unbothered by the pain. His stabs now pick up rhythm going in and out as if he is truly making love to me, and I just calm my dying heart, at least I get to die in his arms, experiencing his touch that I had craved for so long, at least I get to be with him. I close my eyes in relief.

I blink to open them again, again as I sit with him at the beach and a question crosses my mind and I ask it away “What does love mean to you?” and strangely enough I already know the answer-“You!”