Friday, 28 June 2013

Despair

I sat in the bath and wept.

You had left twenty minutes ago to spend time with another woman. The woman who you insisted you were just friends with, but whom you admitted you were attracted to, you liked better than me and said you didn't want me there because I got in the way.

I should have packed my world up and left you then.

Instead, I ran a bath and chose a book. I didn't add any bubble bath or scent to the water - it was perfectly clear. I sat in the water and hugged my knees.

At some point I started to cry.

At some point the water got cold.

At some point I heard my razor calling to me.

Do you know how hard it is to take a safety razor apart? I finally had the blade, and the broken plastic was at the bottom of the tub. That irritated me, I wanted the water to be pristine. I wanted to be comfortable.

The blade slid up my leg, following the path it had taken so harmlessly before.

The blood in the water didn't pearl or run as it does in the air. Instead it was caught and suspended, gradually dissipating into a cloud. The pain was clean and sweet. It was nothing like the horrendous turmoil you caused me; nothing like the black hollow of misery that you gave me.

I wanted more.

Gradually the water turned red and at some point you arrived home.

"what the Hell are you doing to yourself?" you screamed at me when you saw.

Ahh, but this wasn't me. If it hadn't been for you, this would never have happened.