Natolie Webb

The Heartbreak

She stood alone on the sidewalk, her broken heart too feeble to beat properly, too shattered to function… His words had hit her like a punch to the gut and when he walked away, her shredded ego followed him in a bloody trail.

Why couldn’t she have needed him less? Why did she have to smother him so? She had been so afraid to lose him… And it was precisely why he left. She was self-aware enough to realize she was experiencing the crushing irony of a self-fulfilling prophecy.

His words echoed in her brain on a relentless loop, “I just can’t be your everything. I need to breathe.” Well, now he could but she couldn’t.

As she stood there, paralyzed with sadness, a gentle rain began to fall, merging, seamlessly, with the tears on her cheeks. It felt appropriately cleansing. She willed it to rain harder and the universe responded. The clouds opened, releasing a torrent fat raindrops which flooded the sidewalk abruptly, and washed her pain to the gutter… Or at least enough of it to allow her to move.

She walked home slowly, through the rushing, bustling crowd. She would make some changes, reinvent herself, toughen up. Maybe she would go back to therapy…

Maybe… No. No. She would. She would go back. She needed help. She wanted to be her own everything.

Reaching her apartment, she let herself in, toweled off, and retrieved her phone from her purse. She punched the number without hesitation. Her heart still hurt but at least, now, she was in control of her own decisions.

Nothing Like You

Source (Picture of a female presenting person in a red dress, sitting curled up on the floor)

He was nothing like you, but I was lonely
I was nothing like the me I used to be…
Unable to be alone for one more night
His hands, so un-calloused, unlike yours
My clothes, new, shiny… Too different
I left them behind, like you left me
Piled like a glittering puddle on his bedroom floor
I dropped my heart there too
He touched me and I wished I was gone
Dead and gone beyond with you
And maybe I was… As I lie dead beneath him
Longing for something… Someone else
I can never have again.

You Should Be Here

Source (Picture of a table set for a celebration)

Today of all days… You should be here. If I’m being honest, I never expected you wouldn’t be… I hadn’t planned for this eventuality.

I’m trying to enjoy myself. There’s music and dancing, family and friends… And our girl. You would have been so proud of her choices, her bravery. She would have loved to walk down the aisle on your arm. You would have loved her new wife.

But you’re not here. I’m alone… And I’m angry. Maybe that isn’t fair. I actually thought I was over it a long time ago… But today of all days… I can’t help but think of you had taken care of yourself. You would be here.

The Imprisoned

The bull spent his lonely days in his pasture bordering a quiet country road. His heart longed to be free, but at every turn were clear boundaries. The memory of each one was burned into his flesh. There was no escape. Stray too far afield and… Pain.

When he saw her then, walking along outside the boundary, as if freedom were a thing to be taken for granted, his heart filled with pure unadulterated hatred. He longed to charge the fence, break through it, gore and trample her… But he stood still. He was powerless, without hope. He knew himself only as a prisoner, a victim.

The woman walked slowly, watching him, as he watched her. He had the strangest sense that she could feel his wrath through the buzzing of the electric fence. Her innate fear was palpable, but there was something else. He felt it wash over him, like a wave… Love.

She stopped and smiled. She had received his hatred and sent back love and understanding. He felt, in a flash, her own sense of helplessness and then, a change, an opening… An idea, “We’re both trapped in this system until we have the courage to face the pain and break free.” She looked straight at him and he saw himself, breaking through the pain, through the fence into the unknown… Perhaps a complete and utter failure, leading to his death, but also, perhaps, something else. Something new and free…

“Only you can choose for you, just like I can only choose for me.” She gave him one last look, one last smile and began walking again, the new lightness in her step, echoing the new lightness in the air between them. He watched her for a long time as she meandered away into the cold darkness, the mist from her breath trailing behind her.

Perhaps tomorrow he would make a different choice…

Pills

Source (Picture of female presenting person taking a pill)

The pills clouded her brain but then so did the illness on its worst days. She sighed and tried to resolve herself to a life of feeling tired. She was too exhausted to go out, too exhausted to work, too exhausted to have fun.

When she dared to look in the mirror, a tired looking face looked back at her forlornly. When she tried to go out with friends she could only think of going home. When she tried to go to work… She got pneumonia… Her body just couldn’t manage the every day.

And so, she felt alone, weak and useless. She wanted to take care of everyone. She wanted to take care of herself… But she could do neither. It made it hard to feel worthwhile. It made it hard to love herself at all…

The Decision

Source (picture of a woman with a black eye)

He screamed down at me, though tears of rage and jealously, “I thought you loved me!”

Numbly I looked around the room through my swollen eyes. I took in its abysmal state… The things he had broken, my blood on the counter where he had smashed my face, my grandmother’s watch, irreplaceable and now broken beyond repair… It was complete and utter chaos.

It wasn’t the first time, but in that moment I saw it as if it was. The mess in the room was a sudden clarity… A metaphor for my whole life, a warning for my future.

I pulled myself up, shaking and feeble but determined. I looked him straight in the eye, swallowed my fear and said, “I love me more.”

Perfect

Source (photo of a person looking contemplative)

You didn’t know this but you were perfect to me. Maybe because I only thought I knew you well… Maybe because you didn’t let anyone know you at all.

You hid your demons somewhere deep, in the shadowy corners of your soul. You hid them so well… I never knew. I never even saw it coming.

You were perfect… But perfection bears a price. So you made a perfect plan and executed it perfectly… And now you’re gone and I’m perfectly alone with your imperfections.

The Waiting

Source (picture of a dog lying on a beach with its eyes closed)

I’ve waited for you… All the long days you’ve been gone but in my dreams we’re still running. Together we leave the little house, emerging into the early morning air. Together we run though the grassy marshes, trot easily along the boardwalk with it’s mouth watering scents and meander the beach, the delicious cool saline licking our feet…

And yet, I awake to a lonely house… The quiet broken only by an occasional sob. I sniff the air longingly, wistfully, hoping for shred of your scent. I wander the hallways thinking maybe you’ll be just around the corner. I poke my head into empty room after empty room…

I love the other one… The one you loved so much you invited her into our lives. I snuggle her when she cries because I know she misses you too… but it’s not the same. When she clips on my leash, it’s half-hearted. When we go out to walk, we stay close to the house…

It’s nice but it isn’t enough… And so, I wait. I will wait forever for you…

The Way You Look at Me

Source (picture of female presenting person near a fence)

I tried not to look at you. I really did. I knew somehow the force of your wrath would burn my retinas… But it was like trying not to look at the storm raging outside your window… I had to take a peek.

As expected, your glare was a force to behold. I felt it pierce my chest like a freshly sharpened sword. The room became tight and hot and way too small to hold your anger.

I wanted to flee… I wanted to but I couldn’t. I couldn’t breathe and so I stood rooted to the spot as you made your fiery approach. I saw it coming, as if in slow motion… You tilted your hand, wound your arm and thrust the contents of your drink into my face. This was followed by a spectacular tirade of words I will never dare to repeat.

When I could move again, I left, making a mental note to never again cross your path. Don’t get me wrong. I know I deserve your hatred… But apologizing doesn’t feel like a possible course of action at this time… I’ll just try not to look at you again. It’s the best I can give you.

The Beautiful Chaos

Source (picture of a woman in silhouette with a sunset behind and lights trailing from her skirt.)

How could I call you mine? Even if I wasn’t turned off by the phrase and its implications of owning another as opposed to loving another free soul… Even then, it would be impossible for me to ever call you mine.

Because you are you… The most beautiful, amazing and unpredictable person I have ever met. I am in awe of your many twists and turns, your dark alleys and joyful light-filled rooms. You are a beautiful enigma… A stunning mandala… A surprising labyrinth.

To call you mine would be to cage something whose essence lies in its freedom… whose beauty depends on its ability to fly, jump, sing and roar… And so I’m content to watch you grow and explore as we exist together in a state of beautiful entropy.