Remains of a Battlefield: True Fiction

His hands gingerly rest on her hips as the muggy air continues to be devoured by silence.  They’ve been at it for hours and it’s clear she has nothing left.  She doesn’t have the energy to push him away, so she goes limp and sinks out of his arms.  The words “It’s over” tip toe out of her mouth with the slightest hesitation, completely deflated she comes to rest on the tile floor.  She goes to wipe the tears from her eyes but she has none left, she’s past the point of crying.

It’s been a long time coming, every relationship has a general ebb and flow but this was just absurd. So now the battle is over but it’s clear that there’s no winners, just lifeless cadavers that draw a small resemblance to a time that was once beautiful.

He takes two bracing steps backwards, almost as if her words literally knocked the wind out of him.  He knew it was coming… the build up was palpable and the eggshells had been cutting his feet for months.  So the result of this latest fight was almost welcomed even though it hurt.  He opens his mouth to say I love you but instead of words all he can find are more tears.  He gazes down at the puddle of the broken girl he loved, he wants to fix her… he wants to mend her wounds… he wants to make her smile.  But he knows his very presence is the cause of this carnage.

Why do we love the ones that hurt and hurt the ones we love?

She looks up from the floor and sees him gathering his things, she thinks to herself… Why is he leaving?  Why didn’t he say anything? Why doesn’t he want me?  She knows this way of thinking leads down a cruel road but she can’t help but feel the self-doubt and self-blame creeping in.  Her eyes grow heavy and she stares blankly back down into the palms of her hands and ponders if she could do more… maybe, maybe, maybe… she thinks. Then she’s reminded of the last 2hrs and how this firefight started with a simple question… “What do you want for dinner?” She knew there was more to it than that, but when your relationship is battlefield and past wounds explode like landmines… it doesn’t take much before the smell of charred emotions start to fill the air.

They say all is fair in love and war, but I fail to see fairness in a heart destroyed.  Sure we pick up the pieces and build again, but our hearts can’t love by us just saying when.

As he closes the door behind him, he mentally remembers the room.  Although he’s drenched in heartbreak, it’s her scent that still looms.  He struggles to take the first step down the corridor of forever.  He turns and looks down the hallway and is weighed down by fear.  The fear of uncertainty, the fear of a life unfinished… more importantly the fear of a life without her.  His thoughts return to her on the floor, he wants to turn around start again.  He made a mistake and realizes he has something to say, his heart is racing.  He thinks to himself, I fix this… he reaches for the door…

Click… the door locks!

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3 responses to “Remains of a Battlefield: True Fiction

  1. Wow! I was there. Amazing piece of writing. I’ve been in that position – words have slipped out and before you know it the situation has become something you never dreamed of or wanted.

    “So now the battle is over but it’s clear that there’s no winners, just lifeless cadavers that draw a small resemblance to a time that was once beautiful”.

    I felt it.

  2. I teach my students to “Show, don’t tell” in their writing. This is a clinic on making the reader experience what you experience.

  3. this is great….but I’d remove the exclamation mark at the end…you don’t need it.

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