Doug: Wounds

I need to write a 7 page paper. But I'm going to do this instead, because this is the disquiet that follows my soul, and the paper is but a shadow on my mind.

A woman slept on me today. This is neither exciting nor new. Many girls and women have slept on me, with me or in my presence. Some have been friends. Some have been more than friends. Some have been both.

As I watched the soft female body beneath me slip into the twilight of dreams, I found myself thinking back to others that have done so. I found myself thinking of a mop of blonde hair, a sharp contrast to the rich chestnut flowing over my arm. I found myself thinking of a much smaller frame, with narrow eyes that changed color with her mood. I found myself thinking of someone else.

The one who slept on me today does not know that this is who I thought of. I do not know what she thinks. I'm not sure that I care.

I am angry. In an exhausted way. I'm convinced I made the right decision, but not particularly pleased with it. This is the way of things.

It will be this way for some time I feel. A ghost or two will haunt my quiet moments. It is the way of things, when you have lost something you love.

But what scares me, in the only way I can be scared anymore, is that no matter how hard I try I can't seem to forget the way she smells, the way she smiles, the look in her eyes when she's afraid.

The look in her eyes when she's in love.

God damn it. I hate it when the only option is to lose.

-Doug

"It was all or nothing. I wanted her to love me, and me alone. But I knew if I made her choose that she'd grow to hate me for forcing her. So I made the decision for her."

"And now she hates you anyway."

"No. And that's the worst part about it."