Will

Hey everyone. My name is Casey Holmes and I'm the newest writer around these parts. I like to call my writing style deliberate. I hope to contribute my own brand of whatever it is that my brand delivers. Here's my first shot and it's a little unpolished, but it's a start. It gave me a chance to get some things out:

Will
by
C.W. Holmes

At the core of the matter was a divergence of paths and an ever diminishing amount of will that was driving her away. By the time she came to me, she had resigned herself to the facts and faced enough reality to come to her conclusion. She asked me to pretend for her sake and I immediately made the decision to be miserable with her rather than miserable without her. She told me that she didn't want to lose me (they always say that) and I told her that she probably would. We did. I tried for a little while out of equal parts habit and desperation. I couldn't remember a time in my life when I didn't know her. I didn't think I had a choice. I was disappointed by the way things were ending, again. I knew that I had to make a hard decision, but I didn't know if I could do it. Do I lose her now, or do I lose her later? For her sake, I was living a lie. I didn't know how long I could keep it up.

We had plans the weekend after my birthday and for better or worse I was going to keep them. As happy as I was to see her, I was unhappy that it wasn't under my conditions. I was jaded because it might never be again. It wasn't the way I wanted it to be. She stormed into my room ready to fly. We didn't have time to hesitate. I told her that I wanted to put on a white silk tie, but couldn't figure out how to do it gracefully. She said that I didn't need it. I told her that I wanted to look nice too. She hurried me out the door, into the car, and we were off. I asked her if something was wrong and she told me a story. I knew that I was in trouble.

The reason I was there that night was because somebody disappointed her. Somebody let her down. I immediately forgot the fact that this was the woman who broke my heart just a few days earlier and became her court jester. I felt a familiar wave of self-pathos wash over me and said, “Here we go again.” I stupidly forgot that I was in pain and found the will to make her night complete.

When we showed up I was happy that it wasn't too cold. I wanted to hold her hand, but only held myself back. We found a corner to stand in, close to the stage, and I made fun of people just to see her laugh. She told me she couldn't take me anywhere. I told her that she shouldn't go anywhere without me. When the main event came on stage, I stood behind her and put my hands around her waist. I tried to dance with her, but I don't even think she wanted me to dance with her. It was just too easy to hold her close. I wanted to dance with her but it quickly became a position of defense. I braced myself for every blow so that she didn't have to. I made sure that this night, she would get to dance in peace. Even if she had to dance with me. A fat sweaty man wearing nothing but an overabundance of body hair, and a thong, pressed up against me and made obnoxious gestures to the girl dancing to the left of us. It took all of my will to not turn and make him pay for forcing himself on everyone in the audience.. My fist already hurt from grinding my knuckles into the carpet of the stage.

She was happy as we walked back to my car. As usual I played the hero and came to her rescue. She thanked me, sincerely. I tried to hold onto her as we walked, but didn't feel right so I returned my arm to the side of my body and tried to keep warm. My shoes were sticky and my toes were bleeding. We didn't talk much on the ride home. Every now and then we would speak about our lives and where they weren't going. She didn't know what to make of life and I didn't have anything to tell her. We agreed that there was more to life and I couldn't help but feel that she was passing up something more to life in me. I resolved to myself that she would rather be miserable, than be with me. Maybe she was too scared. Maybe I wasn't worth it. Maybe she knew that someday she'd have to leave me anyway. I was running out of things to say. When we got to my house I put on my jacket and I hugged her as long as I could. I think she was expecting me to kiss and maybe she wanted me to kiss her, but all the same she didn't, so I didn't. She would never kiss me first.

She walked to her car and I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I watched as she walked away. I went into my room and slowly got ready for bed. I thought about dancing with her. I thought about the way she acted like the past few months just didn't happen. I thought about how much effort I put into the night just because she was sad. I felt like such a fool. I couldn't believe that I held her hand. I couldn't believe that I walked out the door and made it my mission to put a smile on her face. I loved that smile. I loved her even though she broke my heart. I loved her even though she was a mess just like me. I loved her even though I never expected she would love me at all, let alone the way I felt that I deserved.

I had a lot of trouble getting to sleep that night. Even though I was tired, I tossed and I turned for about three hours. I could smell her on my clothing and between my sheets. I realized quickly that the end of the relationship didn't mean the end of thinking of her every night. She gave me something pleasant to think about on lonely nights anxious with loneliness. Now she was the loneliness at night. I wrestled with the idea of losing somebody I loved. I thought of her face and her smile. I always loved that smile. I felt embarrassed and stupid. I felt lonely and ugly. I tried so hard to just get away.

We had plans the upcoming weekend and I wondered if I would have the will to keep it up. She needed me in her life. I wasn't nearly as strong as she needed me to be, or as weak as I often felt about myself. It was easy to tell her that she wouldn't lose me, and the truth is that I never wanted to lose her. I wanted to tell her that she would always be able to rely on me, but talk is cheap. I didn't know if I had the strength to hold her hand when she needed it or give her a shoulder to cry on. She would never cry on my shoulder anyway. I could probably handle it. I wasn't really sure. In the end it was all a matter of will. How strong could I be for somebody who would never love me the way I deserve? I still can't will myself to sleep at night.