Memories of Matthew

I waited outside her house with a cup of coffee this morning. I made sure to order it exactly how she likes it: two sugars, very light and sweet with cream. Just one of the millions of memories of her that exist in my mind. I waited for two hours outside her home. The whole time I was smiling, I knew this was going to be a great day. Probably the best day I’ve had in the past month. I sat on her porch, letting the cool breeze of summer carry my pain away. I was able to see how helpless I am for her. Through all the pain and torture, I knew it was no way for any man to live. It is like I live to love her. And without that, I am nothing.

Around 7 o’clock her mom walked up the driveway. She was taking out the garbage. I obviously went out to help her. She was really surprised to see me. After all, it had been almost three weeks since the last time I had seen her. That’s a long time considering for almost three years I had been in her home every day. It was like I was a part of the family; as if I was her son. I know I am getting off topic but I can definitely say my eyes opened tremendously during these three weeks of separation. One thing I regret is the fact that I stopped spending time with my own family. It was like I enjoyed the company of her’s. I pretty much stopped talking to my own relatives. After we separated, the family which I had began to call my own had forgotten me. It’s like they didn’t even care that I was out of the picture. I mean Jesus Christ, you can call to see if I am ok. Whatever.

The sad thing is now, the family I turned my back on, is the same family that now comforts me when I’m at home depressed. Makes me feel kind of fucked up in a way. But at the same time it shows me how important blood is. I have never got along with my family. Especially my father. He’s one of those religious freaks. Since I was young I was always forced to go to church and shit. Definitely not my style. But yeah… I am getting off topic… I’ll save another page to complain about that stuff later.

So anyway, where was I? She was surprised to see me. She looked up at me with a smirk and asked, “What are you doing here?” An obvious question since it was so early in the morning, not to mention the circumstances between her daughter and I. I immediately responded, “I have to speak with Lisa.” I could tell she knew it was something important. It was probably from the sound of my voice or my teary eyes. So she let me in and I sat talking to her for a while. She asked me the same old chitchat that people always do just to make smalltalk, “How is everything?” “How have you been?” Blah. I wanted to tell her “it would have been nice if you had called,” but fuck it. Instead, I asked her to throw out the cold coffee I had been holding for a couple hours. After bullshitting with the mother, I made my way inside and upstairs to Lisa’s room. As expected, when I opened the door she was lying in bed sleeping. I sat beside her like I had done many times before. The movement of the bed woke her up. I gave her a hug and basically started pouring my heart out. She sat there emotionless, saying nothing until I was done. She started babbling on about how she missed me, how much better I was compared to all the guys she had gone out with.

Yes… She went on dates. Apparently when I was in my room crying like a fool, she was out getting pampered by other men. It is funny how I spent the whole time dying for the girl while she was out having the time of her life. So I casually listened to everything she had to say. After she was done, I whispered gently into her ear, “go fuck yourself, bitch.” It felt good. It felt really fucking good. On the way out, I said to goodbye to her mother and made my way home.

I think today I finally had my closure. I made a promise to myself: I am never going to go down that path again. Fuck her and fuck girls. As a matter of a fact, fuck people. That is the last time I will ever put my heart, or whats left of it, on the table.