Hey, I was a part of a literary blog relay. Here's the gist:
One writer writes at 250 word post/story/fragment and then tags the next writer, etc., etc. We can write whatever we want, so long as our posts begin with the last line of the previous post and are linked to a central them; in this case, “Transformation.” Kind of like a track and field relay–except we’re writin’ it!
This, of course, is awesome and stressful and not the sort of thing I'm used to doing. And, of course, I got sick the week mine was supposed to post. But, even a day late, I gotta say that I'm pretty happy with what came out.
But yo - do yourself a favor. Go read all the posts. Every one of them is amazing. And then come back and read mine.
"My love,” she says. “You’ve changed.”
It took me by surprise, of course, because, like most things, it happened slowly and we were never the type to acknowledge the cracks – even as they snuck across every part of our life.
It would be a lie to say either of us expected it. But there were times when I was unable to shake the feeling that everything was backwards. It itched places I couldn’t articulate – a slow, tickling sense of disorientation. Like one of my contact lenses was the wrong prescription. And that just grew and grew.
But even now, I can’t explain it - the attraction had always been there, striking like a match the first time I saw her. God, there were days when we got lost. When we couldn’t wait for the bedroom. The floor, the kitchen, everywhere. Even the backseat of her car, too small for passengers and, most certainly, for the sort of things we tried.
Yet, when she smiles at me – just now, her hair falling across her face – I can’t say where it went wrong. I can’t say that she isn’t beautiful, isn't the same woman who made me stumble so many years back. The one who’d break into my apartment, who can still make me smile, even when I don’t want to. My love – first, truly, fully.
It’s enough to hold my tongue. To pause before I finally say it. Before I agree and everything changes.
She smiles again.
She smiles again.
“Your shirt. You were wearing the blue one before?”