I never should have loved you

I know that now

for even then I saw

good-bye in your eyes.

You were so innocent, so naive..,

You were everything I thought

I ever needed to see.

I never should have loved you

you never really knew me.

Mama told you what to believe,

Papa called you a fool

to love a dreamer, an artist,

A man who lived only

by his own rules.

I never should have loved

you but your tears blinded me.

I thought you understood.

Instead you slipped thru my fingers.

You offered me a dagger

and then cut into my soul.

I was young when I met you

but our good-bye had turned me so old.

Now, if ever I think of you

I whisper to myself

I never should have loved you,

you were only fool's gold.

2 Eggs, 3 Yolks

July 09, 2024

In college, our situation came from necessity. I roomed with Holly and Elizabeth. They are gay. I am straight. I gave them as much clearance as they required. I also paid half of the rent and most of the utilities. I got three hots and a cot. They got a friend.

After graduation, we opted to continue this arrangement in Los Angeles. I found a position in finance selling mutual funds. Holly became a baker. Elizabeth worked for an ad agency as a copywriter. The rent was outrageous, but we managed. We ate dinner together two or three times a week. I worked out when I could. The girls found the city both exciting and invigorating. We were in our grooves within a few months.

Then the girls began arguing. First, it was about the late nights for Holly and the early rising for Elizabeth. Then, the arguing moved to the silent treatment. With these two, a break up was imminent, but a change in domiciles was impossible. I offered Holly my bedroom while I slept on the couch.

It should have deescalated the tension. It only made things worse.

The yelling became louder. The girls did not want to be in the house at the same time.

I just wanted the best for the three of us. And that’s where I went wrong.

One day I left for work, only having to return to the apartment to pick up my phone. I had the chance to overhear the girls crying and fighting and crying again.

So I listened.

Holly told Elizabeth that the someone else she had fallen for was me. Elizabeth saw her life with Holly at an end. Where would she go? How could she pay her bills on her own? It would be too awkward to remain and too difficult to leave. Holly said things like this just happen and that Elizabeth would be fine on her own.

Holly gave Elizabeth just two weeks to leave the apartment.

I silently went back to my car and departed when the garbage man arrived, creating enough noise to mask my car engine. I like Holly, but I never thought of her in that way before. I felt sorry for Elizabeth. It feels good to be wanted, but not at this price. Not this way.

But, on the day Elizabeth moved out, I gave Holly a chance. We hit it off immediately and had a great run. However, it only took three months before Holly sensed I was not the person for her. When we began to fight, I asked her to leave the apartment just before she asked me to leave. My name was the only name of the lease and the threat of calling the police was enough to convince Holly of the error of her ways.

After Holly left, I needed a roomie to help with the bills.

The very next day, who should come calling? Why, Elizabeth. She heard from a friend that Holly was gone. Could Elizabeth return?

Of course I said yes.

I wanted to be careful so as not to lose a good friend and a rent check. Elizabeth had other ideas. One night, she entered my room and crawled into the bed with me. I was close too drunk and feeling no pain. My instinct surpassed my reservation and we made love.

Within a month, I came home to find Holly moved back in, via permission of Elizabeth.

The two girls act as if nothing had ever occurred, everything is as it always was.

The girls are (now) exclusively gay. Both are back at work. All of the bills are paid.

And I sit bewildered, but saying nothing.

Somewhere, I have a calendar with a 18 week period I blacked out with a Sharpie. Those days have all of the meaning in the world for me, but only for me. I can never get them back. I can never speak of them. Sort of a self-imposed gas-lighting. Sort of an emotional exile.

I value that calendar more than anything else I own.

This is a short story based on the writing prompt by Reedsy about Beginning or ending your story with a character taking a selfie. The story is about someone who talks to her friend about a selfie she took that shows what is different in her life...

Charlene Newman happened to be with her friends whom she trusted so much of late. She knew they were different because they hung out at Church prayer meetings on Sundays very near to where she lived in the Boston suburbs and read the bible a lot.

She took a selfie of herself next to a picture of a biblical quote with an archaic wooden frame; She knew it would be a different sort of post on Instagram. One of those posts about God and heaven above that made you think. About Life.

It had the words “If God delights in a man’s way he will never let him fall ” in cursive lettering, which meant a lot if you thought deeply about their meaning.

She planned on posting this picture on her social media. She knew that her other friends would post pictures of themselves trying on a new outfit or lipstick. But Charlene here, was trying to be different.

Charlene was trying to make the sort of friends that she knew would inevitably do something good. She, of course, wanted the world to know about it, like anyone who ever posted updates about their life on social media.

She was done with the sort of temporal friends who only hung out with you for what you could do for them, who did drugs, or had weird boyfriends.

She happened to be with one such friend, who called herself Petunia. Petunia Charles was someone who loved attending church prayer meetings a lot and seemed to do a lot of things right.

If there was anything good about their friendship, it was that Charlene felt Petunia was good at giving advice. Charlene was the quiet sort, who relied heavily on what other people had to say about literally everything.

But there was a growing sense of responsibility, and what one would call a maturity of sorts that could be seen in Charlene. She knew she wanted more from her life.

She didn’t want to be someone who did just about anything with her time, and her life. She wanted more people like Petunia around her who could guide her toward becoming a better version of herself. They left the prayer meeting they were so used to going to on Sundays, and went to a coffee shop just to relax.

Charlene and Petunia hung out at the coffee shop for a little while. There was beautiful relaxing music playing there in the background that made this particular coffee shop a favorite among many people who visited it.

Charlene thought about the picture of herself that she was about to post on Instagram. She sat down at a table opposite Petunia and looked at the selfie she had taken a little while ago.

She knew it was going to be a very different sort of social media post. Instead of posting typical selfies that were the kind young women usually would generally post on Instagram, here she was posting something very different.

Charlene was aware that hers was a post with a theme. A different sort of Instagram post which wasn’t all about her, but about the beautiful words of the painting behind her.

After Charlene had applied a beautiful pink filter to the picture, and trimmed it a little to avoid something unnecessary in the background, she decided to post it on Instagram.

She wondered whether she should ask Petunia about her thoughts on the picture before posting it. She felt it would be better to as a sort of surprise, and she posted it anyway.

Petunia somehow didn’t notice that Charlene had posted this picture, and they continued talking about other things. Petunia was a level-headed young lady, and that was a quality that Charlene particularly liked about her.

Petunia and Charlene talked about many things over coffee, and they discussed love as well. Charlene however seemed to like that Petunia never made any reckless decisions in her life ever. She seemed to think very hard and deliberated over every decision she ever made in her life.

After they were done with their outing, Charlene walked home from the cafe which was close to her apartment in the city. She was indeed still thinking about many of the things that she and Petunia had spoken about in the cafe, where they hung out.

When Charlene finally reached home, she opened the door of her apartment and walked in. She sat down in the corner on the pale blue couch that she loved so much next to the window.

The window was open and a light breeze could be felt. It was nearly 7:30 p.m., late in the evening, and Charlene had made a habit of sleeping early. Charlene usually went to bed at 9:00 p.m. She decided that she would do all of the things she was so used to doing until it was time for her to call it a night.

The awesome calm and serene aura that could be felt in the room was indeed intense. She knew that God worked in mysterious ways, which is something folks like Charlene, and the others at the prayer meetings she was attending had impressed on her.

Charlene used to be a reckless noisy type that never had a moment to spare. But these days the things she had been meditating on had been playing on her mind.

All the things she had been reading in scripture were coming back to her. All the thoughts she was having about being spiritual about anything in this otherwise empty world.

All the times she had pushed the empty calorie-laden treats away, and chosen to spend her money wisely. All the times she had chosen to call her mother, back home in Alabama, in the countryside, who was now aged.

She remembered how her mother loved that her daughter was taking the trouble to call and that it was a wise thing according to Church standards too. She decided to call her up and ask her how she was doing.

She realized that all of this was better than Netflix! She told her mother all about the so-called informed choices she was trying to make, choosing wise friends, and choosing wise past times.

She did not forget to tell her mother about the peculiar selfie she had recently posted on social media, which no one seemed to take note of because there was nothing too great about it. Her mother told her it was okay to tag her, which she did.

Charlene went to bed that night with a different sort of happiness. It was a weird feeling, that she couldn’t explain. She had held on to some feeling of goodness that dwelled inside her. The beauty of a quiet life seemed to take on a new glamour.

No longer was she the old Charlene who hung out at wild parties, and had many lovers as she chose.

She was now Charlene Newman who tried to be ‘that girl’ who was on a journey towards realizing her higher purpose, instead of being some sort of ‘it girl’ that would be celebrated in literally every catchy selfie she ever posted.

She slept soundly that night thinking about The One who sees all things. She wondered about her selfie and what people would say, about it the next day. Sure she had worn her best outfit, and done her hair and makeup. But what was so great about this particular post was the picture in the background.

She woke up in the morning with that same peaceful feeling. She got a message in the morning from her mother who had seen the photo. Her mother had been the first one to comment, that the picture in the background was what made her stand out.

Charlene’s photo went viral, even though many people did not think too deeply about the well-meaning words of God in the background. There were many other comments made by old friends from the old days saying things like ‘awesome selfie’ and ‘looking cute’ beneath her Instagram post.

But there was one thing that rang true about this particular post that Petunia also noticed, ‘If God delighted in a man’s way, he made his steps firm’ and this was a truth that made sense only to people seeking it.

Charlene was doing something right according to someone, and the fact that the photo went viral proved it. Probably to God, and everyone that liked that particular post.

Forgiveness can be given or earned. But the pain you caused can't be taken away so simple.

I want you to beg and weep, but I won't ask for that. I'm not trying to be the bigger person, I'm just too fucking tired.

If you regret it why'd you do it in the first place. You weren't thinking? Your emotions got the best of you? I misunderstood, and overreacted?

Okay. What else do you want me to say.

"Okay."