letting go of the past

letting go of the past

i look back at the years we had, and you know what? it was a waste. you know what could have been? if you had just been less of a coward we might have actually gotten somewhere. it started off fine, but after we had sex, it's like you lost your balls. who's the one wearing the pants in the relationship? and there's no fucking reason why you shouldn't have stood up for me that one time. i lost my job, you spineless maggot. you could have spoken up, could have set things straight. i mean, why would i be stealing from the company to give to other people?? you could have said, "oh, she was framed. i saw them doing it." but instead of sharing that information at that crucial time, you stood there while i was framed and fired. some fucking man you are.

so you should understand why i was so ang- no, am angry with you. your inability to stand up for me wasn't the first thing, it was the last straw. you pretended to be this macho guy. that's how you wooed me in the first place... i was impressed. you weren't overly arrogant. you were realistically confident. i thought that's who you were, but it turns out that you were pretending to be as confident as i was. and thanks to my lack of information, and your lack of action, i lost my job. without the money to pay the rent, i had to move in with you.

...now that i think about it, that all was probably part of your plan, you dirty bastard. you never did help me with job searching. word of mouth spread stories of my "crime" like a disease. i was blacklisted. you had the evidence to clear my name, but you didn't do it. when you finally told me, it's no wonder that i snapped. i had finally secured a job, so i moved out. i had enough of you for the time being, so i decided to "take a break" for a few weeks.

i lived on my own, in a tiny apartment barely half the size of my previous one. it was all i could afford on my new salary. i became a shell of who i used to be. avoiding any socialization, hiding from friends... well, i had no friends to hide from. they all turned on me after hearing these stories. they made up more, and suddenly i was this bitch who stole and cheated and ate puppies.

none of them were friends anyway, as i learned. especially not you. through all of this, you didn't even call me. and then i visited you. i knocked on your door and Julie from Technical Support answered. she was your new girlfriend. you had always eyed her. no doubt you went after her the day after i left your place. oh yeah, i burned quite a few bridges during that year. none of those people were worth staying with, anyway. back-stabbers. creatures who thrived off gossip and stories, not caring who's lives they chewed up and spat out to get their entertainment. reality was just one big soap opera for them to watch.

i kept my job, working during the day and living an alternate-life during the night. a group of us defaced corporate buildings, leaving anti-capitalist messages. we would plan for nights, making sure that we had alternate plans for everything, from a guard dog to a SWAT team. we started quite a few riots, smashing windows and getting other people to steal and destroy. we were the match that lit the bonfire. it's amazing what people will do if you give them the "permission".
the group members used an alias. mine was Abandoned: both because of what you and my friends did and because of a plan that left me as a decoy to let everyone else evade the police. i was able to slip away flawlessly because of another group member, known as Levy. i won't tell you his real name. that's only for me to know.

after meeting him, i realized something. i had always blamed myself for the things that happened. i thought something had gone wrong in our relationship because of what i had done... because of who i was. i thought that i was unable to hold a steady relationship. i've been with Levy for a year an a half -- twice as long as we were together before The Incident. we haven't had a single big fight. it never escalates to that. we take care of problems when they first show up, not after they blow up and destroy things.
so it was you. it was completely you. okay, maybe i'm pushing it... but a good chunk of it was your fault. after all, i heard that you and Julie from Tech Support only lasted a week. and then you dated Kisa from the Mailroom. for 9 days. and then you fucked Shaina the Secretary. you must be desperate to move on to Shaina. she fucks anyone who will slide her a twenty. that's how she keeps her job: she doesn't charge the Area Manager.

for some reason, i visited your apartment... but you were evicted. you lost your job after pissing off the Area Manager... that filthy old man. "chauvinist" doesn't do him justice. neither does "misogynist". either way, you shouldn't have fucked Shaina the Secretary without his permission. he thinks he owns her.

a thought kept going through my head. what Levy told me. it was you, not me. after realizing that, it was like a huge weight was lifted form me. like the shackles chained onto me the day i was framed were finally removed and locked onto the proper prisoner: you. and yet... i felt guilty. so i decided to find you again, to reconcile. at least get some closure on what happened after that hasty departure of mine. i kept trying to track you down. your old apartment landlord told me where you moved, i looked there. the apartment led to a workplace, which lead to another workplace, to another apartment... you moved a lot. it must have been a rough while for you, rougher than my year after The Incident. you deserved it, you maggot.

and then i finally found you. the last place you had lived was a run-down apartment... barely an apartment. a bedroom, a kitchen infested with roaches and rats, and a bathroom where raw sewage backed up. it was too much, even for you. the landlord told me the story. he showed me the hole in the wall where the bullet hit after it went through your head. he showed me where the bloodstains were on the underside of the mattress where you decided to end your life. and he gave me a box of all of the personal belongings you had.

i went through the box. somehow, knowing you were dead meant that you didn't really have any privacy anymore. after all, it's not like you would notice. i quickly sifted through the photos, the letters, the trinkets... you kept so many of our things. that stupid photo you took of me the beach, after you pushed me into the wet sand. the ticket stubs from our first movie. the Toyota logo that you ripped from the hood from my car after you totaled it... i was so scared when i heard of that accident. i rushed to the hospital and was relieved to see that you only had a broken arm and bad bruising. after i shared the news of your death, Julie from Tech finally came out and told me where you were going. you were rushing to her place so you could fuck her and then rush home before i got back. it wasn't the first time. you and Julie started an affair 3 months into our relationship. it was only logical for you two to get together "for real" after i left.

when i got home, i immediately tore through your box. under the objects from our lives together, there were the same things from the lives that you and Julie shared. and three other women. i recognized one as the new girl who replaced me at work. well, not really "replace", since everyone below me moved up and she filled in the bottom rung. she was barely 20, and you went out with her. no doubt that she did it to further her career. only i was stupid enough to be with you for a relationship. everyone else used you for a promotion or for good sex. i can't believe that i didn't realize that until i went through this stupid box of memories. well, you can have it back. take it to hell with you.

i placed the box on his grave and lit a match. i stood silently as the flames engulfed the box. with each incinerated item, it purged a bad memory. one after another, the burning photos and letters erased him from my life.
i glanced at my watch. i had spent half an hour talking to his silent grave. it had felt like a lifetime, reliving the years of pain instead of discussing them.
standing before the smoldering pile of ashes, i spat onto the last glowing embers. stamping them out with my shoe, i turned and walked to the car where Levy waited for me.