Aha! It’s that time again. I just got in bed and closed my eyes. But she’s all I see. She’s all I remember. She’s everything I think of and tonight, like the seven demons brought by the one who left, she’s brought all her seventy and one with her. She’s come with the very essence of the term evil. Her and Eve are definitely peas in a pod, add a touch of the Countess Elizabeth Bathory and the party is on full swing.
Well… My Annabeth was everything beautiful in a woman. Or at least shining grey doe eyes and jet black hair, flawless skin and milk white teeth, ample bossom and a bright future behind her protected by the best hip structure would give that impression. She spoke beautifully and skillfully.
I met her in primary school and was smitten. She made my days bright and everytime she smiled, my world lit up. Her laughter always made me feel as though I was floating. Two years later, she still was the love of my life. She still is. Annabeth asked whether I ate and how I slept, why I didn’t finish my doses and why I couldn’t sleep. Annabeth knew the hell I faced
Annabeth promised she’d never leave, she wasn’t like my mama. She was perfect.
Fast forward and we’re in high school. My Annabeth said it wasn’t me, it was her. That she needed to work on herself, that she would end up hurting me. That I was too dependent on our love, we had to part to endure I knew there’s life after her. I was enamoured by how much she always thought of me. After a few months, I grovelled and begged, I was unhappy without her. We got back on track.
Then she needed to concentrate on her studies and constantly worrying about me was weighing her down. Her father also didn’t approve. Or at least that’s what she said. So again, the train stopped. Six months down the line, she mistakenly texted me, so again I grovelled and begged. Back on track.
Then came the biggest blow yet. She loved my best friend. And because she’d cheated, she didn’t deserve me. I was too good for her. I deserved better. She was guilty. So again, the train stopped. I cried and snorted and drank myself silly. But she wouldn’t badge.
A year later we met in town. She’d added weighed and looked beautiful. But her eyes were hollow and sad. I bought her coffee. He’d beaten her when she admitted the child wasn’t his. I had a child, a son. She didn’t know how to tell me. She’d destroyed our bond and couldn’t face me. Once again, we got back on track. Like a moth attracted to light, she was everything I craved. And this time, we were trying for our son. He looked like her maternal grandmother’s sister, so she said.
The first shoe dropped when I came home to find my previous best friend in our bedroom and her in the shower. Our son was crying in his cot. I picked him up, went to feed him. Soon he left, I looked at her. He was chasing the rat she’d seen in the bathroom and somehow he fell into the water and had to remove his clothes, hence his nakedness when I arrived. He’d come to apologize to me, apparently.
The other shoe soon dropped half a year later when I went to a month long trip abroad and came back to find her on her last month of pregnancy. Apparently, some bumps look smaller than normal in their early stages. Who was I to complain when I wasn’t the one carrying the baby. Further questions opened a tornado of tears and flying shoes. That I didn’t trust her and was looking for a way out, it was better if we gave each other some space. So the train stopped again.
The final blow came merely a month after getting back together, again. I found my previous best friend and world’s champion rat killer outside my house patiently waiting as his driver packed our stuff as my Annabeth sat at the back with our two boys. “No offence hunny, a girl’s gotta feed herself and her babies. You just aren’t doing it for me anymore. Then he with so much mirth and contempt spoke. Bye!” I couldn’t breathe. “Oh, and by the way, here’s a warning. You can’t come near my family. Thank you for taking care of my girl and our boys.”
I open my eyes to find tears in them. It’s been six years now. And a hundred and something lays. Mercy, Diana, Lynn… I lost count at five. They all left bearing a mark. See, I see them all and the pain is rekindled. The hurt, the agony. Because I still crave for my Annabeth. I want my Annabeth.
My phone chimes beside me. My eyes light up. Finally! The train is back on track, again. Behold, fine ladies and gentlemen, my sweet agony, the love of my life and my third damnation.
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