February 2012
13 posts
She filed him under a folder entitled, “Love.”
There his memory could wade in her mind’s sea of repression until his words eroded to reveal their former, true meaning.
For now, her feelings on the matter were unclear and polluted with pride, and so she forced herself to dismiss her softer parts’ weaker demands.
Before, she had filed his letters into a folder entitled, ________. This however became a problem. Seeing his name on her dropdown only encouraged her to reopen old emails and sulk over their forgotten romance.
One day in a defeated fury she deleted the folder and the entirety of all their letters. Within a few days of this rash decision, she painful realized that such a tactic was useless in reducing her spirit’s yearning for him. Fortunately, their correspondence still ensued after the incident, and she was granted a reason to recreate a file where she could store his words. This one was entitled, “Love.”
The title itself was questionable. They both had referred to their experience in love’s name but after relations were all about nearly destroyed, both of them dismissed their earlier conviction.
See the problem was that they were young and restless, and love (real love, for the lack of a better phrase) couldn’t handle the weight of their uncertainty, fears, and anxiety. Both were dominating characters, and both hated what the other could, and did, do. Their introduction to one another birthed a frenzy, which threatened to shatter their previous simple modes of operation.
They had learned that just because you like something doesn’t mean you should own it, and to put it metaphorically, both had bought each other’s heart on false credit.
From her perspective, his credit was handed down to him from his mother, and until that debit was paid, he wouldn’t be able to ever open his heart again to another woman.
From his perspective, she tactfully jumped from bank to bank, making payments off the hearts and wallets of the poor suckers she managed to deceive with her carefree swooning and seemingly endless romantic transfer.
Both were right, as both were mistaken.
