She was creating this insatiable pit in me, a yawning chasm of need, and even in my haze, I
could see how destructive that would be if I didn’t stop it.
“I don’t like this, I don’t want you to meet with him.”
Her smile stayed but her eyes changed into cold shards of green and brown. I suddenly appreciated what a weapon she would have made in a boardroom or on the arm of a senator. “Honestly? I don’t think it’s any of your business if I do meet with him or not.”
“He’s dangerous, Poppy.”
“You don’t even know him,” she said, removing her hand from mine.
“But I know how dangerous a man can be when he wants a woman he can’t have.”
“Like you?” she said, and the mark was so ruthlessly and perfectly aimed that I nearly staggered back.
“Why are you surprised that I did something nice? Is it because you think I’m some sort of fallen woman?”
“I don’t think you’re a fallen woman,” I said.
“But now you are going to say that we are all fallen sinners in a fallen world.”
“No,” I pronounced carefully. “I was going to say that people who are as smart and attractive as you don’t typically have to cultivate skills like kindness unless they want to. Yes, it surprises me a little.”
And the worst thing was that I knew He wasn’t angry with me. He’d forgiven me before it had even happened, and I didn’t deserve it. I deserved to be punished, a hail of fire from above, bitter waters, an IRS audit, something, anything dammit, because I was a miserable, loathsome, lustful man who’d taken advantage of an emotionally vulnerable woman.
What a wretched man I am.
The realization that I had betrayed God, perhaps more than I’d betrayed the people in this room.
My God, my savior. The recipient of my vehement hatred after Lizzy’s death and also the presence that had patiently awaited my return a few years later. The voice in my dreams that had comforted me, enlightened me,
guided me. The voice that had told me what I needed to do with my life, where I needed to go to find peace.
“I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do, I do not do, but what I hate I do…for I have the desire to do what is right, but I cannot carry it out. What a wretched man I am.”
2- Timothy and Song of Songs (Bible)
Some people have a high emotional threshold — they don't feel things in muted tones. If life feels numb or dull, they subconsciously seek out extremes (emotional or physical) to feel alive. That’s why:
Pain becomes a proof of existence
Passion becomes an anchor to reality
Chaos becomes clarity
This is often seen in people with traits linked to borderline personality disorder (BPD), but also in creative, highly sensitive, or deeply introspective individuals who are not ill — just intense.
I just wanted to sit here at my kitchen table until I died. No, that was a lie. I wanted to do something—run or lift weights or scrub the tile until my hands bled—I wanted penance. Funny how many times I had counseled my flock about the real nature of penance, the real weight of
God’s unconditional love and forgiveness, and my first reaction to sinning was to punish myself.
and I saw the moment she felt it too—that we were fused somehow. Irrevocably and undeniably fused together into something singular and whole.
Fine," I said. "Deal."
He smiled. "Excellent. Now, as a show of good faith, since I've already spent a good chunk of time getting inside your head, I'll give you three questions to try to get inside mine."
The puzzle solver in me wanted to ask what kind of clothes he wore when there was no one around to see him, how many siblings he had, and which one of his parents had turned him into the kind of guy who was a little angry at the world.
But I didn't
People were people, but for better or worse, most days, they were just puzzles to me. Easy puzzles, hard puzzles, crosswords, mind-benders, sudoku. There was always an answer, and I couldn't stop myself from pushing until I found it.
And on it went-good-natured ribbing, family jokes. I played the part, letting their energy infect me, saying what they wanted me to say, smiling the smiles they wanted to see. It was warm and safe and happy -but it wasn't me.
It never was.
I was everyone's problem and nobody's.
Not an easy girl.
Touch my face
run fingers through my strands
like you know the
every story they hold
and recognize that
all I have is
curls that are wild
& messy strands
depicting the fact
that I am not an
easy girl.
Coming to stand by my side, she nudges me with her shoulder and tips her chin to the sunrise. “I know you have a heart of stone, but you gotta
admit that it’s pretty.”
It is, I sign lazily, my eyes on her as she looks back at the view.
My heart isn’t made of stone. It’s filled with poison.
I stay against the wall, my hands behind me, and try to think of everything possible to make her stay. Willingly. I want Olivia to choose me.
Please choose me.
Nobody ever chooses me.
She stands, slips on her shoes, and wipes under her eyes. “I won’t tell anyone I saw you,” she says, her head down. If you let me leave, I’ll forget this ever happened. Don’t be difficult about this, Malachi. I’m leaving one way or another.”
I can’t answer. I just look at the ground as she moves towards me then stops. “Goodbye, Malachi. Please take care of yourself. Please.”
“Society would never accept us.”
I grip the phone in my hand. “Fuck society.” I don’t think my words have ever been clearer than right now. “Fuck everyone against us.”
“You don’t even know how to love properly. Your diagnosis proves that. Why would I give up a marriage for someone who can never feel the same way about me?”
I stay quiet, because she’s right.
My version of love isn’t enough for her—I love her, I do, but how am I supposed to know what’s normal and what’s not? My world revolves around her and always has. And if that’s not a good-enough version of love for her, and I can’t make her happy, then what’s the point?
I had a thing for words and he had them all.
“But si vis amari, ama? ‘If you wish to be loved, love?’ I tried that once.
It didn’t work out so well.” Her voice was bitter.
“Maybe youloved the wrong person.”
Because who wouldn’t love this gorgeous creature? This over-educated,over-sexed woman who oozed intelligence and sensuality? This woman of
white skin and red lips and a brain built for running financial empires?
کوئی پی کے راہ سے بھٹک گیا، کوئی پی کے راہ کو پا گیا
جو سبھی کا ظرف عیاں کرے یہ تیری شراب کا کام ہے
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