I was sitting on a bed
A bed in a room that was not mine
It was a kind of classic
Furniture of whitewashed wood
Wicker here and there
A hand quilted bed spread
A patterned carpet hanging on the wall
A tv stand with vcr shelves
The walls were crème
A runner along the ceiling had floral patterns repeating every few feet
Clothes littered the floor, dirty and clean
A mess, but I didn’t mind
Because the company was a beautiful girl
Her hair was tied up in a pony tail
She had no makeup on
Just pajamas and chapstick
It was a bed where I’d spent many nights
And many fights
I sat up against the wall
She sat against a different wall
I wasn’t holding her
Our hands did not touch
Her eyes fixated on the show she was watching
It was about women who had murdered their husbands
True crime shows
I was testing us
Being adversarial
Not being cuddly and seeing if she cared
Which of course she didn’t give a shit
It was no use talking
She’d get irritated
She was always getting irritated
Sometimes, I could make her smile
Sometimes
Mostly, I just made her mad
I looked at her blonde hair
The gray middle school gym shirt she still fit in
Her name written in a child’s hand
Sharpie that would fade but never disappear
I sighed
Recollections of happy times filled my mind
Before we were dazed
Before she stopped giving a shit
I looked at the slope of her nose
The curve of her jawline
I remembered what it looked like when it was smiling
When it was laughing
When it was telling me a secret
But it’d been so long since I’d seen her jawline reflect anything but grim
No smile
Not even a frown
Just
There
Curling at the edges when she was getting upset
But
Even then
She couldn’t bring herself to care
Couldn’t bring herself to care more than getting me to shut up
Stopping my voice
Halting my inquisitions
I tried to remember why I loved her
What it was that kept me going
And I realized
I liked the fights
I loved the way she hated me
I yearned for her to yell
To scream
I missed the accusations
I missed the altercations
I missed it being my fault
And then I had a doubt
Could we survive if we were just… happy?
$title =
Happy
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