Monday, June 2, 2014

humans at their worst.

I want to get into a physical fight with you.

Hopefully it starts at a bar around closing time. Yeah. We should both be drunk. I’ll make a snippy comment and your entire demeanor will change as you say “Whatever” to me. Maybe you’ll leave, walk out the door without waiting for me. I’ll stride after you in the dark, yelling behind you until I catch up.

Maybe we’ll stop for a moment to really get into each other’s faces on the gum-stained sidewalk. Our expressions will be hideous, but it’ll be too dark to really see each other clearly. We’ll both start piling our complaints into the kitchen sink of our problems. They’ll get bigger and bigger because we’ll both to trying to be the one to hurt the other more. A race to the bottom in a sense.

I'll stalk off and you’ll pretend you’re not going to follow me, but you have no other place to go and I know it, so you’ll be forced to tail me. I won that one.

When we get home, I’ll leave the door wide open to let you know I knew you’d need me. That you had to come home. And then I’ll start slamming things around. Probably in the kitchen. I’ll be fuming to myself under my breath at you, but I’ll make sure it’s loud enough for you to catch the obscenities. My complaints will be boiled down to a string of insults at this point because I’m feeling pretty void of reasoning right now.

You’ll say something, maybe my name repeatedly, but I’m too wound up so I’ll just go on cursing and ignore you.  I think now you’ll grab my wrist to try to get my attention. I’ll rip my arm away violently and slap your face with my other hand. Not really hard, but the look on your face will be priceless.

We’re at the point of no return, dear. 

This is when things get really ugly. You’re going to make yourself as big as possible, really puff up your size for intimidation. Scare me, stand over me. Get closer and closer, menacingly. I think you should shove me, just a quick push, when I refuse to back down from your ominous advance. I’m probably drunk enough that fear isn’t even part of my repertoire anymore.  I’ll stumble backward into the wall and slide to the ground when you shove me. It’ll surprise both of us.

My eyes might well up with tears. But I’m not really sad, I’m furious. So when your eyes soften a little and you reach down and grab my arm to help me back up, I’m going to sink my teeth into the back of your hand. I’ll barely break the skin before you wrench your injured limb upward to get away, directly into my nose. My head will hit the wall behind me and I’ll shake it back and forth a few times, out of instinct, to get my bearings back.

I’m going to launch myself at you now. My arms are going to flap desperately and as powerfully as possible, as if I’m taking flight. I’ll be pounding on your chest and arms in perfect rhythm. At first you won’t know what to do, until I bring my knee into your crotch, hard. You’ll get a handful of my hair on the way down. You’re going to yank me down to the ground and pin my limbs down under you.

Did I mention that my nose is bleeding? Because it really is.

There’s a fair amount of blood on both of us. You’re still pinning my head to the ground with your grip on my hair. The instant our eyes meet, I’m going to spit in your face.

We’re both red-hot angry.

You release me now, swipe my face hard, then wipe your face and stand up. You walk away from me, punch the wall to the left of the door. We haven’t spoken a word to each since our fight got physical. You open the front door, slam it as hard as you can, twice, then walk through the threshold.

You will pull the door silently shut behind you without so much as a backward glance. I'll scream ‘FUCK YOU’ at the closed door and then strain to hear if you’re walking down the hallway for several seconds. I’ll run to the door and fling it open while wiping my nose. Blood is everywhere. I’ll rush out the door and be struck dumb to see you sitting against the wall next to the door with your head in your hands.

You didn't leave.

We’re both breathing hard, practically gasping for air. I’ll crouch down in front of you. And reach for your arms. When we meet eyes, I give you a small shrug. You'll know what it means. You’ll reach up and wipe some bloody snot off of my face. We'll look at each other for a long time.

Our pulses are slowing.

We'll hold hands, facing each other as we stand in unison. I will fall into your chest now, and you’ll fold your arms around me and kiss the top of my head. You'll rest your face in my hair as we stand there.

Eventually we’ll walk back into the apartment. It’s a nice apartment, really, minus the fist-sized hole in the wall and the broken dishes. We won’t say a word to each other as we take off our clothes and climb into bed, clinging to each other for dear life.

We've probably said enough anyway.