SIGNAL - a 20-minute prose exercise

Here’s my 20-minute prose exercise for today. If you’d like to share yours, you can email me here. I’m working on getting a place to share them publicly (anonymously) on here if that’s something you’d like. If not, I’m happy to provide private feedback via email.

Not sure where to start? Read about the project here.

SIGNAL

Hello? Are you there? Can you hear me?

I should have seen the signs. I should have listened to the signal, the one I thought was clear from the start when we met, and you flashed that smile at me. I should have paid more attention.

Years ago, when we were practically still kids, do you remember how it was? We’d sit and people watch. We’d laugh until we cried and couldn’t breathe. We’d dream together when we were awake and love each other all through the night.

Do you know when it went wrong? With all this time on my hands, I’ve been thinking it over and I think maybe I do. It started out with the best of intentions — doesn’t it always? The love blossomed and exploded into a raging wildfire, one we thought we could contain, and yet, here we are. How did it come to this? We took turns taking on the load. We jumped in when the other needed it most. We cried until our eyes went dry. We held each other through the storms.

And then, one day, something happened.

The world went away. There was no contact with anyone anymore, just each other. And as much as we loved that only took us so far. You grew restless; I grew bitter; we great apart.

You moved away. I stayed behind. You found a new spark. I dug more graves.

When we finally reunited, we weren’t the same people we used to be, the ones we were ages before, the ones we were as kids growing up together in the middle of nowhere.

So, here we are, trying to re-ignite the all-consuming forest fire we called love only to find now that it burns different, not better or worse but different. We fell into our old routines, our old coping mechanisms, our old ideas of passion. But the joy… I think maybe it was burned up in that fire. Maybe. But we were still willing to try and find it, weren’t we?

I should have seen the signs that you weren’t mine anymore. The way you looked at me after all those years apart. It was like I was a stranger to you, like you’d forgotten me entirely. But how could you forget me? The one who was there on the sideline? Your shoulder to cry on? I was always there, my love. Even when you thought you loved those other boys and acted on those false passions, I was there. When you were afraid of what your life might become, I pushed some obstacles out of your way. When you couldn’t find work, I made sure you wanted for nothing: the job that changed their mind and hired you, the chance meetings with those that have helped you and your career, the “friends” you outgrew and ghosted you. I’ve been your safety net from the start.

Which is what makes this betrayal all the more heartbreaking. Because here we are in this fortress I built for you, to keep you safe, to make you happy, and all you want to do is leave. To go back to those people that want to use you and abuse you and call it love. They’ll never know love like we do, will they?

But don’t worry, I read your signal loud and clear now. I get it. You enjoy the pain. Your self-worth is so low you don’t give a damn how they treat you. We’ll work through that together, I promise. For now, all I need you to do is trust me. I will take care of everything. I’ll find new friends for you and bring them here, friends that won’t disappoint you. And I won’t ever disappoint you again.

Are you there? You haven’t made a sound this whole time. I’ll send some food down to you soon, my beautiful girl. Life will be better than you can possibly imagine.

I promise.