Friday, June 7, 2013

The Ex's Visit

Note: This is fiction. I didn't write it. This is from Aparador Prince . Comments are appreciated. :)
Hey, I dropped by your pad earlier. Since I still have your duplicate keys, I didn't knock - or maybe I was just too comfortable to come in without knocking. I wanted it to be a surprise but I wasn't able to see you there, it was foolish of me to visit at one in the morning after all. When was the last time I went here? Has it been weeks?

I walked past your shoerack. I can still remember the times when you'd come home from work and leave your shoes on the doorway and whenever I put them on the rack, you'd say that it's just a waste of time since you'll be using it again tomorrow. I really don't know why you make small things complicated. We were always bickering about things which are nonsense. Just like the time when I used your sneakers, I apologized but you were very furious so I just kept quiet. I'm happy we got over that fight, though.

Your living room is still a mess, just like the last time I saw it. Soiled clothes are scattered everywere, socks covering picture frames. Pictures of you receiving all those company recognitions. Weren't you the overachiever, the one with high hopes? More often than not, too high that you disregard other people. You hated people who doesn't excel in any field, even calling them stupid, or worthless. You even called me stupid once, when I asked you if troublesome is a noun or an adjective. To be honest, I still don't know the answer.

I planned to tidy up your living room, but I remembered you liked it the way it is. I often reminded you to clean but you said you were busy with all your endeavors. I tried to clean up once, but you got mad and said I have no right to meddle with your things, and make decisions as I please. I'm not sure if you really meant that. I hope not.

Oh, I peeked at your bedroom too. It was almost twice as messy as your living room. Perfume bottles scattered around, even more soiled clothes. That special place. The sacred part of the house. The place where I caught you fooling around with another man. And another. And some more men. You said it wouldn't happen again - but it did - more than I could remember. I got over it, though. I actually want to know how you've been faring in that field.

I was about to step out of the loft when I remembered to check the kitchen. It was the messiest part of the house, I tell you. Condiments spilled and dried up in the table. Broken wine bottles, pots and cauldrons on the floor. Haven't you washed the dishes for weeks?

The huge brawl that we had before I left the house passed through my mind. I can't remember how or why it happened, but it was the first time I snapped back. You were really mad that your hit me with a pan, and I threw glasses and mugs in retaliation. That fight was never settled, at least on your part. I'm okay now, totally at peace. How about you?

You always wanted someone who could dance very well, but I wasn't good at dancing. You were frustrated with my flaw that you wished to never talk about it again.

I just realized, we fought a lot, considering the time that we spent together. You always pointed out my flaws. You hated all my weakness when compared to your achievements. Weren't you able to see them when we were still dating? Some of the fights we had ended really bad that we had to endure cuts and bruises, not to mention the broken furniture that became the weapon of choice during the fight. I know you have toyed with the idea of killing me once or twice, or even more than that. But I'm thankful that you never did it.

As for me, I only thought of that once. Call it bad timing, but the only difference is that I acted on it - literally - with a kitchen knife. It was lying on the table and I picked it up without thought. Stabs. More stabs. Twenty-six, to be exact.

I would like you to know that unlike your assumptions that I don't have any talent, I have great interest in art, especially in french curves. Which is why I drew some on your back that night. I danced too - but I used the knife as the main dancer.

I'm sorry I forgot to wash that knife. Was it stainless?

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