Maybe it was the way he laughed. Maybe it was that hat. All I know is I was smitten. You don’t hear smitten all that often. Its been replaced by so many other adjectives that smitten has become a word of the past. But that’s what I was. His laugh, smile, eyes, and hat made the perfect package.
I knew right away that he would never be mine. Too many girls prettier than I were jonesing after him, and I just wasn’t that well, forward, about my crush. It wasn’t my style. I’d always been taught to wait for the guy to pursue me, which I knew to be right, but was finding it to be more and more difficult with each passing single day.
I hadn’t been in a relationship since Kenny, at least not a real one. I’d had flings, affairs, and good times, but no relationship. I really wanted to be in a relationship, desired to be, thought I needed to be. But God said no. He had something so much better planned for me. “What is it?” I asked. “Just wait and see My beautiful daughter,” He told me. So I’m waiting, still…
And I’ll continue to wait until…
I can clear Kenny from my head completely. I know that may take a while, but I owe it to the one who loves me to be completely in love with him, whoever that may be. My mom brought him up the other day in a side conversation. We were waiting to buy groceries and she asked what had happened with his family. All of a sudden I got this flutter in my heart that maybe he was back again, but I knew it wasn’t true. People don’t come back from the dead.
I told her they were doing fine, still trying to cope almost two years later. She said it was hard to lose a child, especially the way Kenny’s life ended. No parent should have to go through that, even parents as horrible as Kenny’s.
His mom was good enough. Sometimes I thought Kenny would be fine if his mom were a single mom. She was nice, polite, and most of all liked me more than his previous girlfriends. His dad was a nightmare. Boorish, outdated, and incredibly rude. He expected more from Kenny than any parent should expect from a child, and he made sure Kenny knew he was disappointed. He could have brought home Mother Teresa as his girlfriend and Kenny’s dad still would have been unhappy.
Maybe that’s why Kenny…
Decided it was time to end his life, and shatter mine in the process. People try to say its not my fault. Rationally I know it’s not my fault. My heart still believes he pulled the trigger of that God forsaken .9mm because of me though. I don’t want to believe it, I’m not supposed to, but I do all the same. And only God knows how long I’ll feel this way.
Maybe that is why I can’t find a new boyfriend. Its been 2 years now and I have yet to stay in a relationship longer than a few months, and that’s being optimistic…
I’ll remember that night for the rest of my life though. He said we needed to talk, and since I was still in love with him, I left the current flings house to go talk to Kenny. I was hoping we would work it all out and get back together, but Kenny had other plans. I knocked on the door of his apartment, and he told me to come in. Before I could stop him he shouted “it’s all your fault!” and pulled the trigger…
Two years later, and I can still hear that shot in my head. Two years later, and I can still see the blood spattered all over the wall...
All I remember is dialing 911 and telling the operator what had happened. The people who came after said I was curled up next to Kenny's lifeless body, barely breathing. It took everything I had to not grab that gun and end it right then and there. The only thing that kept me hanging on was the hope that maybe he had missed, maybe it was only a superficial wound and he had passed out from the blood loss. I knew it then it was futile. I couldn't feel him breathing.
I screamed at the cops who came through the door because I didn't want them to take him away. I saw the morgue van outside and knew it was over. All over. The officer said I passed out then, and the next thing I remember was showing up at...
Andrew's house. The officer parked behind me and got out of his car, gun drawn. They weren't sure what I was going to do, if anything. I walked up to the door, knocked and he came out, saw the tears streaming down my face and rushed me inside. He sent his mom out to tell the officer I would be staying here, then took me back to his room and closed the door.
I don't even know why I went to him. We weren't dating, hell we were barely even friends. All we did was play drinking games and have sex. But Andrew was the only person I could think of. I don't even remember how I got there, or how I didn't hit anything or anyone on the way there. God must have been protecting me that night, though I would swear then that it was just dumb luck.
I climbed onto Andrew's bed, curled up in a ball and proceeded to cry for the next four hours, interspersed with trips to the bathroom to puke my guts out. That night was the last time I heard from Andrew. We didn't have sex that night, at least not that I remember. All I know is I was numb. My brain and body refused to function.
Andrew called my mom the next morning and asked her to come pick me up. He said I would have to tell her why. She came as soon as he called and rushed in to get me, anxious to know where her daughter had been all night. I told her what happened and she immediately called my dad to let him know what had happened.
The last two years have been an emotional roller coaster. I've gone from glad Kenny is gone to curled up in the fetal position wishing I would die so that I could be with him. Each day is different, but in a good way. I'm stronger now than I was two years ago, and I'm not afraid to tell people how I feel. If there is one thing I've learned, its you have to communicate your feelings in order to be heard. I can't bottle it up inside and pray to God it goes away, because I know that doesn't work.
The End.
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