War of the Hearts

I'm loaded...don't know where to point this thing. It's a sin, how it hits where it hurts...


I exit my car, head lowered, thinking intently of what I will say to you. I must say something to keep the peace. Can't let this end like this; we have to end this masquerade, heal these wounds that we made.

The past few weeks have been nothing short of a test of wills, excruciating. Your complaints framing my frustration; both encapsulated by disappointment and doubt. How did we get here? I'd like the pain to end, but, certainly not us. If only one of us would relent, put away that ammunition and spare a life. The fire has got to cease.

I hear a car door close at the opposite end of the parking garage. Your sedan is parked 200 ft. north of my car. My muscles clinch and I feel that all too familiar gnaw deep in my gut. I swallow hard and prepare for the impending battle. I am hardened and emboldened by the previous battles of this war. Battle tested and familiar with these trenches; experienced in this kind of warfare. I search my mind for a phrase, sentence or word that could possibly dissipate the need for such combat. Search for the right tone or vocal inflection that will soothe or disarm the militant in you help you remember that you love me. Maybe a quick 'Hi babe’ or 'hey you'. Maybe we are beyond that now. Steel sharpens steel and I am ready.

I keep my eyes trained on you, the focus of a committed warrior stalking the enemy. You have your back to me as I try to study your temperament from the remaining 150 ft. separating us. I look for any clue that would help me stand down, anything that helps me understand what our level of engagement will be. My body is a t attention and ready for whatever is in store, my heart wants nothing more than the peace that we can both bring back to our home. Truth is, I don't know whether you will smile and welcome me to you or if you will turn and unleash the fury and venom you seem to have harvested for me and me only lately. Either way, I will be prepared this time and even ready to strike preemptively if I must.

I can see you place your hands into your winter white designer coat. I remember buying that coat for you for Christmas, you were so happy to receive that gift. If I would have known that it would have made you that happy I would I have bought ten more that day. You pranced around the living room as if you had just won some coat lottery, some fashion raffle. Now you’re thrusting, your arms in and out that thing as if it made you sick to even be wearing it. I strain my eyes and imagination to try and figure out if you are loading up for the war that you fully intend to have with me. Lord knows I wish we could just end this before someone gets hurt worst then we have already hurt each other. One of us must make the peace or someone may not survive this war of attrition.

As I continue to move forward toward you, only 75 ft. from where you are standing. I wonder if I am not being stealth enough. Perhaps you can hear my wing tipped shoes colliding with the concrete in direct path toward you. From 60 ft. away I can see the scowl on your face, though you still haven't looked up to acknowledge me. The once soft glow of your face that was all mines is nowhere to be found. Your lips pursed, forehead furrows and brows raised in utter frustration, I can feel the contempt rising from you like steam from a pot of cooking rice. Still you have not heard or seen me; my combat training has paid off.

I can see your lips moving, though I can't make out a word that you're saying. Perhaps it’s because I am steadying my eye on your right hand inside that wool coat, you're way too fidgety for my liking. I know that this means that your loading up, that you'll turn and have me in the cross hairs no sooner than I can blink, I have seen this before. I cannot let you brandish that all too familiar weapon that slays me, makes me feel less than.

Only 25 ft from you, I reach into my London Fog overcoat where I am wielding a mighty weapon of my own. A weapon filled with enough ammo of frustration, quilt, anger, resentment and hostility that you might not survive the ensuing blast. My pace quickens, only 15 ft away, my eye brows nearly touch as my face hardens and creases line my forehead. You turn and notice me, but it’s too late, I am all over you before you can even digest what's happening. The disgust on your face is quickly replaced with surprise and bewilderment, still no words from your lips, this can only mean that you were thinking the same think as I-Attack first and ask questions later. I grip my weapon with murderous intent, how could I mean so little to you, I gave you everything I had! This time vengeance would be mine. In a flash of light I could see your mouth moving, but I can't make out the words as I have left my feet and all consciousness in an effort to kill as not to be killed. I am attacking and dodging what is sure to be a counter attack at the same time. Besides your probably only reminding me that I left the toilet seat up or forgot to remove the trash.

I hear you say my as my weapon discharges inches from your heart...it's over! I did it; I will never forget the look on your face. Complete shock covers your features and beautiful face softens and relents. Your eyes, so full and round, so clear. A single tear races toward your cheek, your lip quivers and not a trace of blood, but I know you’re mortally wounded.

Your body goes limp and you fall straight away into my arms. You look up at my stunned face. "My God what have I done" I yelp in a guttural manner. It can't be too late, but, the weapon was aimed and I pulled the trigger. Aimed straight for your heart-a direct hit. The weapon unloaded onto you every ounce of angst within me, how could I have done this.

You crumple from my arms and onto the pavement. I lay you down gently as the air barely passes your lips now. I say that "I am sorry", "That I didn't mean it". Intent means little now with the very life seeping from you. "I didn't know what I was doing" I offer, "I thought"... You must have known what I was thinking, why I had acted so heinously toward you. Because without saying a word, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the broken car key within it. I glanced toward your driver side door and saw the other half sticking out of the key hole. The frustration and anger I thought reserved for me was aimed at the key in your hand.

You raise your cupped hands to my face as a sign of forgiveness or at least as one resolution. This is who I had become and this is what we had allowed to become of us. I held you for a half minute or so, rocking back and forth saying to myself "No, no, no". Seconds later, you close your eyes and was lost too me forever. Minutes later, in that very spot in the garage, there was not even a trace of evidence to prove that a crime had been committed, not too mention a war of the hearts!