... Reunion ...

Nothing in life is black and white. I think that this may be the only universally unchallenged statement ever. I don't necessarily believe that though. I'm more of the school that nothing is every really finished. I don't burn bridges in short, I blow them up and then frantically try to figure out a way to glue that bitch back together. 



I yelled at B over the phone not two weekends ago that he was irreversibly dead to me. That I could never ever speak to him again. And that my heart is more fragile than recently blown glass, and he had broken it with no more than 10 words and that I would never recover from his betrayal and constant cruelty. How dare he exist. How could there be this person so right for me, and not with me. How could he have the audacity to love me and then force me to leave him. Yes, I can be as dramatic as a 16 year old school girl. I reserve the right to do what I want.  But when he called me - all the synapses in my brain fired. This is it I thought. The I'm-sorry-I-was-an-idiot call. I was prepared to listen. My heart strings pumped and wailed as his velvet voice melted over the other side of the phone "bebe" he said, the old pet name, like a siren song calling me home, I was drawn to him in an instant. "Yes, B, what do you want?" I couldn't give it all away in the first second. I had to draw him out. It turns out even assholes who break your heart have feelings. He wanted to see me. 


I would like to say I said no. I would like to say that I told him to go suck on some escargot. But lets be real. You know I didn't. I went. Like a true masochist to the master who holds the whip, I followed yet again, my fragile heart to see the only person capable of creating elation and devastation in a matter of moments. I pressed the old code that was once mine and walked through the dodgy court yard, and into the old apartment. The smell it self was enough to bring me to my knees. When he leaned in to kiss me, I was expecting the normal bise. This was so much more. This was the earth quaking kiss again. The levels me every time. His arms around me. I slipped into that old embrace. And let the sea of forgetfulness carry me away to its endless horizon.


Nothing has been said. I haven't spoken to him since then, while words have been exchange, and promises renewed. I am still apprehensive. Scared to cross the bridge that I have in quick time seemingly repaired. How do you trust someone once the seed of doubt has been sewed. Do you rip up the earth and start fresh? Or do you leave it, as a constant reminder to yourself that you are essentially your own best friend? I certainly don't have the answers to any of these questions.  But, I do know, that if B is willing to come half way across the bridge, then I am willing to go the rest, even if it may creek from time to time.