The purest one

I open the tap and hold my hands under it until I have enough water. After a few seconds a rusty colored water fills my hands. I splash my face a couple of times.
I look in the mirror and see that my nose still bleeds. A few more water splashes on my face.
Looking around the bathroom I start worrying after I saw the mold on the ceiling and walls and the rusty pipes.
One more water splash and I hold my nose.

“I’m not sorry..” she says leaning on the bathroom door. “I did promise you that I’ll punch you in the nose if you don’t call.”
She crossed her hands and her breasts seemed even bigger under a white but dirty t-shirt. Dirty from paints, oils, graphite dust and who know what else.
That shirt wasn’t long enough to cover entirely her black panties. I completely forgot about the rusty pipes and mold. She was frowning while I looked at her from head to toes. Her dark straight hair covered half of the face and her lips trembled of rage.

I throw myself at her pushing her into the hallway wall and we start kissing. She pushes me away and I almost tripp on a painting but still manage to knock down her brushes from a small table.
“I hate you!” she yells. “You disappear for a year and you want me to act like that didn’t happen?”, and she tries to hit me again.
I catch her hand and pull her towards me. I grab her neck and press tight while looking in her green eyes. Not even now. Not even now I can’t see fear in her eyes.
The only thing I can see is resignation.

I let her go and she starts pushing me again yelling “Coward! Coward! Kill me! You fucking coward!!” I take her in my arms, hold her tight then I throw her on the bed.
I’m over her and we start kissing. She stops and takes her breath but this time whispers “I hate you… I hate you..” and she takes my shirt off.

She is sleeping now. Her black long hair is only covering her neck and shoulders. The sweat on her naked back is glowing in the strong light of the full moon and I still have that salty taste in my mouth.
As beautiful she is her life is tragically worse. She fell asleep telling me stories. Telling me dreams. Telling me hidden thoughts.
She said she felt safe with me. She said “I feel I can say anything to you and you won’t judge me.” She fell asleep smiling.
Not even her smile managed to warm my heart. Knowing that in the morning her smile will disappear and that she won’t see me again for a while didn’t make me feel anything either.

She looks so innocent now. When she was scratching my back with her finger nails and was yelling with her entire breath “Harder!!” “Faster!!” she didn’t look so innocent.
When she was whispering into my ears “I want you deep inside me..” she didn’t look so innocent anymore. When she was playing with my sperm in her mouth she didn’t look so innocent.
She didn’t look so innocent while drinking red whine from the bottle. Sex and red wine. Amazing how alcohol makes everything fun and unforgettable.
“I don’t like tequila. Tequila makes me forget.” she said. “I found this when I was 14 years old with my first boyfriend. He was 21 and he was working as a waiter at an restaurant which held a lot of weddings. He would always came to my place with some kind of alcohol hiding it from my parents. One summer my parents left me home alone while they were visiting some friends. He came over with a bottle of tequila and lemons. That was the night I lost my virginity and I don’t even remember it. I just woke next morning with a terrible headache and the bed sheets full of blood.”

She was sleeping so peaceful now. The way you sleep when you know the one you love watches over you.

I met her 5 years ago on the stairs of the gynecology clinic while I was visiting a friend. She was just staring at the pavement.
When I got out a couple of hours later she was still there. Still staring.
There was something about this one that made me care just enough to ask if she’s OK. She raised her head and like a bullet she jumped in my arms and started crying.
She was 21 and just had her first abortion. Complications, the doctors fault, who knows but reality was that this was also her last one to. “I will never have children..” she whispered to me between tears.

I kiss her on the forehead and whisper “I’m sorry..”. I got up and got dressed. Quietly not to wake her up. I promised her this time I would stay more.
There was a time when I believed in promises. There was a time when given words meant something. There was a time when people to me where more than shadows and dust.
She loved me because I was more fucked up than she was. Sometimes you see so much sadness and suffering that you become a stone and you don’t give a shit about anything anymore.
Life becomes simple again.

Fast forward 2 year later, today, and I find myself with flowers in my hand looking at her picture.
She finally found the courage to actually do it. Damn she looks beautiful in this picture.
While I lay down the flowers near the marble cross I realize I never gave her flowers while she was still breathing.

The sun is warm but the wind blows cold. Autumn is here.