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bitter.
"I miss you, sometimes. When it's late and I'm by myself. I shouldn't have called, but you didn't pick up, so I guess it's fine,” her small voice whispered through the phone.
She sighed, the exhalation barely audible over the hissing white noise in the background.
“Sometimes I wish I’d fought for you harder. A lot of times, actually. But I get it, you know? I’ve had to live with myself since the day I was born. If I could escape myself, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Spencer wished Marlee had fought for them. All they’d needed was clear communication.
“I’m sorry for calling out of the blue like this. I don’t deserve your time, but I impose myself in it anyway. Classic me.”
Reverting to self-deprecation to hide her true feelings - classic Marlee. Spencer hadn’t heard that phrase before dating Marlee, but they still used it every other day.
“Maybe I knew, subconsciously, that you wouldn’t pick up. Maybe that’s why I finally called… Spencer, I’m - I’m not great.”
Understatement of the century.
“I never imagined it would turn out like this,” she confessed with a trembling voice. “It arrives so suddenly, the bitterness inside you.”
A pause. A loud rustling blared through the phone speakers as she assumedly readjusted her grip on the device. When she spoke again, her whisper boomed.
“Well, actually it builds over a long time. Days that turn into weeks, months, and years, until you don’t recognise your inner self over the plague of bitterness residing inside. It builds so gradually that it feels like it happened overnight. It’s unnerving.”
The sound of cars drifted faintly through the air in between her heavy breaths.
“Anyway, I snapped at my kids today at work. It was unnecessarily and unfairly biting. When I looked inwards to try and figure out what the fuck stemmed that reaction, I was overwhelmed by the bitterness festering inside me. Not at them! Not at anyone other than myself, really, but it was overwhelming and terrifying.”
“I fear I no longer exist. I’m scared that the bitterness is all that is left. All I’ll be remembered for. All my stupid existence has equated to. I haven’t felt alive in a long time, but I lived in blissful ignorance until today. No matter how hard I try, I can’t ‘un-know’ the rotten core that resides inside me.”
“Existing shouldn’t be this difficult, Spencer. And the thing is, objectively, I realise I’ve lived a very privileged life. This fact just makes me feel even more guilty for failing so miserably at life and complaining about it… I’m a waste of oxygen. Of carbon. Of time.”
It was now that tears fell from Spencer. No matter how many times they listened to the voicemail. Their broken voice whispered along with Marlee’s rising hysteria.
“Sometimes I find myself wishing I don’t wake up in the morning. That my life energy is returned to the universe to someone or something who will actually make something of themselves. Maybe that’s why I called you, knowing you wouldn’t pick up. I can say I tried. I can say my attempt to reach out failed. I’m sorry to leave this burden on you. I love you, you know? Loved, I guess. Alas, the bitterness has overtaken me. I’d be lying if I said I would have regretted leaving in such a selfish way - hurt memories lingering. At least I’ll be remembered.”
The message cut off there.
Spencer had let the missed call notification sit unopened at the top of their notification bar for a week until they were alerted of Marlee’s death. They’d scrambled frantically to listen to the message then, hyperventilating breaths increasing rapidly. They’d listened to Marlee’s voice on repeat that first night.
And the next.
Mid-grief google searches led to Spencer saving the voice mail, much to the disapproval of others in their life. They’d listened to the message until they could mouth along with the words. They’d even played it in therapy. That had taken a long time to unpack.
Six years later, Spencer regularly forgot about Marlee’s final message until an innocent song or phrase triggered the painful return of memories. In these moments of weakness, they listened to the message again, at least once. Mouthing along with the words silently as they stared at their wall.
They tried desperately to ignore the rising feeling bubbling under the surface, demanding their attention. Under the depersonalisation, the procrastination, the anxiety, the depression, the trauma, lurked a vile and vicious bitterness.
© O.M.A
#shortstory #story #Love&love #heartbroken #Grief #lgbtq #writco #writcoapp #fiction #loss
She sighed, the exhalation barely audible over the hissing white noise in the background.
“Sometimes I wish I’d fought for you harder. A lot of times, actually. But I get it, you know? I’ve had to live with myself since the day I was born. If I could escape myself, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Spencer wished Marlee had fought for them. All they’d needed was clear communication.
“I’m sorry for calling out of the blue like this. I don’t deserve your time, but I impose myself in it anyway. Classic me.”
Reverting to self-deprecation to hide her true feelings - classic Marlee. Spencer hadn’t heard that phrase before dating Marlee, but they still used it every other day.
“Maybe I knew, subconsciously, that you wouldn’t pick up. Maybe that’s why I finally called… Spencer, I’m - I’m not great.”
Understatement of the century.
“I never imagined it would turn out like this,” she confessed with a trembling voice. “It arrives so suddenly, the bitterness inside you.”
A pause. A loud rustling blared through the phone speakers as she assumedly readjusted her grip on the device. When she spoke again, her whisper boomed.
“Well, actually it builds over a long time. Days that turn into weeks, months, and years, until you don’t recognise your inner self over the plague of bitterness residing inside. It builds so gradually that it feels like it happened overnight. It’s unnerving.”
The sound of cars drifted faintly through the air in between her heavy breaths.
“Anyway, I snapped at my kids today at work. It was unnecessarily and unfairly biting. When I looked inwards to try and figure out what the fuck stemmed that reaction, I was overwhelmed by the bitterness festering inside me. Not at them! Not at anyone other than myself, really, but it was overwhelming and terrifying.”
“I fear I no longer exist. I’m scared that the bitterness is all that is left. All I’ll be remembered for. All my stupid existence has equated to. I haven’t felt alive in a long time, but I lived in blissful ignorance until today. No matter how hard I try, I can’t ‘un-know’ the rotten core that resides inside me.”
“Existing shouldn’t be this difficult, Spencer. And the thing is, objectively, I realise I’ve lived a very privileged life. This fact just makes me feel even more guilty for failing so miserably at life and complaining about it… I’m a waste of oxygen. Of carbon. Of time.”
It was now that tears fell from Spencer. No matter how many times they listened to the voicemail. Their broken voice whispered along with Marlee’s rising hysteria.
“Sometimes I find myself wishing I don’t wake up in the morning. That my life energy is returned to the universe to someone or something who will actually make something of themselves. Maybe that’s why I called you, knowing you wouldn’t pick up. I can say I tried. I can say my attempt to reach out failed. I’m sorry to leave this burden on you. I love you, you know? Loved, I guess. Alas, the bitterness has overtaken me. I’d be lying if I said I would have regretted leaving in such a selfish way - hurt memories lingering. At least I’ll be remembered.”
The message cut off there.
Spencer had let the missed call notification sit unopened at the top of their notification bar for a week until they were alerted of Marlee’s death. They’d scrambled frantically to listen to the message then, hyperventilating breaths increasing rapidly. They’d listened to Marlee’s voice on repeat that first night.
And the next.
Mid-grief google searches led to Spencer saving the voice mail, much to the disapproval of others in their life. They’d listened to the message until they could mouth along with the words. They’d even played it in therapy. That had taken a long time to unpack.
Six years later, Spencer regularly forgot about Marlee’s final message until an innocent song or phrase triggered the painful return of memories. In these moments of weakness, they listened to the message again, at least once. Mouthing along with the words silently as they stared at their wall.
They tried desperately to ignore the rising feeling bubbling under the surface, demanding their attention. Under the depersonalisation, the procrastination, the anxiety, the depression, the trauma, lurked a vile and vicious bitterness.
© O.M.A
#shortstory #story #Love&love #heartbroken #Grief #lgbtq #writco #writcoapp #fiction #loss
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