Daily Prompt: Bottle

via Daily Prompt: Bottle

Jeanie sat down at the table, pen and paper in hand, determined to rid herself of the guilt so festered up inside.  Her words came out broken, fragmented at best, as putting a grey world of feelings into concrete black and white words seemed impossible to do fluidly, so she just began:
     If I could write a letter,

          on a magic piece of paper

     That would erase all the mistakes I’ve made,

          I’d turn them right into vapor…

Yes.  That felt good.  She dreamed about what her body would feel like if she could magically find a way to dispel the guilt and shame that filled every crack in her body.  The pains seemed to be the glue that held her together, and she couldn’t imagine being a fun loving extrovert never worried to make a mistake.   She attempted to write again:

I’d first describe the time,

     that I screamed out an exes name,

Inhibitions released in the throes of passion,

     No one but myself to blame.

   

To this day I still filter my screams,

     Now whispers are all I exclaim,

I’d like to send this pain high in the sky,

    To the stratosphere it would end in flame.

She wished it was so easy.  To find the magic paper and send her shames up to disintegrate in the atmosphere, never to be seen or felt again, to release herself of the burden, of knowing she slipped something so hurtful at such an intimate time.  It slipped out so accidentally she had always been afraid it would happen again.  Maybe she wasn’t meant to be an extrovert, or maybe extroverts bore the pain as deeply, and possibly more often?  She would stick to this letter that she would burn as soon as it was finished, and hope to find a way to make peace with her past.

I’d then describe the time,

     When I was all too honest with my thoughts.

I told him what I thought of this,

     Without care I took my shots.

 

 When he didn’t agree 

        with what I had to say,

 I blew up inside, I unleashed the bomb,

     My words radioactive decay.

 

I had seen the pain

     That so quickly reached his eyes.

I wish I could take that shame,

     fill it with helium, and watch it reach the skies.

She let her pen continue the fragmented, disgusting thoughts.  Mentally reliving the pain, her body craving relief, knowing she was the only one that deserved these pains yet wishing to free herself of it.

I wish that it had happened,

     with Mr. Much Too Wrong.

But much to my dismay (or relief)?

     To this day he’s still my love song.

 

Somehow on that day,

     When I blew up on massive scale,

He somehow saw a light in me,

     with the mighty fortress within me so derailed.

 

I let him see me clearly, 

     I let down my well constructed walls,

Hiding the image of great, showing him all my scars

     Instead of running for the hills, he saw some magnificent; among the yuck he saw stars.

 

Now that we are married,

     I try not to bottle it up inside.

The things that I like to hide away

     tear me up from within and just eat me alive.

 

I try to break through the walls

     That I’ve so carefully crafted

and share my thoughts with abandon,

(though now cloaked with care),  our lives ahead of us redrafted.

 

Yes, I’d like to write a letter,

     on a magic piece of paper

That would erase all the mistakes I’ve made,

     I’d turn them right into vapor…

 

But if bearing the agony

     and feeling the pain

Led me to you, to us, and this love,

     Then I’d bear it freely for all eternity, and weather this love filled hurricane.

She set her pen down.  Yes, she had come full circle.  She still wished she hadn’t said or done some of the many humiliating acts of her past, but she felt confidence in her man, that he would take the bad with the good and love her just the same.  It made her feel so vulnerable, but also so protected and loved.

She had matured and she now thought before she spoke, she thought with a smile.  But sometimes the anxiety and fears still welled up inside, daring her to take a risk and daring her to humiliate herself in equal measure.

She would always be Jeanie, and she was certain to make mistakes in the future, but she tried to remember the forgiveness given to her when she fought with the love of her life.  If he could take her ugly, she could take his.  Instead of spouting anger in her rage, she decided she would now bottle it up, and  toss it to sea, letting the hurricane wash it away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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