What They Never Told Me

Story Summary: It was then I realized how much I had changed, how much we had changed. As I saw his retreating form, I couldn't help but ask, "When did I stop being your angel?"

Genre: Angst (or my trial at it)

Time Stamp: Written and Put online 5/11/08

Author's Starting Notes: This started out with just some random blob and it's still a random blob just with more words. There are actually two versions of this oneshot thing with the second one having a very odd twist.


Growing up as a privileged youth in Manhattan, I learned lessons that other kids my age didn't. While they learned how to tie their shoes and the importance of personal hygiene, I learned mottos that the heartless, socialites lived by. They'd tell me that the world and everything in it was for sale, if you had the right price. They'd tell me that friendships were just another way of saying business partners. And, most of all, they'd tell me that love was the lowest form of emotion.

In the eyes of the wealthy and fabulous, love is a setback. Without the ever present need for another person, you can take on anything that stands in your way. Anything but yourself, of course. With love comes selflessness and with selflessness, ruthlessness cannot exist and the business world would crash. To preserve the economic structure, it is programmed into children's minds that butterflies in your stomach is a sign to head for the heels. Or at least, for kids like me I guess. There were two lessons that really stuck out of all they told me. One of which was that you are your own worse enemy. My struggle with bulimia as a teen was an example to that. The other, I learned just last week.

For five years, I had been in a loveless marriage to a man who could have easily been replaced with a robot. He never thought for himself and went through the daily functions as blandly as possible. He was going to try and take over some law firm in Indiana. He had left a few days earlier than necessary and I had spent the time in his absence doing nothing but committing adultery. I wasn't a very good wife, or a very good friend. The last night he was gone, I had drunken one too drinks at the bar. Instead of heading off with some stranger, though, I searched for my husband's best friend.

I found him at his home reading the newspaper in the comforting silence of his study. I barged into the room. Disregarding his obvious shock, I came onto him in the most unceremonious manner. I put his hands behind his head using one hand and attacked his pants zipper with the other. He quickly halted my actions by knocking me off his lap. He looked down at me with a look of pure disgust. I was not surprised. He didn't look at me like he used to anymore. Probably because I was no longer the little girl with the coffee-colored ringlets tied with pink satin bows. I had traded in my glittery pens for cold metal, and had used the French manicures to claw my way to the top of the social ladder. Seeing that look in his eyes, though, it snapped something in my cloudy mind. I found myself begging him not to tell anyone about what I had tried to do and all that I had done previously in the past. I didn't need to though. He would never do what I had done to him. He would never betray my trust.

He helped me up from the floor and hailed me a cab. Instead of just dropping me off, he saw to it that I got home, tucking me into my bed when we arrived. As I laid there in the bed, something dawned on me. It was then I realized how much I had changed, how much we had changed. As I saw his retreating form, I couldn't help but ask, "When did I stop being your angel?" And do you want to know the saddest part of it all? He never answered me. He left me in silence, and in that way, I learned something that 'they' never told me.

Silence speaks louder than words.


© Dezi. I own nothing.