So, I'm once again part of the Twilight25 challenge. Check out the link in my profile so you can read everyone's entries.
Thank you to Kiriny13 for helping me!
The Twilight Twenty-Five
Pen name: Cass189
Definition of Bitter:
1. Having or being a taste that is sharp, acrid, and unpleasant.
2. Causing a sharply unpleasant, painful, or stinging sensation; harsh: enveloped in bitter cold; a bitter wind.
3. Difficult or distasteful to accept, admit, or bear: the bitter truth; bitter sorrow.
4. Proceeding from or exhibiting strong animosity: a bitter struggle; bitter foes.
5. Resulting from or expressive of severe grief, anguish, or disappointment: cried bitter tears.
6. Marked by resentment or cynicism:
I closed my eyes for a second, enjoying the last remains of pleasure still coursing through my body, ran my fingers through my hair and then reached for her, realizing I could no longer touch her.
As always, she had already distanced herself from me and there was nothing I could do to close the distance between us.
I watched from my place in bed as she carefully got up, collected her clothes that were scattered on the bedroom floor and quickly dressed herself without so much as a word or a quick glance in my direction.
I knew she wouldn't say anything. She never did, after all. In her defense, I guess she just didn't know what to say.
It was a very well rehearsed routine, the one we shared every week.
After she had what she wanted from me – what I was always more than willing to give her despite everything I knew – she retracted back to her shell, not saying anything or even looking directly at me.
While we made love, while we were in the throes of passion, it was different. She wasn't cold then.
She gave herself completely to me then, she was responsive, eager to pleasure and to let herself be pleased and she allowed me to, for a short time, see who she truly was and what she really wanted.
When we were just a mess of tangled limbs, moving together in unison and not caring about anything else, I knew that what she wanted was to stay with me.
When we were done, however, everything invariably changed…
It was almost as if after the lovemaking was over, the spell cast between us was broken and she no longer felt anything for me. It was as if she no longer wanted me…
But I knew she did. Why else would she come back every time?
And so, after we reached our peaks, she would put some distance between us and get up. She quickly dressed herself and left just like that.
And every time she left without looking back at least once, without any hesitation or indication she wanted to stay and that it pained her to leave me, I was left with a sour taste in my mouth. A direct contrast from her sweet kisses that warmed my whole body and soul and that made me fall deeper in love with her every time.
Every time she left after we were together, with no visible guilt for leaving me behind just like that, I hated myself a little more.
I hated myself for not being able to resist her. Her touch, her smile and the sweet nothings she always whispered in my ear.
When she left, I was bitter. I was angry and I was even sad because the fact she wouldn't stay was the perfect reminder that she didn't belong to me. She wasn't mine and she would never truly be because I was simply too late.
She was already his…
After she left, I often stood in bed wondering who she was when she was with him. How did she react to him? Did she smile and laugh? Was she as responsive to him as she was with me? Did he make her happy? Did she truly love him? And if she did, why did she feel the need to come meet me every week, month after month? Did he know about our clandestine meetings? No, I was sure he didn't.
I didn't know much about him, but what I knew was enough to deduce he wouldn't deal well with the knowledge that the woman he loved was seeing someone else behind his back.
I wondered if he loved her, as well. Did he love her like I did? Did he love her so much he couldn't deny her, couldn't deny her pleading looks even though he knew it was wrong to be with her that it would only hurt more after?
I doubted he did. I doubted he was able to feel so deeply about someone. He had simply gotten lucky. He reached Bella before I did and for that, for taking my only chance of being happy away from me, I hated him…
He didn't know the wonderful woman he had. He couldn't know! If he did, he would truly take care of her. He would cherish her so much, she wouldn't feel the need to be with another man. She wouldn't have to find comfort in someone else's arms.
I could drive myself crazy with so many unanswered questions and possibilities. There was always so much doubt, confusion and contradicting emotions mixed inside of me, that I was often left feeling rough around the edges.
I was sure that to most people who saw me and knew me, I looked lost, discontent and even bitter these days. The truth was, I was bitter! How could I not be? I couldn't be with the woman I loved, after all.
Of all the questions constantly running through my head and plaguing me during the time she wasn't with me, there was a particular one I desperately needed to know the answer to. None of the others mattered and would be easy forgotten if I could just have the answer to that one question.
Why did Bella look so bitter herself? What made her like that?
I knew something had happened to her in the past. Something she had never told me about, something I was sure only a few people knew about and that had changed her forever. Whatever happened to her, made her give up on something she wanted desperately, it made her need him badly.
If she would only open herself up to me – if she told me everything – maybe I could find a way of changing everything, maybe I could fix everything that was wrong and we could be able to find a way of being happy together.
I could change our lives and make her happy. I knew I could.