Date:         Sun, 19 Jan 1997 15:40:26 -0800
Subject:      SUB: Valentine's Contest: "Why?": Short Story

There's still time to send your entry! Check out
http://web.mit.edu/mbarker/www/val97/val.html for details.

Please reserve all critiques on contest entries until after Valentine's
Day!
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"Why?"


Why?  Why now?  After all this time?  After all this heartache?  Will you
just answer that for me, please?

Why?  That's all I want to know.

Why do you even mention this to me?  Are you trying to purge your soul,
seek forgiveness, open a door?  Will the utterance of the words release
your demons or bring about some desirous end for you?

Do you think I want to hear it?  Well, I don't.

At one time I thought I would. I used to tell myself, years ago, that one
day you'd do this and it would give me great satisfaction. Now that day has
come and I find it has no meaning at all. Absolutely none. It doesn't move
me. It just makes me wonder why.

Where was your undying love when I really needed it?  When I was desperate
for it?  When I prayed for it to be there?  You had plenty to give, but not
even one tiny piece had my name on it back then. You spread your love
around to all the others while my heart crumbled, shattered, crashed and
burned.

Picking up the pieces. Going on without you. Searching for all the
scattered remains of my life. Rising every morning and forcing myself
through the days, forcing the brain to concentrate on something else,
anything else. Crawling through space and time, millisecond by millisecond,
each millisecond stretching into days, months, years.

Agonized by your absence. Grateful for it in the same breath. Freed by it,
imprisoned by it. Did you know that it took almost a year just to repair my
aura?  To get rid of that huge black hole that formed in the center of my
being when you left? One year. One whole year just for that. Then and only
then could I start reparations on the rest of me.

One year under my belt, then two. Still hating myself for being such a
fool.  Angry with you, angry with me, angry with all we had been together.
Years three, four and five slipped by before I was able to stop waking from
my slumber, hoping that muffled sound in the night was you coming through
the door. Before every moment wasn't spent with you in the back of my mind.
Years six and seven vanished as I finally gave up the anger and forgave
myself for loving you when you played me for a fool so openly, so
callously.

Working, always working. Filling my hours, cramming every corner with
activity, people, places. Learning new things. Having new experiences.
Starting from scratch, building a new foundation. No time for romance. No
inclination for it, either.

And now this.

"Be My Valentine," the card implores. "I can't live without your love."



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Michelle
winebird@inreach.com