The Monsters of Love, Society, and Judgment
Love can be so beautiful; yet it can tear you apart at the same time. Ironically, the ones you love and the only ones who can ever leave you hurt, scarred, and broken. Even if that person’s love burns for you, as yours does for his/hers, the world itself can be sabotage. Society tells you who is right or wrong to love—but isn’t that for us to decide?
I awoke. I was laying in my bed, tangled up in a mass of blankets and sheets. I turned my head to look at my alarm clock. “3:00 am exactly,” I sighed to myself. A strange eeriness crept through the darkness. Now disgruntled, I sat up and turned on the small lamp on the shelving next to my bed.
I then laid back down; I felt safer in the light. I began to close my eyes again, but just as I comforted myself, a loud whirring jolted my system. I gasped and flung myself upright. “Incoming Call… William Smith,” read across my blue-lit cell phone screen. I hastily grabbed the device and flipped it open.
“Hello?” I said quietly.
“Sorry,” the voice on the other side was shaky and desperate. “I’m sorry if I woke you. I can’t sleep, and I just needed t hear your voice right now, sweetie.”
“You didn’t wake me, darling,” I assured him, “I can’t sleep either.”
Silence screamed at us.
“I can’t believe it’s already today.” Billy sniffled, obviously holding back tears. “I’m not ready… I won’t make it if I have to go back!”
My mind flashed to several weeks ago. Billy and I were sitting on his grandparent’s front porch. The weather that day was beautiful; however, the mood of the moment was dreadful. “They’re going to make me leave if this Walmart thing doesn’t work out…”
“Why?” I pleaded.
“He never wanted me here in the first place! If it weren’t for Nana, I wouldn't be here with you now. He’s been a jerk to me since day one; he hopes that that will make me leave! But he doesn’t know… He doesn’t understand that all the crap he puts me through is worth it just to be able to see you! He’s just being that way because he thinks that I’ll ruin his reputation.”
“How would you do that?” My voice showed how utterly disgusted I was by that statement.
“He thinks he needs his family to be good Christians since he’s a preacher. He thinks that you and I being together is wrong—you’re so young and all.” Billy clenched his fists, “Selfish bastard! He only cares about himself and how he looks!”
I’d never seen him so angry. That’s the thing to remember here: Billy never gets mad. He’s always laidback in nature and kind of heart. Now here he was, his blood boiling from the fire in his heart.
“Sierra?” his calming, yet sorrowful tone brought me back to the now—he was still in Dundas; I was still sitting in bed. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah…”
“You got quiet.”
“Mm-hmm.” I closed my eyes and pictured his face. I pictured the moment I met him. I pictured all of the times he made me laugh when I wanted to scream and cry. I pictured all the times he held me in his arms and told me he loved me. Then I pictured myself alone. I pictured Billy back in Sevierville. Tears welled up in my eyes; I chocked them back. “You should get some sleep, love.”
“No,” he whimpered.
“It’s a long drive back to Tennessee.”
“…I don’t want to go.”
I stayed silent, trying not to cry.
“Please…” his pleading voice ripped my heart to shreds, “Promise me one thing.”
“What’s that, love?”
“Don’t forget about me.”
I couldn’t hold back anymore. Every emotion inside of me poured from my eyes as a salty liquid. “I’ll never forget you, Billy!” You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me! You’re all I have left that keeps me going each day! I could never forget you, even if I tried…. You’re my world.”
“Oh, sweetie…” I heard him inhale sharply, “I love you so much. Please don’t cry. I’ll be back here as soon as I can.”
Without even saying “Goodbye,” he hung up. I clenched my arms and screamed as loudly as I could. I hoped my head would explode, or I’d have an aneurism, or something! Anything was better than this.
I hushed myself, remembering what time it was. I got up from my bed and picked up a pen and piece of random paper that had been lying in the floor. I jotted down these words:
“Isn’t it ironic that we spend our whole lives looking for something, and then when we find it, it’s ripped away from us as if we aren’t worthy?”
