Do you remember? Do you remember me? I made sure you would. Remember when we met? A cold day back in January 2013, 29th of January to be exact. I was sitting at the bar, swinging my legs against the tall bar stool opposite, making a clunking noise every time my 6-inch heels made contact with the steel. Wearing that tight blue low-cut top you liked. You used to say you’d love to tear that top from my chest and leave it on your bedroom floor. I was sipping on my wine waiting on some guy I met from work – he was bugging me for a date so that night, I finally gave in. I arrived at the bar early in order to get somewhat tipsy to endure my date’s shit pickup lines. As time ticked on I began to get nervous – doing the thing you hate, biting my nails. Remember when you got me that stuff to stick my fingers in, so I wouldn’t bite my nails anymore? Ha! That lasted long. The door swung open and I swished my long raven hair behind me, you walked in with that smile on your face. Your blonde hair flowing in the wind from that night, you had long hair back then. Long for a guy I mean. I could see your grey eyes from across the room, piercing my soul as you stared at me, halted in your stride. You slowly ran your fingers through your hair and you headed my way, the nervous giggle that would roll from your tongue anytime a woman was around. Taking up the seat next me, you began to talk to me in that husky voice you had the day after you played football. Hoarse and dry. In that moment, I was yours. You were mine too, remember?
Do you remember our first date? I do. You took me back to the same bar we met only a few days before. We sat in a booth – our legs intertwined beneath the table, you couldn’t tell where my legs stopped and yours began. Sipping on our red wine, Shiraz Australian with a hint of oak and black cherry. I could smell the cherry on your breath as you leaned in to whisper in my ear. Your warm breath tickled my skin giving me goose bumps all over my body. We sipped away at the bottle for hours, talking about our hopes and dreams. You wanted to become a firefighter – so heroic, so incredibly brave. You already have the body for it. Through your shirt I can see the outline of your six pack, as you wrapped your arm around me I could feel your strength. I felt safe in your arms. You kissed me. Long and hard. Didn’t care that we were in a room full of people, in that moment, that bar was completely empty apart from the two of us. Just the two of us. You ran your fingers through my hair, gently pulling on it slightly. My hands on the back on your neck, slowly dragging my nails across your soft skin. This must be what people sing about, write about, what all those films are about.
Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me? It’s etched in my brain like a tattoo. We had been together for six months and ten days exactly. You had fucked me so hard that I was covered in bruises, pussy swollen, legs like jelly. You didn’t fair much better. I scratched your back just the way you like it. Looks like I drew blood this time, sorry baby I’ll be better next time. As we caught our breath, still giggling at each other I pulled on your t-shirt. The one that you had spilled wine on and I couldn’t get the stain out, remember? I lit a cigarette for you and placed your hand against my warm cheek. I loved to just feel your hands on me. I kissed the palm of your hand and placed the cigarette between your fingers. I lit my own cigarette with your lighter. I slid back onto your bed with my head leaning against your headboard. We smoked in silence for a few moments – savouring the post coital bliss. That’s when you said it:
“I love you,”
It killed me. My heart exploded. I’ve loved you from the moment you walked into that bar. I could feel the hot tears form in my eyes as I tried to blink them away before you could see. This is happiness. True happiness. To love and to be loved in return.
Do you remember our first fight? I still have the scar on my shoulder from when you threw the glass at me. You had went out to the bar with the guys and you came home smelling like perfume. There was lipstick on the collar of your shirt. The shirt I had washed and ironed for you. How dare you? How dare you even look at another woman. I screamed – screamed like someone had died. You did die that night. In my eyes, you were never the same. You couldn’t even look me in the eye. Kept saying it was ‘just a kiss’ how many other ‘kisses’ were there? Hm? Is that why your missing a loop on your belt too? I’m not a pushover baby, you can’t walk all over me. I gave you the world, my world. You betrayed me. I packed my bags to leave. Threw all my shit together on our bed and launched the bin bags at the front door. You kept asking me not to leave. You love me. You loved me. I’m the one. You pushed me against the wall, squeezing my wrists so tightly it burned. Tears were streaming down your face now – no hiding it. No blinking the tears away for you. You kissed me like you meant it. Hard and fast. You let my wrists go and they fell limply upon your shoulders. I can’t stay mad at you. I fold my legs behind your waist as you lift me back into the bedroom. Is there anything better than make up sex? Do you remember that time?
Do you remember what happened next? Three years go by. You proposed to me. Did it properly, asked my father for my hand in marriage and got on bended knee. Of course, I said yes. As I planned our June wedding, you were fucking her. You think I didn’t know? Women know everything. Remember that. I knew it when you went straight into the shower after playing football five nights a week. I knew it when I seen receipts for dinners you told me you had with guys with only two meals on it. I knew it when I seen the gift bag in your wardrobe that you couldn’t hide with her birthday present in it, her favourite perfume. The perfume I wear too. Very clever – get both of us the same perfume so neither of us know. Good try but not good enough. My heart was tearing into a million pieces. You killed me. Over and over again. Did you even notice? Every smile at your phone when her name pops up. I see it. I can’t let you go baby. You’re mine. I’m yours.
Do you remember this? I snapped. I clocked you grabbing your keys and your gym bag which I knew contained lingerie for her. The other woman. I couldn’t take it anymore. You yelled a sweet goodbye to me and before you grabbed the door handle, the knife was slicing against the skin on your throat. The look of shock and surprise on your face was laughable. I let out a cackle. I’ve thought about this for months. As the blood poured from your open wound, a smile crept across my face. She can’t have you now. You’ll always be mine. You fall to your knees then onto your back. I slid down the wall in the hallway, moving the plant your aunt gave us as a house warming gift aside. You keep making these noises. Choking on your own blood. After ten minutes, you finally go silent. Your body is still. The blood continues to trickle on the cream carpet. I keep laughing. I laughed as I was arrested. I laughed when I read about your funeral. I laughed in the dock during my trial. Not guilty because I’m insane. Is love insanity? Loving one woman forever, is that insane? What even is love anyway? Being a domesticated little bitch, is that love? Giving up a piece of yourself in order to keep the other person happy, is that love? If it is, I was mistaken. I was addicted to you and you to me. Our very own Sid and Nancy. Death do us part baby.
I replay these memories in my cell on repeat every day. I will repeat them until my dying day. You were the one for me. I wasn’t for you. I killed you for it. I do not regret a single fucking thing.