Just Beneath the Surface
Mystery character thoughts
My wrath is a nightmare. But when she comes back to me, it’s like a dream.
She came to me with suitcases, holding a box, and the end was in the air.
But I knew it wasn’t over. Her eyes were red, weepy, avoiding mine, as if staying with me made her weak. I wanted to know who had been in her ear. I wrestled with my own anger.
This woman had managed to make me feel like a criminal. Me. Me?
I kissed away her tears, fears, the lies – the lies she tells herself about me.
She forgets the role she plays in who I am. My tone, my anger, my reaction – I am a reflection of her.
One midnight too many. Her broken promises, her disrespect, push me over my limit. She knows it. That’s why she’s here, holding a box, trying to hurt me, trying to convince herself that its over.
I look at her, and I see more than a box, more than a nervous woman, more than tears.
She belongs to me, and she doesn’t have to say a word – not a single word – I feel what she feels: We have a love that they would never understand. Its a force – a power most wouldn’t condone. But who are they?
She’s mine. I’m hers. And together, we will sleep – we will dream.
And like an unruly child, she summons my wrath.
Then comes the nightmare.
Then … she will come to me, again
like a dream …