Waiting.

I held the smoke in until I was filled with the white noise of it. I liked the comforting vibration of it in my chest and the heaviness of it in my eyes. I had been waiting in this tree house for hours and I was hoping the smoke would keep me warm. It was a long drive to get there but I didn't know where else to wait for him. So I waited in the place that I was accustomed to waiting for him. It was a vaugely romantic idea, and I hoped that he would think of it, read the clues I wrote on the door. If he did come to this place, if he found me here, ready to start from the begining again, I knew things would be different. I was up and running now. The stitches were removed and I was healing. The scars were still bright, but they would fade just like all the others. In the past, when he would touch or kiss my skin, I would flinch like I could feel the burning of the cigarretts to my legs or the broken glass to my neck. He was not kissing them to make me hurt, he was kissing them so I didn't have to hurt anymore. Funny how the truth applies moment to moment. I didn't have to hide the ugly things from him because he found the beauty in them. I was the person that taught him how to find beauty in strange places. He learned his lesson better than I could have ever imagined. He found it in me. I made a promise to the empty tree house, that if he did come here, that I would let him look at me, fully, without trying to hide. I would let him take my shirt off when we made love, turn the lights on even. I wanted to show him that I wasn't scared anymore; That I didn't mean to hurt him when I shuddered at his touch. I pulled the old CD player out of my bag, and put in the Patsy Cline album that never got returned to his mother. I wondered how long it would be before I saw him again. Not long I thought, I could feel him. He was thinking about me, trying to think like me. I could almost see him smiling in disbelief when he finally figured it out. He would think that I was trying to trap him. Making him explain something to his parents that he never wanted to. I made myself laugh when I tried to imagine the lie he would tell them when he showed up unexpectedly at their house. Maybe he would just jump the fence like I did. I doubt it. Kevin never had to jump a fence in his life, he wouldn't start now. I was feeling giddy picturing seeing him, I would tell him about all the times I walked passed his house on my way to the library when I was a kid, how I always liked the way he played games and the way his house always looked friendly. I was warmed by my optimism. I was fighting the ugly thoughts that he might not come. I fought it, because that was part of the curse, and I didn't believe in curses anymore. I believed the moments of truth now. And in that moment the truth was that Kevin and I were for always. I played the song that he played me that first night. This would be our moment. I heard the leaves shake and a familiar voice say that she better goddamn be here because we have things to talk about. He was frustrated, and nothing was certain, but I was safe. He was here.

He looked at me and asked me what I was doing here. I said my name is Ivy, and would he please not tell anyone that he found me here. He shook his head and rolled his eyes, but he promised he wouldn't tell anyone.