next to my own skin, Her Pearls in Flash Friday Entries

I hate sitting next to her when she eats. The sound she makes as she chews her food, the scrap of the fork on her teeth, the heavy breathing as she inhales her food.

Sometimes, I pray to God that she can not breathe. Her snotty attitude towards the world, with her pearls and her sweater vest from J Crew. She treats me as if I am beneth her, because my monthly salary is less than one of her paychecks.

At night, when we lay in bed together, I try to sleep so far away that she can’t touch me. I feel her hair on my arm and shudder. The thought of touching her makes me want to throw up.

“Give me a kiss” she says. I lean over for a quick kiss and quickly dismiss her. She sighs and tries to cuddle up to my back side. I hope she falls asleep soon. I do not want to hear her snores, be near her as she drools. I hate that the most, she drools so bad sometimes it puddles on the pillow dangerously coming close to my own skin. This is not the life I wanted. The hate in my heart towards her makes my body tense and I think back on Michael.

Michael with his blue eyes and soft lips that lingered on my neck and made me feel compete. I longed for his touch, I wanted him to be beside me at all times. When he kissed me for the first time, I felt as if the time stopped and in that moment I felt complete and that I was finally whole.

I remember the look on his face when I told him I was getting married. He didn’t understand my family and the need to be perfect in the public image. My father told me he would kill me before he would let the media know he had a gay son. He told me I would marry a girl I didn’t know. That she would be a good match for me.

So, I kissed Michael goodbye and part of my life ended that day. And here I am living in hell with someone who has no clue that I hate her. That I will spend my whole life wishing for something else.