Mary (Pt.3)

Mary was still very much on my mind though. She was what kept me sane during all of this. The thought of her and me as one gave me hope, and I needed hope. I didn’t really care for Sal but the three of us met up at times. After a while we basically saw each other every day. I had deep conversations with Mary. I told her how I felt about her and how much she meant to me. That Sal was in the very same room didn’t bother me. He was so out of it that he probably didn’t even notice it anyway. Mary looked at me, with those beautiful blue eyes of hers, and told me that she too had felt the connection between us. I told her about how much we resembled each other and how she was the only one to truly understand me. I even went so far to admit my unconditional love for her. That changed things. Suddenly, Sal was in the exterior and I had reclaimed my position as the main man. I committed fully to my relationship to Mary and indulged in her learnings. It was the happiest I had ever been. With her, I could finally cut the ties with society and become myself.

After one of our countless nights together, which normally meant: conversations about life, sex and tears, we fell asleep in each other’s arms. Little did I know that this was the beginning of the end of our relationship. Something had changed the next day. We began to argue. We threw things at each other and at times we even got physical. I’d have never thought that they day would come when I’d put my hand on a woman but Mary just triggered me. I was ready to walk on numerous occasions but then she would fall to floor, screaming and crying, and I’d eventually end up in the sack with her again. I drank less, but popped more pills. We talked less and fought more. Eventually, I lost my spirit. I just caved. I let her rule without conditions and the relationship became less explosive. Where the fuck Sal had gone, I didn’t know. It was all about me and Mary now. I felt numb, shallow and empty. The happiness of getting Mary was gone, replaced by this hollowness. I figured it was just natural, considering all the drama we had endured previously, to have this period of numbness. But as the months ticked on and nothing changed I decided it was time to end it. I gathered strength for a week, sat Mary down and told her how I felt. Naturally, she became hysterical. This time I walked past her, headed for the door and was on my way. Just as I was about to open the door I felt a sharp pain just over my kidney. The intensity of the pain dropped me to my knees and when I put my hand on it, it came back red. Mary had stabbed me. I felt another sting of pain, this time in my stomach. I put my hands up and she cut me over my wrist. I tried to fight it but it was pointless. I fell unconscious to the floor. Game over.

©Alexander Berg Mattsson, 2012


4 thoughts on “Mary (Pt.3)

  1. doncarroll says:

    i’m not sure if I had mentioned this or not, but this very well could be a relationship with some sort of drug and as it has that physical relationship existence too. just a take alex.

    1. thepoeticgoblin says:

      You weren’t that far off actually! This invented persona, Mary, is supposed to mirror a drug addiction as well as mental illness.

      I believe drug abuse mirrors a lot so I like to intertwine it with “other concepts”. Once again your insight baffles me!

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