Places That Belong To You (Title, Part 2)
We both went back to school, and I wish I could say that I let him go as I knew I should have, but I didn’t. We maintained a phone relationship and began letter writing. He was still working at Wal*Mart since his school was nearby but I, of course, was away. I missed Mark terribly, but I also knew Chris was coming back soon.
I tried to settle back into dorm life and the pleasure of seeing acquaintances I’d not seen in a few months, but I was having trouble doing that. In one of his letters, he sent me a poem, and as I read it I knew I’d crossed over and I was in love. The poem was about me, as seen through his eyes. I got it professionally printed and framed. I then hung it on my wall. It made me feel closer to him every time I saw it.
Still, I longed to see him. I pondered going to him, and refrained from doing it. Amazing, how he could still feel my energy from two hours away.
“I’m coming to see you on Saturday,” he said determinedly when he called. I knew I should tell him no, yet I couldn’t. I needed him.
Unfortunately, the day he came there was a big football game. Not being a sports fan, I didn’t even think about it and he had trouble finding parking and then it started to rain. When he showed up he was soaked to the skin and didn’t look happy. I winced, feeling very guilty. Trying to joke, I said he looked like a drowned rat.
He didn’t appreciate it and said, “At least a drowned kitten would sound a little better.” Still, he was here.
In my very small room there wasn’t much for us to be anywhere but on the bed, so that is where we found ourselves. It wasn’t long before we were kissing. I’d missed him so much, my emotions began to overwhelm me. I needed to be as close to him as possible, to meld with him, for there to be no distance. I knew he sensed it, because he pulled me closer and began searching my body, not holding back. My shirt and bra came off before I even knew it was happening. His shirt was already off, because it was wet.
He buried his face in my chest and began to kiss along my breasts, pausing to suckle my nipple. My mind was screaming for him to make love to me, and suddenly he stopped. He stood up and took out his wallet, giving me a slightly guilty look.
“I came prepared,” he said. I noticed the circular bulge in his wallet and knew it was a condom. In that moment, I knew it was going to happen. My mind was crying out for this, so there was no stopping it. I was out of control, and had caught him up in it with me. I slid his pants and underwear down. I stared at his naked body for a moment and he looked at me knowingly.
“It’s different, isn’t it?” he asked, smiling. I nodded while blushing profusely. “I’ve been told that before,” he stated in a matter of fact way. In truth his penis had a slight curve to it. Now my knowledge of male genitalia is limited, but the ones I’d seen had never had that.
Then the embarrassing moment was forgotten as he got back on the bed and began kissing me. My mind screamed out for him to take me as he removed my shorts and underwear. I panicked when he handed me the condom, as I’d never used one before. (Remember, I was a virgin). Hesitantly, I ripped off the package and took it out.
“Just roll it on,” he whispered. I placed it on the tip of his cock, he was so hard already, and rolled it down. As he entered me I squeezed him inside as hard as I could. It was slightly painful but I didn’t care, Mark was with me and he was mine. I felt him penetrate me, and it both hurt and felt so good at the same time. His kiss was hard and passionate on my lips, and I felt like we were as one person. I blocked out the pain of him being inside me, and focused only on the pleasure. He rubbed against me and pounded into me, my whole body was on fire for him. I wanted to release the pleasure before it exploded inside of me.
In that moment, I felt myself release, and he released with me, simultaneously. I’m sure he fed off my energy and that is why we came together.
Honestly, it was over before I knew it. As we lay together, just holding on, he told me he had to go, and I wanted to cry. I wanted him to stay, but I quickly tried to push those thoughts out, not wanting to affect his actions. It was too late, he offered to stay. I refused, saying I knew he had to get back, just asked that he call me when he was home.
We got our clothes on, and walked hand in hand to his car. “This evening reminds me of a song from the England Dan & John Ford Coley tape you made for me,” he said softly.
“Which song?” I asked curiously. He refused to tell me, leaving me to guess. “Maybe it was ‘Sad to Belong’?” I suggested, thinking about how that song is about two people who are right for each other but the man already belongs to another.
“Good guess but that isn’t what came to mind,” he said. “’Soldier in the Rain’ is what I was thinking to be honest.” Remembering how wet he was when he got to my room, I had to laugh as I agreed. He dropped me to my dorm room and went home.
Alone in my room, I didn’t know if I should feel elated or depressed. I’d just given myself for the first time to a man who was engaged to someone else. On the other hand, I’d given myself to someone I was very much in love with. The problem was, he didn’t love me and I KNEW it. He was caught up in the emotions I was sending him, and I had to stop it soon.
I wanted to see him again, needed to see him again. I refrained from giving in to that urge though, and didn’t contact him at all. I was unsurprised when he called me, saying he wanted to see me. He invited me to come to him next weekend, and we’d meet at a pub he liked. Part of me wanted to say no, of course I didn’t though.
We met at the pub on Saturday night. He ordered his regular Killian’s Red, which is what he always seemed to get. I had a glass of white wine, unusual for me as I don’t drink. We caught up on our week, avoiding the topic of what had happened the weekend prior.
When we finished our drinks, he suggested we go for a drive. He said he’d drive and we’d come back for my car afterwards. We drove over to his college campus and took a walk around. It was Saturday night, so of course the actual campus was dead. We sat by a small, concrete pond. I sat on the edge of it and he sat behind me, arms wrapped around me. For a moment I lost myself in the intimacy of this moment. Words were unnecessary as we watched the sun go down.
When we finally got up to go back to the car, my thoughts drifted to last weekend and being with him, physically. I needed that again, needed it badly. We walked hand in hand and got in the car. He drove off and parked in a little dirt parking lot on campus and stopped. He’d felt me again, I knew that.
He leaned over and kissed me hard and I knew we were going to do it, right here in the parking lot. I didn’t care; I lost myself in the moment. We started to remove each others’ clothing and put the seats back. We then decided that it would be easier to move to the backseat, so we did. We pushed the seats forward for maximum room and he pushed my skirt up.
“I’m going to show you how I use my mustache,” he muttered.
Suddenly, we saw the headlights beaming in our direction. We both froze, and then saw it was a police car. I groaned, that was all we needed. I had no idea what the fallout of this would be, but I knew it wouldn’t be good. Why couldn’t he just go on his merry way, and leave us alone?
As if he felt my thoughts, and he probably did, the policeman turned his lights off and drove slowly past. I gaped at the car in amazement as he continued to drive past us and disappear.
“That was considerate of him,” said Mark, in both amusement and relief. We both laughed, happy to have dodged that bullet, and continued with our business.
He dove back under my skirt and pulled down my panties. I shivered as he kissed my thighs and his hands caressed my legs. Then I felt his mustache intertwining through the hairs around my sex. It had an interesting feel to it, and I liked it. I probably would have liked anything that Mark did though, truth be told.
I wanted him to taste me and on cue, I felt his tongue licking away at my clitoris. My entire body shook at the pleasure this gave me. I moved against him, moaning loudly and loving the warmth of his tongue on me. He licked me until I couldn’t stand it anymore, and finally released.
It’s hard to snuggle in a car, much as we both seemed to want to. So we put our clothes back on and headed back towards the pub. I felt elated and sad at the same time. I knew I was living on borrowed time. This couldn’t last forever and I was certain of that. I was going to lose him, and I should lose him. He wasn’t really mine.
He suddenly looked sad; he must be feeling my emotions. When I asked him what was wrong, though, he said nothing was the matter.
We arrived at the parking lot next to the pub where we’d met, kissed our goodbyes, and I drove off.
I spent the next week being depressed. Mark and I didn’t talk on the phone, I was avoiding him and I think he was doing the same. The inevitable was out there and we knew it. Still, I missed him and I wanted to be with him. I decided to go visit the crew at Wal*Mart the next weekend. They were going out for drinks as was their normal activity on Friday night.
Mark seemed happy to see me. It was good to see everyone, especially Mark. When everyone else had left we sat on a curb in the parking lot, as we often had before. We avoided the topic of us, just chatted about other things. I decided I should take the plunge, and asked him how wedding plans were coming. He said they were coming along ok. He looked thoughtful as he lifted his hand, and looked at his engagement ring.
“Even in the dark, the ring still sparkles,” he said in a serious tone.
I felt a little dagger go in my heart. Here was the truth, what lay underneath all the feelings I’d stirred up inside him. He loved Chris, I knew that but here was the proof. We had to end, it was time.
“I love Chris, Sheila,” he practically whispered.
For a moment, I hated him. Why did he initiate something with me, only to dump me? Then I remembered, he hadn’t really initiated it. All of it had come from inside me, he’d merely reacted to me. I hated the control I could have on others feelings and behavior. I didn’t know how I’d ever have anything real if that was going to happen my whole life. No wonder I didn’t make friends, and certainly avoided romance. I just wanted to pretend this hadn’t happened, rewind the clock to before it started.
Feeling me without knowing it, he stood up abruptly. “I have to go,” he said decisively. We walked in silence, said a quick goodnight, and he drove away.
I knew I should leave, but instead I called my mom who lived not too far away, and said I was spending the night. She was obviously surprised I was there, but being used to me and my odd quirks, she didn’t question it, just as she hadn’t questioned me not living at home last summer. The next night I went back to Wal*Mart saying I wanted to join the crew again. Mark didn’t look happy, and this made me angry. I knew I shouldn’t feel angry, but I did. Rejection evokes strong emotions in everyone, especially someone like me. Mark decided not to go out with us, and I was so disappointed.
Still, the conversation with my fellow employees was nice. I was stunned when Mark came in a bit later, saying he’d had to take care of something, but he’d done it. He took an empty seat across from me and I fumed. How do men do this? Just shut off their feelings like that? I knew my thought process wasn’t rational, but then, feelings rarely are. I tried to ignore him, to talk to the others around me.
Out of the blue Mark suddenly picked up his drink and dumped it over David’s head (David was sitting next to him). “You’re an asshole!” he yelled at David as he stormed out of the restaurant. Everyone kind of sat there, watching David dripping Killian’s Red, too stunned to know what to say. David went to the bathroom and the group began to murmur about what we’d just witnessed.
Everyone that had overheard the conversation seemed to agree that David hadn’t really provoked this, and something else was going on with Mark. Of course I knew he was feeding off my anger. I needed to get control.
It was hard to be back at school. I missed Mark, I even caved and called him a couple of times, but he sounded so uncomfortable. He seemed to feel compelled to talk to me, yet deep down I knew he didn’t want to.
I had no right to be upset; we were never meant to last. Why I’d let it happen was beyond my understanding.
One day my emotions just overwhelmed me. Alone in my dorm room I began to sob tears that were both of anger, and of regret. Without any viable cause, the frame that held his poem to me fell off my wall. I picked it up and saw that the glass had broken cleanly in half. It had been a long time since I had had an affect over an inanimate object.
Sobs completely wracked my body now, and I could only hope that the pain would stop eventually.
Sometimes, I am my own worst enemy. I continued to wear the necklace, seeming unable to take it off except when I slept. I knew it was holding a piece of him with me. At least I stopped calling him, and maybe he was free of my energy. This pained me, but I knew it was best for him. Now I just had to free myself.
When winter break came at college, I went home. I’d stayed in an apartment for the summer because my mom drove me crazy, but for the break I decided to stay with her. Wal*Mart agreed to let me work during the holidays, so I had a chance to earn some money. Mark wouldn’t be working, as his wedding was in a couple of days and then he would be off to his honeymoon.
It was so weird to be at my job without him. Every aisle reminded me of some conversation we’d had there. Mark’s wedding invitation was posted to a wall, with a sign up list under it. I pondered signing up and attending, but I knew I couldn’t do that. I made sure to be on the work schedule to avoid that temptation. It hurt so much though, and I could feel the gloominess of the co-workers who were unfortunate enough to be in close proximity to me.
It was the day of his wedding, and mercifully, I was working. I was still wearing the necklace, how foolish I was. I took it off and slipped it into my pocket, thinking I’d find a way to dispose of it soon. What I should do is give it back to Mark.
I made up my mind, if Mark showed up at Wal*Mart today, I’d give it back to him. I laughed to myself; he wasn’t going to show up here on his wedding day.
Imagine my shock an hour later, when he walked in the door. I stared at him in disbelief, but he didn’t even acknowledge me. He’d felt me though, that had to be why he was here. Apparently, he wasn’t as immune from my energy as I’d thought. I fingered the necklace in my pocket.
He told another co-worker that he was burning off some nervous energy before the ceremony. He did seem a little hyper. I didn’t speak to him, but busied myself organizing a shelf.
After about 20 minutes, he was ready to leave. I panicked; I didn’t think I could do it. As he walked out the door I ran after him and shouted, “Mark?!”
He stopped, and turned around to look at me quizzically. I took the necklace out of my pocket and handed it to him.
His eyes softened for a moment as he uttered a single word. “Thanks,” he said quietly and walked away.
I wanted to cry but I was at work. I knew I’d done the right thing, and although the pain was still there, the healing could begin. I had released him and in doing so, released myself.
I don’t think that was the last time I saw him, but all memories of him after that day are blurry at best.
The next day I went to the park and sat on the bench where he’d taken me not so long ago. I took a pen and using a lot of pressure, wrote our initials on the table of the picnic bench. Sounds strange I know, but at least that way I could remind myself that it was real and not in my mind.
Later that evening I went to see a movie by myself. The movie was “The Prince of Tides” and in it, Nick Nolte and Barbara Streisand had a passionate love affair that eventually ended because Nick’s character still loved his wife. The movie just made me ache, and being the romantic that I am, the story was akin to my own with Mark. I bought the soundtrack, and there was a song on it that just reduced me to tears every time it played. It is my song to him, and to the love affairs everywhere that simply didn’t work out. Our places would always be the picnic bench, the parking lot outside work, and the place he has in my heart:
Mornings, eveningsDays that hurried pastDreams that should have lastedMoments, hoursSlipping by as weTold each other secretsSomehow I’ll never let go of the memoriesSomething always seems to remind meOf how it wasof what it wasWHEN it wasAll there wasLaughter, love songsFootsteps that I hearMake me think you’re near mePoems, picturesLetters never mailedBoats that never sailedRemember that even though we can’t be togetherWe’re more for having loved one anotherWe shared the skyWe learned to flySomeday when someone else’s arms are around usWhen time has put some distance between usThe years will kindly showHow memories come and goThey ebb and flow like the tidesThere are quiet places in my heartEver since we’ve partedGentle, tenderTraces of a songPlaces that belong to you