Freezer Burn
Wednesday, July 27, 2011 at 8:09PM
blue in Relationships

 

 

It was purchased too soon.

Maybe it was on sale:  An offer that couldn't be refused.

Or, perhaps, it looked so good that it just couldn't be passed over.

                                        Fresh meat.  Grade A.  Thick cut. 

 

So, you brought it home before you were ready.

And, while it was still cool (having been kept in the refrigerator), as the days passed, you knew that it was only a matter of time before it spoiled. 

So, you put me on ice.

 

****

 

I'm sure that he'd been thinking about it for awhile, having periodically reminded me that he wasn't ready to go "all in."  Not yet ready to become obligated to do the things that he already did by choice.  Not ready for the standing weekend dates (that took place at his kitchen counter over glasses of cheap vodka and conversation that poured steadily into the night).  Not yet prepared for the monotony of monogamy (paradoxically variable in tone, tenor and temerity).  Not yet willing to carve out a space for me (no matter how filling.  No matter how small).

But it was cool.

I never told him that it was spoiling...

That the expiration date was looming.  That the present state of things was growing rancid. 

But he must have known that, unless my shelf life was equal to that of a Twinkie, things would sour.  He must have known that the stench of a woman not claimed would eventually overpower.  That We would begin to rot in entirety, making it impossible to separate the molding bits.

And so, on a Sunday morning, he turned to me and announced that the time had come.  I was being shelved.

Preserved. 

Frozen.

Stored for when he awakened from his idyllic hibernation. 

Placed in a state of suspended animation, to be returned to.  (Perhaps).

Too good to be cast aside permanently, but not good enough to be appreciated now. 

Maybe one day he'd return to me to thaw out the hardened layers that he caused to form. 

Maybe he'll sit me out in his sunlight, hoping that I'll warm again to his embrace.

But, most likely, I'll sit.  Forgotten.  Weathered by his indecision.  Whole, but tainted all the same. 

Burned frozen. 

 

 

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