MARRY ME, SIMONE

What is love? I'll tell you what love is. Love is driving thousands of miles in your brother's old rusty pick-up truck which needs refilling the radiator every hour in the September heat to visit your boyfriend who has been MIA on you for the last two months. Or is it just stupidity? Really, there's just a thin line between the two; love and stupidity. So thin it's almost invisible. I parked the car in the driveway and made my way to the main door. I knocked on the door and no response came. Worry consumed me, maybe Denis wasn't home. But I did try to call him. I tried the door and it was locked: I didn't expect it to be open anyways. I looked for a spare key in all the places I could think he could keep it. But why would he keep a spare key when he lived alone? You could be wondering, as his girlfriend, why didn't I have a spare key? Good question. Even the fact that he just got this place three months ago and I've only been here once didn't justify why I didn't have a key of my own. Anyway, I resorted to the last option, breaking in. I easily unlocked the door with a hairpin: don't ask me how I acquired this skill. I pushed the door open and stepped in. It was a little dark in here but beautiful all the same. The house was just as I remembered it: spacious with little furniture. Denis wasn't usually at home, he moved around a lot because of his job: he was a model. And that brought back the worrying feeling in my stomach; what if he wasn't home? All this would be for nothing. But that's the thing with surprises: they work or backfire. The first place I'd check was his bedroom, obviously. Because even though it was 14:00hours, knowing Denis, he'd probably still be in bed if he didn't have a shoot or any gig. And I was right, he was in bed. And he wasn't alone. My smile fell when I noticed the girl he was laying next to. Her head was resting upon his chest, black shinny hair hiding her face. Denis has his arm wrapped around her shoulder as he slept peaceful. There was a pinching sensation in my chest when I saw all the clothes scattered on the floor, I couldn't breathe. I stumbled a few steps backwards, losing my balance; my knees had weaken and my vision was darkening. I was holding on to his dresser for support. Tears run down my face like a waterfall. How? Why? I wondered. But I already knew the answers. I was starting to feel anger boiling in my veins. All that time I invested; for nothing. Just the thought caused a cracking pain in my chest, where my heart was. I felt like a fool. With my fists clenched, I walked out of the room. I was breathing heavily, my heart beating fast in my chest. I looked around, not knowing what to do. I ran my fingers through my hair in despair. Then an idea came to mind. I journeyed to the kitchen, grabbed a basin, I took a moment to contemplate on whether to fill it with hot boiling water or ice cold water. Because of my very kind heart, I settled on cold water. Denis and the girl screamed when I poured the water on them. It took Denis a moment to realize what was happening. He squinted his eyes the minute he saw me holding the basin, "Simone?" He wondered out loud, "what the f**k?!" He exclaimed. I gaped, "I should be the one asking that!" I cried. I saw guilt flash in his eyes. "You weren't supposed to see this." He said sounding sorry. My mouth just went wider, "are you f*****g kidding me?" I asked in disbelief, "that's what you're worried about!?" He shrugged, looking away. "You're supposed to be sorry because you did it, not because I found out." "What are you even doing here?" He frowned. "I'm your f*****g girlfriend, Denis!" We fell into silence. "Why?" I croaked. "Why would you do this to me?" I tried not to cry. "Why didn't you break up with me first?" Denis groaned, "I went MIA on you for two months Simone, I thought you got the memo." He explained. I bit a sob back, "you're f*****g coward." I accused. "And you are so dense." He spat, "you can't even tell when a person wants you-" "It's because I love you!" I cried. Silence. And then he spoke, "no you don't love me," he paused, "you just love the idea of being with me." "f**k you!" I said, feeling an anger I've never experienced before. Then walked out of the room. He followed me, I heard his laugh dangerously close to me, "look at you, you haven't even cried!" I spun around to face him, a deep frown on my face. Denis was standing a few steps away from where I was standing- nude. You want me to cry? I wanted to ask. Instead I just shook my head and continued off. "See!" He accused. "How about a little reaction Simone?" I turned, throwing a death glare in his direction, "you want me to react? Fine, I'll react!" I marched to his entertainment unit and dropped his TV: the screen shattered when it hit the floor. Surprisingly, that felt really good. "Great! Help yourself!" He shrugged, not giving a care in the world. Of course he didn't care, he was so rich. I realized that smashing things wouldn't hurt him as much as he hurt me. But I knew just what would. An evil smile crept on my face, I marched over to where his precious Manchester United's Christiano Ronaldo's Guernsey was hanged up on the wall; framed. "W-what are you doing?" He shifted, I could hear the worry in his voice. I dropped the frame and it shattered, then I picked the Guernsey up, I found Denis standing so close to where I stood. "What do you want to do with that?" His voice was shaky. "Sell it." I shrugged. "I'm sure someone will be willing to pay a hundred k for this." His eyes bulged, "a hundred k?" He laughed in disbelief, "do you have any idea how much that Guernsey cost? Or what I went through to get it? It's an original one signed by CR7 himself!" He exclaimed. "That's better." "Fine! I'll pay ten times more." He said with the desperation of a person who has his child held on gun point. I pretended to think of it, "mmm no." I said and started off. "You can smash my car!" He tried to stop me. Even though the offer was tempting; Denis treasured his gray BMW cabriolet so much but he treasured the Guernsey more. More than he did our relationship. Now I was more jealous of the Guernsey than I was of the girl that was still in Denis's bedroom. She was beautiful: great skin, lovely hair, pretty face, hot body; she looked like a model. "Goodbye Denis." And I was gone.