Jeanette

It was cold that grey and grim night, though it wasn’t even at the end of summer. Rain beat steadily upon the roof of my 1989 Ford, making visibility difficult. Not that I minded, I had more to think about then falling into a ditch. Rather, I wished I would fall and end all the pain that I had come to know.
Last week had gone by so fast that I could hardly remember the advents that had led me to my sorry state. It seemed… hazed or, rather, mixed together as if it had all happened in a day. Why did she leave me? I wondered. We were together for one and a half years and then she left…and, for ALEX?! I rolled down my window and spat, as if that would take away the disgusting taste that name left in my mouth. That’s what now I truly did think about Alex.
Deep down inside, though I tried to deny it, I always knew Jeanette still had a thing for him. She insisted that she didn’t still like him, though how she would bring up his name in many of our conversations seemed to hint otherwise. Yet, how could I blame her? She was together with him for 3 years and it wasn’t until they broke up for the second time that we began to like eachother. Besides, Alex had a Chevy.
But still, why ALEX? I spat again, somehow spitting every time I heard his name seemed to bring some peace to my mind. And why did she want to leave me after we were so happy together? We were engaged God damnit!
The answer to that was simple or, at least to Jeanette it was. She said it was because I had stopped paying attention to her but this was not true. Last week was hard; there were business meetings to go to, construction sites to survey, dinners and parties that me and her attended. Besides, it wasn’t like she didn’t ignore me: I tried to arrange a private dinner with her at one of her favorite places by the lake but she shrugged it off. She mentioned something about going to see her friend that night.
That was not the only reason for her leaving me: she also said that I was not committed and that Alex was. Not committed? God! Alex was the one that wouldn’t share an apartment with her until the last four months of their relationship; we were engaged and the wedding was set for October.
But it didn’t matter anymore, that’s why I was driving to Miller’s Creek. A cliff hung high above it… the perfect place to throw myself into the deep waters below. Not like anybody would miss me: mom had died six weeks ago and my brothers all distained me cause I was going out with Jeanette. 'I told you she would leave you man.' That’s what Joe said. He was the only one that didn’t hate me but I doubt he would miss me anyways. The only time I heard anything reasonable come out of his mouth was when he was sober and that was very little, if at all. And then Jeanette… bah! Why would she miss me? She had her precious, “Alex” again.
I wasn’t always mad at him. He was a halfway decent guy in high school and we were on the football team together. Now that I think of it, we both liked Jeanette at the same time too, but he got her first. Not that I cared at the time; I was at the age where I liked nearly every chick in the school. Though, there was something different about Jeannette. Alex and I were still friends after he got her, it wasn’t until he started to talk shit behind my back and cheating on Jeannette that I got pissed off. That’s one thing I could never stand: guys that cheated on their girls.
I guess Jeanette was the only girl that I ever cared about before. I mean, I had crushes and girlfriends before but, when I first saw her, it was like the world revolved around her face. I smiled a little, tears forming in my eyes, as I remembered all that we had gone through together as teens. How we both hid in Wilson’s shed from her parents, how we both used to go out after school and just watch the sunset; it was too bad that we were just friends during that time though, I would have kissed her in a heartbeat.
That’s probably why Alex got her first: he was always the more outgoing one and could make any girl drop her pants in an instant. I, however, was more of the shy type. (I spent most of the prom in a corner) I wrote reams of poetry for her but I never had the courage to read any of it to her. At that age I could hardly say anything without stuttering and, besides, most of it was too sappy to read out loud anyways.
Good the old asp tree, only a few more minutes to Miller’s creek. The tears began to flow down my cheeks, almost as quickly as the rain lashed against my car. Soon I would throw myself from the cliff and be done with everything I had known. It wasn’t like I was a manic depressive or anything. I knew that there would probably have been other girls, some probably better looking then her. But that was not why you wanted her. I told myself wiping the tears from my eyes, strangely enough that was true.
Neither of us had known Jeanette until high school. Before then she was the outcast of society, studios librarian type, and not really the best looking. I remembered how Alice, the school’s beauty queen, would make fun of me and Alex because we hung out with her and spread rumors about her among the other cheerleaders. I just think she was jealous, she was the best cheerleader in the school and always had a thing for good looking quarterback like Alex and Jeanette got to him first.
Alice was one of those other girls that I had a crush on in high school and I actually went out with her for a month or two. But when I was with her, even though she was extremely good in bed, there seemed to be something missing that she was never able to fill. Of course I, being the hopeless romantic that I was, found that only one thing could satisfy my inordinate desire for romance. This one thing was Jeanette.
It didn’t matter anymore; I had now come up to Miller’s creek and high above me stood the cliff. I got out of my car and turned off the engine, the wind whipped cold about me and the rain came down even harder then before. I remembered when I had first come up her with her. It had been a long day and Alex had recently broken up with her again, we came up here to watch the sunset. There was a hollow spot within and oak that we would go to and just watch the sunset together. It was there that I finally found my courage and kissed her, just as I had been longing to do for nearly five years. I remembered how surprised she was at first but then her lips melted into mine. We did not climb down from there till midnight.
As I climbed, I began to wish we still could have said our goodbyes, maybe even watched one last sunset together but we couldn’t. Before she left, she swore that she would never talk to me again and those words hit my heart like a thousand bullets and, that night, I knew I could not live without her. I might have managed to survive if we could have remained friends, but I think Alex got to her. She swore to never speak or see me. That was two days ago.
At last, I thought. I’m finally at the top, now to find that ledge for my plummet. I trudged along for a minute or two, the ground was slippery and I fell in the mud more then once before I arrived at the ledge, the ledge where the oak tree stood by, the ledge where I would end it all. I took a deep breath, thoughts of life struggling to find their place within my mind but I shut them out. Hope? Life? These words meant nothing to me anymore, at least, not since Jeanette had left me. I sighed and shut my eyes, savoring the smell of the muddy earth and fresh rain: I always loved that smell. Then there was the sound of the creek below, gurgling and rippling as the raindrop came down towards it. I always loved that sound too.
Yes, tonight was a good night to die, broken hearted and alone, just me and the rain, my many tears, and a God that I would soon face. God? Bah, there is no God. If there was one then he would let me have come to this. I thought. I sighed again, hesitating for a brief moment if whether or not I should go through with this. No, I would go on, I reasoned that there was nothing left for me but death. And so, slowly, I made my way towards the ledge which stood a mere twenty feet away.
However, as I neared the ledge, I saw a small, form upon it just inches from the edge. She was bent over, her hand covering her face and her frail body quailed and shook as the savage wind tossed the rain to and fro about her. I could only see the person vaguely yet something with me told me told me that it might be her. I called out to her, coming ever closer to where she lay: a mess of tears. She heard my voice and slowly rose and turned towards me. It was Jeanette!
She was a miserable sight, eyes red from hours of crying and several bruises on her arms suggested that Alex had gotten into one of his ‘moods’ while drunk. I came closer to her, slowly, hesitantly. I feared that she would still live up to her promise of not wanting to talk to me again. I stood several feet apart from her for a moment, both of us to scared to speak. Then, she began to cry, but not tears of bitter remorse. These tears were lonely tears, repentant tears, each of them wrapping the wounds that her words had inflicted, each of them imploring, begging me to forgive. I could never stand to see her cry and, when I saw her tears all thoughts of sorrow left me. I drew her shaking body close to me and smiled. It seems that she was missing me too.