Wash All Over Me (Expletive Language Warning)

Don’t go, just please don’t go. I need you to stay with me. I’m not safe if I’m not in your arms. Please, just don’t leave now.

I watched as he walked out of my life once again, down the hallway that seemed to go for miles and out the tall, wide glass doors that flung open with a slight push of his hand. Was it my fault? Was it something I said, something I did? I needed to know why he was leaving again; he meant so much to me. ‘Meant so much to me’? More like ‘means so much to me.’ I could feel it in his touch, see it in his eyes, and hear it in his voice. The anger, the depression, the fear, the confusion. There was no point in trying to stop him leaving again, it had happened more than once and this time was no different. He would come crawling back, battered and bruised, wanting my love and through it all, I loved him and always would, no matter what shit he put me through. He could send me through the gates of hell and make me find a way out and in the end I would still love him, he would still mean the world to me, but why? Hey, that’s what I want to know.

Dusk was present and the sun was quickly setting, I walked over to the window that looked out over the busy city. 37 floors up and the orange-pink sunlight was beaming through the thin cloud and onto the back wall of my apartment. I walked over to the front door, grabbed my keys and pulled the black leather jacket onto one arm. My hair was disheveled and so was my face for that matter. My eyes were swollen from crying and my lips still trembling from the echo of his voice running laps through my mind. Empty, was my heart, empty was my soul and empty was my stomach, as I ran down all 37 floors of the fire escape exit and into the basement car-park. I heard my stomach grumble as if to stay “FEED ME DAMN IT, I NEED FOOD TO SURVIVE!” Ignoring it once again, I tried to place the key into the keyhole of the car door, but I wasn’t succeeding. “Come on baby, open for me please…I need to find him, I need to tell him I love him, he needs to know I care.” Jolting the key around in the keyhole seemed to help and the button popped up on the odd coloured door.

Jumping into my black 67’ Chevy, I shoved my hand into my handbag waiting to find something that was edible. Not finding anything to shut my stomach up, I started the car, reversed it out of the car-space and then shuffled my hand through my oversized handbag again, hoping that something edible had materialised. It was getting dark quickly and the fuel tank was verging on empty. In order to find Avery, I needed food for me and the car, and quickly. I turned right onto the busy main road dimly lit by overhead street lights and by the light of the office buildings towering high and surrounding me, and pulled into the nearest service station I could find, this baby wasn’t going far without the premium unleaded she deserved. Through back seat sex, hail storms, sweltering heat and a prang or two, this car had been good to me…better than any guy was ever going to treat me.

I got out of the car and blankly stared at the price that I was going to be paying for premium unleaded. ‘$1.72 a litre’ it read. “You have to be fucking kidding me.” I muttered to myself as I started to pump the petrol into my Chevrolet.
“Are you ok little Miss?” I heard a husky voice behind me say in my left ear.
“Do I look fucking ok to you? Huh?” I replied hastily and with a snarl.
“Ok, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to say it like that. I’m just really not in the mood for high petrol prices, wankers that walk in and out my life that I love with all my heart and the fact that I’m starving to death.”
I put the petrol cap back on, grabbed my wallet out of my handbag and walked in to pay for petrol and find something to eat that wasn’t 2 weeks out of its expiry date, or from some strange foreign country that I couldn’t pronounce the name of. Glancing out of the shop window for half a second I saw the hillbilly dude staring at me as he leaned on the boot of my Chev. Not paying attention to the fact that the Indian guy at the cash register was asking me what petrol pump I was at, but more concerned about if Hillbilly was going to leave a handprint on my car, I vaguely said to the cash register while death staring Hillbilly,
“It’s the Chevy.”, and handed over a crumpled fifty dollar note that was in my jeans pocket.
“Ah excuse me, which petrol pump you use?” the cash register guy said with a strong Indian accent.
“Oh for fuck sake, it’s the black Chevrolet, number 4.” I said frustrated…and still death staring Hillbilly.
As I walked out of the service station shop I told Hillbilly dude to get his hands off my car, otherwise there was going to be my fist in his jaw. I wasn’t putting up with any bullshit today. He backed off, I got in the car and drove off.

I pulled over next to a nightclub that was only just opening for the evening and pulled my mobile out of my back pocket. It looked extremely tempting to go into, find myself a hot guy and skull down a few drinks, just to try to block out the earlier events of the day.

3 missed calls
-Daddy Dearest (2) 5:57pm
-Avery (1) 6:31pm

How the fuck did I miss these calls? Maybe it was the fact that all I could hear was Avery’s voice playing like a broken record in my head saying the words before he walked out “Do you love me?” and me whispering back “Yes, yes I do.” It was now quarter to 7 and I still hadn’t eaten and I wasn’t going to sit in this car in silence. I turned on the CD player and pressed ‘play’. A mixed CD started playing, one that I made for Avery but never ended up giving him.

19 years old and fresh out university with once again, a broken heart that seems to be as strong as crepe paper wasn’t quite the way I planned my life only a few months back but God, or whoever that higher being is had a plan for me…probably a fucked up one I wasn’t going to like at all. I just had to trust myself that everything was going to be ok; I was going to make it through the good times and the bad no matter what. I’m strong, I’m a fighter and nobody was going to get in the way of that. Not even Avery. Giving up on even trying finding Avery early on was the first option on my list of to-do things and actually, the only thing. I was too tired, too stressed, too drained, to-fucked-up-in-the-heart-and-head to even try to start thinking where he may be and how I was going to get him back. Blasting up the music and taking the road out of the city was the best thing for me to do, well for now anyway.

♪ I just want you to know who I am ♪ I started singing along to one of my favourite songs of all time and checked my phone once again to see the time. Raindrops started to hit the windscreen, one by one, running down the screen blurring my vision from the road in front. Teardrops fell from my cheek, one by one as I fell into the lyrics of Iris and let my emotions take me over. Really to be honest with you, I had no idea where I was going, I was just going. I had nothing but what I was wearing, no less than thirty three dollars in my wallet and probably close to nothing on my keycard and my broken heart and my disheveled life to carry with me. It was time to do some thinking.

Wash All Over Me (Expletive Language Warning)

Amber Edwards

Sydney, Australia

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Artist's Description

A story that came to mind earlier today…Doesnt really have meaning of any sort…Just basically describes my life at the moment.

Artwork Comments

  • A boy called Star
  • Amber Edwards
  • A boy called Star
  • A boy called Star
  • Amber Edwards
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