Following My Toes Read Free

and you obviously feel that way too. So we should break up.”
    Then I knew. In a sick moment of clarity I realized there was just no room for doubt. It took me a moment, but finally I said, “You set me up. You made that comment because you knew how I would respond.”
    “Faith, let’s not do this. I don’t want this to get ugly. After all we’ve shared, we should try and end this on a good note. That way, perhaps we can still be friends.”
    “Why?” I said, ignoring the ‘friends’ things. I mean, come on! “I don’t get it.”
    “I told you,” replied Peter. “We want different things.”
    “Peter, if you’re going to do this, at least be honest. Tell me the real reason. Is it me? Was it something I did, or didn’t do? What?”
    “It’s nothing like that. You’ve been great.”
    “Did you meet someone else?”
    He looked down, away from me. My skin was burning and my heart was pounding. But I am proud to say I remained calm.
    “Who?” I said in a voice from deep within me. I sounded more like Darth Vader than myself, and it scared us both. Peter looked up, startled.
    “What does it matter?”
    “Do I know her?” I asked.
    Peter looked me directly in the eye, and simply said, “No.” And I believed him.
    “Do you love her?”
    To that he replied, “Yes. I’m sorry, Faith.” I didn’t believe him on that one, at least not the part about his being sorry. But there was nothing left to say. Okay, there was nothing interesting left to say. Not that I didn’t try. My dignity soon escaped me, and I kept Peter there for over an hour, begging him to stay, then screaming at him to go. It was not pretty. But in the end he left, and I was devastated.
    * * *
     
    Afterwards I realized I had more experience with heartbreak than I thought. For instance, I wasn’t making up that story about cutting the hair off of my sister Margaret’s Barbie dolls. They had been brand new, birthday presents, barely even played with. I was curious what they would look like with short hair, and jealous she had recently been the recipient of all the attention. So I stole them from her closet, and gave them both a horrible butch haircut.
    Margaret cried and cried, devastated I could have done such a thing. The only thing I regretted was my parents’ decree that my allowance for the next three months would go towards buying her new dolls. Looking back, I am surprised at my ability to be so careless and cruel. But at the time, I was mostly surprised with my power to make another person cry. Now I wonder, what separates me from a cheating boyfriend, or even from an abusive stalker? We all make mistakes, and I’m certainly no exception. Perhaps in the end it all comes down to our comfort level with power.
    I suppose that’s my problem. The only power I’ve ever been comfortable with is one nobody even believes I have.

Chapter 2
     
    After Peter left I did not want to sleep. Actually, it wasn’t sleep I was afraid of; it was waking up. I hate that moment when you wake up the morning after something terrible has happened. At first you don’t remember; for about a second your life feels normal. And then it hits you. Oh yeah, my world is in shambles and I will never be the same. It’s like experiencing the awful event again for the first time. As it happened, however, waking up and remembering the night before was not as traumatic as I had feared it to be. On the other hand, sleep had been a nightmare. Literally.
    I dreamt that I had been with Lacey, my best friend since 5th grade. We were at a high school dance, not the high school that we went to, but the high school where I taught. Except, in this dream, we were both students, conversing with the kids from my classes.
    Lacey and I were standing together when the cutest senior boy, Matt Kendel, approached us. I was excited because I was sure he was going to ask me to dance. (Okay, two things: a: Matt was eighteen at the time of my dream, so it is not quite as gross as it