my metaphor story...please see if you can make any suggestions

Christian Fazio
Advanced Fiction Writing
Professor Tony Barnstone
2/20/2007

initially wanted to chronicle how it feels to break up with some one...i think it needs work..what if i shorten it in some places and lengthen it in others? question where how and why?

Wrestling Match

We are in a room—she and I. we stand facing each other. I have no clue where we are, how we got there or how long it has been—maybe a year or month, maybe an hour. It’s hard to say. The room is always dark. The walls are black, and so is the floor and ceiling. The only thing that punctuates this darkness is a swinging light bulb hanging above. It never illuminates the room entirely, it only gives fleeting glimpses of her arms, legs and sometimes face. There are no windows in this room, just a door on the wall far behind me. Light from beneath it fans out, yet never reaches us. We stand in isolation, both of us afraid to speak. The only thing that breaks our silence is the hum of electricity and our breath.
In this moment I breathe deep and watch as the light swings in her direction. I see her arm and the meat that clings to it. It is radiant, and off-white, like cheese cloth but more human. I see her hips as well, nestled beneath her floral print skirt, that I have ran my fingers across many times before, and taken off in our more intimate moments, when I still felt alive. Slightly above the skirt, I can see her hip bone sticking out. More then it has in some time. It looks like she lost weight, maybe too much. It doesn’t matter she soon fades into the darkness of the room and the light swings my way. I pull my hands deep from within my pockets and curl them into fists. The bones beneath form into four solid tan points—I open them and stare at my fingers. I have gotten a bit heavier, even looking at my hands I can tell. My fingers no longer look sleek and athletic. They are bloated fat, like me, or how I have become. My shirt doesn’t fit right either; it feels pasted against my body, while I bulge out around it. I wonder if she notices I hope she doesn’t.
The light swings back in her direction. I see her face, her lips, her eyes and they are still pretty and keen, and they haven’t changed. Though I wish they did. It would make all of this so much easier. She seems calm, collected unsuspecting. Her eyes are warm and comforting, resonating with familiarity. She soon fades out of view again. The light shines brightly in my face. I hear her cough lightly and wonder if she is ok. I wish I could ask, but forgot how to speak to her. Above us the light stops swinging, illuminating only the center of the room. Both of us stand for a while in this darkness, before she steps into the light. She stares into the void waiting for me to join her. My heart beats beneath my ribs clunking heavily against the bone. Sweat forms on my forehead and my mouth runs dry. I click my tongue a few times, and listen to her sigh. More time passes–maybe a few minutes or an hour, its really hard to tell. She motions for me to join her and I stay where I am. She motions again. In the light she is beautiful. Her features are brightened and highlighted. I can see the valley between her lips and nose, her tiny mole, her warm green eyes that always made me think of Ireland. Her hair falls in auburn sheets across her forehead that her nimble fingers sweep into puddles on the side of her head. I grit my teeth and stay paralyzed. Frustrated, she throws up her arms and steps back into the darkness.
More time passes and I am overwhelmed with the desire to move. Finally after much debate I step forward into the center. Immediately, she runs forward to embrace me. Her long arms wrap around my body, and push me into her chest. My arms dangle useless at my sides, my body rises and falls with her breathing. Our hearts pound in unison before I slide out of her arms. She looks confused and hugs me again. Again, I slide out from her arms. She tries a third time and this time I push her away–she falls hard on the ground and looks up at me. Her eyebrows are arched and her head is tilted to the side. Her lip quivers and she screws up her eyes. I turn my back, and fade out of the light–moving toward the door, only to feel fingers tugging on my shirt, pulling hard, harder then I expected. In a moment I lose my balance, as a final tug sends me toppling back on her. The force of her is so strong my shoes rip off my feet. I grit my teeth and curl my hands into concise cannon balls. My back gets warm and so does my chest.
. With all my weight and momentum, I flip around to pin her. She freaks out and writhes beneath me. Sliding against my body, serpentine and fluid, impossible to keep in one spot. Her arms flail wildly, her fists pounding against my ribs my back and my head. Hot Pain blooms beneath my skin, while I try and drive her shoulders to the ground. My shirt sticks to me and a fresh layer of perspiration coats my body. My muscles tighten, I drive harder. My socks try to gain footing on the surface, but slide like crazy. Her hands claw wildly at my face and I can feel warm blood dribble out. Suddenly her knee catches me right in the chest, and I roll off of her, onto my back gasping, trying to breathe. Pain fills the cavity between lung and bone and I cant breathe. She looks at me for a while, her upper lip tucked into her lower one, and her eyebrows fluctuating, and the muscles in her face shifting emotions from anger to sympathy. Slowly she crawls over to put her hand on my me. With a bolt of energy I try to move away and crawl towards the door. I am too slow and she catches me by the ankle and pulls me back with all of her might.
She is on top now, punching me with one hand and pinning me with the other. I squirm as much as I can, yet eventually give up and let her hit me for a while. Blood sprays out of my nose and eyebrows while my flesh feels like it is exploding with heat. After a while I flip her off of me. Frantically I throw my body on top of hers and try to keep her down. My heart pumps even harder and I can feel the veins in my neck moving to the rhythm of my body. I press my knees into her chest and punch her in the belly as hard as I can. Her face convulses in weird red spasms that I find too surreal, too actual, to be authentic. Everything goes silent after that except for the increasing hiss of the electricity.
As I force my weight on top of her she reaches up, and tears one of my ears off. I screech in pain and roll off. Blood pours out the side of my head, onto her face, mixing with her tears. I in turn do the same, only I grab a bit of her back and yank the skin off. She screams too, much louder then me, and I can tell that this scream is real. Her blood sprays too, all over me. Its warm and vibrant, unlike mine, that looks grey under the hollow light of the dark room. In a moment she is back on top of me, her fingers curl around my nose and pull it off, leaving me with a gaping crater of a face. More pain rushes to the point. I feel sick, as a familiar salty taste fills my mouth. She laughs slightly, pleased with herself, until I stealthily slip my hands under her shirt and grab hold of her breasts. More tears streak down her face and a low whimper of self anguish hums beneath the buzzing. Suddenly the sound of them ripping from her chest cuts through everything. Red explodes from her in a thick gooey wave and she falls off of me. She tries to crawl away. I chase after her looking to inflict more damage. My heart beats even harder and feels like it is going to burst. I grab hold of her waist. She looks back at me. Her eyes are glazed over. She pivots around and carefully, deceptively tears my penis off. I rupture from the middle, caught in a frenzy of anger and agony, vomiting up what feels like my intestines.
I open my mouth to speak, but cant find the energy to do anything but cry. I cry hard loud heavy sobs, while trying to mouth, “I’m sorry,” but only having the words rest on my lips. She collapses on top of me. Seemingly beyond tears–too tired to do anything but lay here and listen to the increasing roar of the static. In this moment I feel hollowed by my decision, wishing there were a way to put us back together again. In a moment, after the static dies down, she whispers, “is this really what you want?” too tired to answer, I nod. She sniffles a bit, but wipes her face and stands up. Slowly she picks up her pieces and walks towards the door–God...where do i go from here?