I hesitate. I don't want to answer the door, but I don't want Noah to do it either. It isn't fair that I force him to answer my problems when they come knocking. I wish I could I just run to my bedroom. What used to be our room. Used to be our sanctuary from reality.
I can’t believe I’m still dying over all this. Of course, I should be a little easier on myself. After all it was a ten year mistake. I could’ve been doing something else useful during that time. Like not being in love with a jerk that dumped me at the altar. Like being my own independent and beautiful person. I could’ve been doing all that. Maybe married now with a baby on the way, with a man who appreciated me and loved me more than anyone else. Maybe in a different scenario I would end up with someone like Clark Samson, instead of just playing around.
I'm rambling and David is still waiting on the other side of the door.
Before I can say anything, my hesitation gets the better of me and Noah answers the door, allowing me to escape to my room. I'm such an idiot. I bang my head against the door and immediately regret it. Why did I do that? Because that is just as intelligent as forcing my best friend to have to deal with my ex. I'm a coward. Good Job, Abra. You're doing well, aren't you?
I hear the door close and I sneak back out toward the living room, peering around the corner. Noah is holding something in his hands. He seems irked, but no more than he was before. Of course, that was at me, maybe his displeasure has been aimed elsewhere by David's, oh so, inconvenient interruption. Well, inconvenient for Noah.
“What did he want?” I ask. Though, I'm pretty sure I know. Rent is due tomorrow.
“He was dropping off his portion of the rent. He was in a very sour mood.” Which explains why Noah looks annoyed. He hands me the check.
I can't help but smile at it. Like an idiot, I might add. I can't help that it still makes me giggle that he is stuck with me until the end of the lease. Or I find a roommate. Either way he gets to be uncomfortable for a little longer and I get to feel like I'm taking some small portion of vengeance.
“What is going on with you, Abra? What is going on inside your head? You are acting strange.” He pauses and then adds, “Okay, stranger than normal. Seriously, though. What is going on?”
“I’ve decided I no longer care, that's all.” I say, moving toward the kitchen. I realize I can’t continue living here, too many bad and wonderful memories. The lease is up in two months or so. I should start packing now.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Noah grabs my shoulders and turns me to face him. “Tell me, Abe. We’ve been friends for a long time; don’t try to diminish that by pretending that I don’t know that something is wrong.”
“I slept with Clark Samson last night. That is what you want to hear, isn’t it? I slept with him and I enjoyed it. For the first time since David, I really and truly enjoyed myself. I enjoyed it more than I ever did with David. And I’m not going to hold back from experiencing it with other people.”
“Oh babe, you aren’t going to find what you are looking for that way.” He looks disappointed. I hate that look.
“What am I looking for, Noah? What am I looking for that I can’t find in the arms of another man? Or woman, as the case may or may not be.”
“You do know that sex doesn’t equal love, right? That it doesn’t equal fulfillment or anything like that?” He looks at me very seriously. Of course I know these things. But for a few moments it’s easy enough to believe that sex does equal those things. For a few moments the whole world melts away and you can make-believe that you are in love and fulfilled. Well, filled anyway.
“I’m not doing it to get fulfillment, Noah. Nor am I seeking love. Love is a poison and I’ve had enough of it. I’ve just decided to live out some of those break-up songs that I hear on the radio. I’ve just decided to date who I want and then decide when I’m done. I’ve decided to do what I want, because I’ve lost all desire to care.”
“You are going to date people in the hopes that it will end up matching a situation in a break-up song? Doesn’t that seem a little stupid to you?”
“Well, yes. But the idea of not caring any more because of one relationship seems a little stupid too.” I shake myself out of his grip and start marching toward my bedroom.
“No, that is the only part that makes sense!” He says. He follows me to my bedroom. “David is the only man you’ve ever been with. Well, was the only man you had ever been with. It is not that strange that you would be devastated by the break-up. I mean, you almost married him! Of course you are going to be numb and not care. I felt the same way after my break-up with Matthias. Surely you remember how devastated I was. I couldn't eat or sleep. I was a nervous wreck, I was depressed as hell.”
Several snarky and uncharacteristic comments pop into mind. I ignore them and flop down on my bed. It is a failing attempt to cover up the tears that are welling up. I don't want to cry. Not again. Not anymore. I want to be happy and do whatever the hell I want, with who I want. I want to be with Clark until I decide that I need to move on.
"You are just failing to realize that I've lost my mind." I mumble.
"No, I've noticed. I am just trying to reason with the small part of your mind that must still be in there somewhere."
He sighs and sits on the bed next to me. I peek up at him. He is staring off into space. Unexpectedly, he lies down next to me and pulls me into his arms. I don’t know why, but this makes the tears I’ve been fighting come. He holds me, in my bed, until I’m all cried out. We lay like this for awhile. I don’t even know how long. I’ve lost track of time in this insanity. He kisses me on the cheek and wipes away a stray tear or two. A sweet best friend, that I don't deserve.
Sometimes, like right now, I wish he wasn’t gay. I could be in love with Noah. I wonder if we would’ve been happy if things had worked out differently. I suppose, however, there is no use in daydreaming on it. I wouldn’t change him for the world. Just being here with him is good enough.
Nothing has changed, however. I am still going to go through with my plan. I consider this to be the sexual equivalent of cutting myself. I know it is harmful, but I don’t know any other way to express the emotions and non-emotions I feel. I don’t know how else to communicate with that part of me.
Though a part of me doesn't want him to leave, I urge Noah to go home. That I'll be fine. I'm going to take a hot bath and then relax for the rest of the afternoon. Maybe watch a sappy movie. He asks if he should come back after my bath and watch it with me. I tell him not to worry about it. He has work tomorrow like I do.
"Are you sure?" He asks.
"I'm sure. I'll be fine." I force a smile. Right this moment I just want to be alone. Maybe listen to those break-up songs. Take a nice long bubble bath in my big claw foot bath tub. Plan my next move maybe? I kiss Noah’s cheek and close the door behind him.
As the water warms, I get the CD I was listening to when I left my mother’s house on homecoming night. Clark will need a song. Which song shall I re-create? To be honest, I hadn’t actually thought about re-creating the scenarios in break-up songs so much as just having something to kind of relate to. I won’t tell Noah that he actually gave me an idea. A little bit worse of an idea too. I think he already feels guilty enough without me adding to it.
I sink into the hot, soapy, water and turn the music on. The first song is Alanis. Her scathing lyrics fill my bathroom with rage. That song belongs squarely on David's shoulders. No other song fits so perfectly. If only I could stay angry. When I see him all of the old feelings flood up to the surface.
I want as sweet a break-up with Clark as possible. No broken hearts, no tears. Just a soft parting of ways. Just a softly spoken goodbye. Are those kinds of break-ups possible? Is it possible to be friends with former lovers? I've been so naive and sheltered when it comes to relationships. I should've left David years ago.
Thinking of Clark makes me feel all fuzzy and warm inside. I feel a little drunk, except I haven't been drinking. Maybe I should actually try with him. Maybe we could be happy? Or maybe we wouldn't be.
Its moments like this that I wish I was a poet or a writer in general. I'd have so much material to work with. I'd be up to my eyeballs in sappy, heart-ache crap. Enough to write a novel, a book of short stories and a book of poetry. Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but I could write a lot.
I've been so deep in thought my water has gone cold and my CD is skipping. I shiver as I drain the tub and stop the CD. I wrap a big, fluffy, towel around myself and pad my way into the bedroom. Snuggles is sprawled on my bed, napping. I rub his head as I walk to my vanity.
I notice some dark circles under my eyes. I wish I could sleep like I did in Clark's arms every time. I've never felt so secure. Not even with David. Whom I've decided to refer to as jerk-who-shall-go-un-named.
I suppose its time to tally the toll all this has taken. I've lost fifteen pounds from not eating. I've lost the will to look beautiful. I don't sleep. And when I do it is the worst sleep ever. My honey-gold hair looks lackluster and my cocoa colored eyes have lost their shine. I've become a slut. All because of one measly ten year relationship. One stupid jerk-who-shall-go-un-named. What an asshole.
Its only four o'clock and I want to give up for the day. I am just about to go take a nap when my phone rings. The caller ID lists a number I don't recognize. I don't think I'll answer it. I don't know if I want to answer. I debate, internally of course, for a moment.
"Hello?" I say.
"I know the rule is three days," says a sexy voice similar to that of Sam Eliot. "but I couldn't stand to wait. Do you want to go get dinner tonight?"
"Clark? Didn't we just have breakfast?" I giggle.
"I know, I know. But won't you be hungry again in two hours or so?" He sounds so sweet. I really do want to go out with him tonight. If only to feel like I'm not completely alone. Maybe we could have a repeat of last night (without the crying) and I can get some well-deserved rest.
"Sure," I say. "why not? Where do you want to meet?"
We decide on an Albanian restaurant downtown. I say I'll meet him at seven. He lingers on the line for a moment before hanging up. Sounds like he likes me too.
I know what song I want to remember Clark by. After all we've been through, I know we're cool.
It hasn't been very long, but already I'm thinking of breaking up with him. We aren't even officially dating yet and I'm thinking of ending this fledgling relationship. Common sense says to give it a couple months and then bail, but my heart is terrified I'll fall in love with him.
I'll give it a couple months. I can't bail now, that defeats the point of break up songs and random relationships with random people. This isn't what I wanted. This isn't what I want. I'm too deep to get out now, though.
Take a deep breath. Close your eyes. Here's to the plunge.
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