archive #008

Livejournal 28-07-2007

And Darling

***

I was amazed really, amazed how easily breathing came to me. In and out, in and out. My heart was beating at a normal pace, my throat felt normal; the times before it had been swollen from sobbing, and I would sit with red-rimmed eyes. I closed my eyes and breathed out. I watched the cigarette smoke curling up into the air through my eyelashes. I leaned against the doorframe of the balcony. Funny, she had me so trained in smoking outside I even did it when she was gone. I inhaled deeply again and pondered about going inside. Though, what would I find? Or rather, what wouldn’t I find? The realization had only come when I’d opened the wardrobe and it was half empty. The first thing I’d noticed was the lack of the bright red strapless dress. I’d found it slightly disturbing, that red, that vibrant red was usually my eyesore, yet now that little familiarity was gone. It was in the little things, the pair of shoes missing in the hall, the coat that was gone, the pair of car keys that no longer hung on its place on the wall, and the vodka. She’d taken the vodka. I grimaced, that must’ve been to spite me. She wanted me to suffer in sobriety.

I dropped the cigarette which nearly burned my finger, twisted my foot to extinguish it, but in that movement I lit another. No, I wouldn’t go inside. It’d make it all too real, too tangible, right now I just wanted to breathe, inhale and live.

The neighbour at the other side of the street was looking at me. When our eyes met he waved tentatively. I nodded back. It was a mutual recognition. He’d already lived here when we’d moved in. His balcony across mine, close enough perhaps, if our arms stretched out far to touch, brush the tips of the other’s fingers. We never tried.

He came back again after a while, and gestured something at me, it took me twice to understand he wanted me to come over and have a drink. I cursed inwardly. Had the news spread so fast? The two lesbians from twenty-four B. had broken up. Oh, let’s all comfort our self-indulgence in an act of pity. Drag me down to make you feel better, oh sir, you are a saint. Or perhaps, perhaps I just looked so sad and pitiable; a shivering little girl who needed her smoke to make her feel better. Sure my eyes weren’t red, sure I hadn’t cried, but a dismissed creature like me should be recognizable. People had an antenna for suffering. It was the bleeping sound on their radar. They liked being around it. That was what the whole theatre industry was based off wasn’t it? Let’s watch the tragedy, dating as far back as the Grecian times, oh Zeus, misery feels so good.

I gestured at him I’d come, I violently got rid of my cigarette, as if it would mean getting rid of irrational thoughts, and left the house. I couldn’t quite bother to lock the door, but within meters my mind caught up with me and I took they key from my pocket and turned it in its lock. See, there I was, perfectly calm, not affected by anything. I was locking my door like every other day. I was in control.

***

“Who’s there?” “It’s me! Open the door.” There was a click, a buzz, and I opened the door, to ascend the stairs towards his apartment. He’d opened the door already. I walked in without announcing myself. Sniffed some, it smelled badly, the mail was on the floor. A quick glance told me it was at least from a week. I felt myself cringe inwardly. They needed a housekeeper. She had always called me a pathological cleaner, when I spent more than ten minutes vehemently trying to get rid of a stain, she couldn’t see. It didn’t matter anymore what she’d said, though. She was gone.

He was in the kitchen. I leant against the doorframe. He muttered some greeting without turning about. I felt relief, at least he wasn’t going to hug me, and be overtly compassionate. I still resented him for asking me over out of pity, but who was I to reject a free drink?
“You can sit down on the couch if you want.”
“Sure.” I turned and inspected the living room, which looked like as if a tornado had been through, normally I would’ve made a soft hiss at it, but I sank down on the couch. I fished out Jenna’s bra from underneath me and tossed it away somewhere. Within a minute my neighbour came in he put down too glasses and poured them, and sank down his own chair.
“Sorry, I didn’t ask you what you wanted or how you were.”
“That’s alright,” I said, “I wasn’t going to answer anyway.” He looked bad, terribly tired, with large bags under his eyes. I watched his trembling hands and wondered whether he’d fall apart if I breathed too hard. He grabbed his glass quite firmly, looked at me. “Well, cheers,” and threw his head back finishing the glass in a single gulp. I took my glass amazed by the peasantry behaviour, and then I realized I didn’t care too much.
“I didn’t know you smoked.” I said pointing at the ashtray.
“I didn’t know either…” he said while looking terribly miserable.

Suddenly, it dawned me. That asshole! I wasn’t here for me at all. He’d seen me doing what I’d been doing five times a day or more a day the last two years; smoking on my balcony. I wasn’t here because of pity. He couldn’t really care less whether it was me here or somebody else. I was here for company. I was here so he wouldn’t drink alone. Damn him! I felt fury now even more, fury for him being so selfish and not being able to tell I was miserable too. What right did he have to drag me into this without taking my feelings into account? Damn him! I took another gulp. The alcohol burned down my throat, and calmed me again. He couldn’t take me into consideration, poor soul. He took it far heavier than me.
“Philip, Jenna is gone, isn’t she?”

Then he exploded he put the glass down with a clang and started pacing around the room. “How could she! How could- damn that witch! I tried to explain, but would she listen? No! Because she never listens. Because apparently all I do it yell at her, but who is it who-“

“Philip?”

“- always screams threatening to call her mother? I didn’t do anything! It was she who always lost control. But you know, maybe she’s right-
“Philip!”
“-Maybe I’m just not a good boyfriend. Maybe I messed up indeed, well I’ll show her! I’ll-“
“Goddamnit! Philip, sit down!” I suddenly burst out. He looked at me in sudden surprise as if he just saw me for the first time.
“I- Sorry Emma, I don’t know what happened just now.”
“You look like hell.” I said, well patting next to me on the couch so he’d sit. “How long haven’t you slept?”
He sat down heavily, leaning back on the couch. “I’m not sure, two or three days, perhaps.”
I believed him completely. He slumped slightly, and he looked cross-eyed. Not quite daring to question myself on whether it was a good idea or no, I filled his glass again and handed it over. “Here drink some more.” I glanced at the empty bottles, scattered on the floor. How much had he had in these days? Men were such idiots, far too emotional. I felt odd. I seemed quite unable to feel any compassion towards Philip, as if my own broken emotions were too much to let anyone else in.

He didn’t chuck it backward like he had done before, but held the glass tightly as if he meant to hold on to the crystal as if it was support. He stared into endlessness. “I meant to marry that girl. Planned it weeks ago… to propose… right here… made dinner and all.” I realized this was a story I didn’t want to her, I didn’t want to be the listening friend the support not after I’d expected him to be so for me, I awkwardly put my arm around him and patted him on the back.

“-this stupid argument, Gods so stupid… and I couldn’t stop about it, and she went on and on and on.” He rubbed his eyes with an already dirty sleeve, his voice slurred a little. “And I,” hiccough, “I-I started yelling, and she got to screaming… screamed so loud, so loud… She wouldn’t stop! I couldn’t help it! Really! I have the ring here. I ne-never meant to hit her.” He buried his head in his arms shaking and sobbing. “Gods… it so stupid… so fucking stupid… Gods Emma… What have I done? What have I done?! God… Gods…”
I felt entrapped by his guilt and sobbing. It made me feel helpless. Pity unwillingly crept into me, like poison ivy that seeped it roots deep into my flesh. I leant close holding him, and telling him to calm down, that it’d be alright. Soothed and rocked him as if he were a little child. Philip grabbed hold of me and started sobbing on my shoulder. I tried not to wince thinking of the stains it’d make. For a while we sat. He kept on talking about Jenna, what had gone wrong, how he drowned in his own self pity and guilt.

The amount of alcohol blurred the words and emotions. Not much later tears were crawling their way over my cheeks as well. Half an hour later we sat in a tight hug. I held him against my chest and my words were of how Jenna had made a mistake and all would be fine. “She’ll come back.” I said more to myself than to Philip. “You’ll see, she’ll be back.” My own voice was hoarse. His breath had eased and evened. He smelled of alcohol and sour of sweat, from not washing for a few days. Soon he was emitting snores, and the weight of his relaxed body was too much for me to bear. I positioned him carefully on the couch, and tried to find him a blanket in the mess. In the end I dragged the duvet from his bedroom and covered him with that. I put the glasses away, little good it did, flicked of the light and left.

In my own apartment I sat on my bed. The whole apartment was strangely cold. I felt sour, bitter and sticky. My mind was working vividly, but it was less occupied with her now, rather I felt disgusted by Philip, how he’d was so weak, as helpless as a baby without Jenna. I got up and opened my half empty wardrobe. I set to work; I resorted all my clothes until they looked as if they filled everything again and no plank was left empty. I undressed and crawled into my bed after removing one of the pillows and putting mine in the middle. I closed my eyes and decided I would not dream of her, and drifted off.

***

“Emma!” the voice rang through the little parlor. Bright and colourful her voice was, I noted that with a slightly weak stomach. “I’m so glad you came, really I am.” She sat down across me, smiling wide she had pink lip-gloss on which made the light shimmer on her lips as she spoke. “I was afraid that you wouldn’t answer to my message, afraid you wouldn’t want to see me.”
I nodded, I felt awkward, diminished in my presence by her rich and exuberant nature. “I got your message, and was curious on how you were as well. How is life in London?”
“Oh it’s wonderful, absolutely lovely, the people are great, and they have finally accepted my pictures for the Bellevue magazine.” She spoke quickly, smiling wide. Her bright green eyes were sparkling. She wore a summer dress, grass green with a slight pattern on the top, low-cut. It displayed her neck and necklace, which were embraced by her chestnut curls.

“That’s… great.” I managed, I was glad to be disturbed by the waiter. “A double espresso and a café macchiato.” I ordered it without thinking.

“You remembered.” She said delighted, I nodded. How could I not? We’d had coffee here too often and it was always the same. In truth, she’d never been one for experimenting with different things.
“So how have you been here in Leeds?”
“Same old, still writing my column, and I handed in a manuscript for a novel; fictional this time rather than art history.”

She nodded eagerly, but when she realized I had finished she began talking again. It was a waterfall of words which kept emphasizing how wonderful London was, and how easily you got connected with wonderful people, and their wonderful allure, and the wonderful atmosphere. She’d found wonderful apartment, with wonderful view. Eventually I gathered everything in London was wonderful. She resembled a record player stuck on one song. By the end I started counting how many times she said wonderful and barely listened to her anymore. Just watching the lips move and her face beam, I wondered whether she actually breathed between her words. Had she always been like this? I felt queer watching her like this. Slowly the glow around her seemed to fade. As if I’d put sunglasses on and the bright light no longer blinded me.
“-and later on Sonya will come by. She’s absolutely wonderful. You’ll adore her.”
“Wait? Sonya?” I asked surprised waking up from my meandering thoughts..
“Oh? I thought you knew she’s my new… er, partner.”
I felt a slight pang of jealousy, for a moment I was out control. How could she? But then I relaxed, envy faded as quickly as it had come.
“That’s very nice.”
She seemed to be aware of the awkwardness of the situation, which surprised me rather as she was silent for a moment, but then asked. “And you? Are you dating again?”
I remembered I was indeed and nodded. “Yes, yes I am.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’s wonderful.”
“He. Yes, he’s very nice.”
“It’s a guy then.” She failed to hide her surprise. “wow…” she tried to regain herself, and laughed nervously. “haha, that would nearly make me feel like some experimental phase.”
I wondered, whether I truly sensed that insecurity, that uncertainty. I remembered how she left me again, without a word, she completely disappeared, something in me wanted to do something that stung her, but then decided the better of it.

“I don’t think so, who knows, this might be one.” I finished my double espresso and got up, “I’ve got to run. Thanks, it was nice seeing you again.”
“Yes, it was indeed, I’ll call you.” I knew she wouldn’t do so, “and tell me when your book gets published.” And I knew I wouldn’t do that.

I walked towards the exit, and then a woman rushed past me “Sharon, there you are.” I turned and saw her kissing her on the cheek. Sonya, I gave her a quick look. She looked the sophisticated type. She wore brown and thin glasses. She’d be the type that’d discuss Shakespeare and art effortlessly and wore long black evening dresses at dinner meetings with friends from work; someone who’d go to modern art museums and discuss them with the terminology of an expert and found lesser progressing person dull and witless. I imagined they’d soon tire of each other and smiled. I walked outside and took my cell phone. “Hello, Nathan… that’s great, oh and darling, I was wondering, would you like to go out for dinner tonight... that’s lovely… See you then.”

finis