She lay in bed- wishing the pain away. Having taken the pills to forget, to sleep, her mind wandered to the place that was forbidden. It wandered to his arms. The way he always promised to talk to her soon- sparking a hope she thought had died. Still, her mind drifted. There were distant memories fogged by the pills. Sleep was imminent.Â
Suddenly, something startled her from the hazy mist enshrouding her mind. A buzzing noise, unmistakeable, as it was her phone. Tempted to ignore it and fall to the clutches of sleep, she forced her eyes shut and then stole a glance.
His picture dazzled the screen. It was one she had taken herself months before. A quirky smile, playful, danced on his lips. She knew regret would follow if she didn't answer.
"Hello?" She attempted to make her voice sound full of sleep.
"Hey, what are you up to?"
"I'm in bed. Trying to sleep."
"Oh. Well, do you want to hang out?"
"I'm in bed trying to sleep. I have a concussion and took some sleeping pills and I have to be up for work early."
"What? How'd you get a concussion?!" he asked with genuine concern.
"My car did a 360 on the way home from work and my brain hit my skull. It's happened before so I went to the ER and I have a concussion."
"Oh, that sucks. Would you wanna hang out for a little? . . . I have to be home by 10. I work in the morning, too."
"No," but she felt herself giving in. The thought of not seeing him pained her so much. Responsibility always got pushed aside when it came to him.
"Really? I'll be over soon. You'll have time to play with the kitten," he said slyly. She felt there was another meaning behind his words but was still too groggy to even chuckle.
"Ok. See you soon." She pulled herself out of bed. It took a lot more than she bargained for. Instead of going to see her fairly new kitten, she hurried to bathroom counter.
"I look like Hell." She grabbed a quick bit of makeup to make her look less like the dead. Scrambling to find her favorite hoodie, she almost tripped over the damned kitten. Throwing the hoodie on, she moved down the stairs to find her jacket. Stumbling in the dark, she found her winter boots and pulled them on. A cigarette. That's what she wanted. The cold night air and the nicotine would jolt her system awake. Grabbing a jacket to put on over her mass of clothes, she opened the door.
As she sat, inhaling the deadly smoke, she wondered why she did this to herself. She knew it hurt. It was like a knife in her chest every time he left. She never knew when she would see him again- if she would at all. She often thought of just not answering his calls and texts. She thought of moving on in her life. She could really use someone stable- someone who would be there for her day in and day out. But being with him, it set her soul on fire. Whenever he knocked on her door, her heart fluttered.
"Damn it. Damn it all," she muttered. She knew she loved him. She knew he loved her. But it was an unspoken feeling. He had told her once, months before. She felt the same and spoke the words. A few days later, the calls stopped. His texts slowed until there was nothing. She was broken. It caused her a pain she hadn't felt in years. He put her in a funk that took months to come back from. It was utter despair. Sure, she held it together when around others- especially at work. But, as soon as she was at home, there was nothing. Always nothing. There was no more drawing, practicing music, writing- he had taken her life when he had left. As her life was always the arts, creating, having neither him nor it was a burden that almost took her life. She never attempted to end her life but the life she knew had ended and it shook her to the core. But, he came back. As is the pattern that developed. Gone for a time and then suddenly reappearing.Â
The worst of it all, this night, was that she had just been with him four days prior. He hadn't seen her more than once every month or two for 5 months. This night was out of sorts and she let it get to her. She let the sudden reappearance give her hope. And that was the worst of it. Because, in the end of it all, she had hope- and love. Of course she still loved him. Despite the frequent disappearances, she still loved him. She had convinced herself it was what she wanted- a full-time career and a sporadic love life. She made herself believe the yearning to be loved was not as worthy a feeling as the security of her job. She told everyone she was a career-woman and a lone wolf. But, deep down, she knew it to be a lie. She wanted love- a relationship. She wanted to create beauty in her life. All of it was pushed aside.Â
She took the last hit of her cigarette and put it out. She never could time it right- how long it took him to get from his place to hers. It didn't matter. She decided to spend some time with the kitten. At the same time, she felt she was doing it because he had said so. It didn't matter. She curled up on the couch under a blanket. The kitten snuggled into her lap. She could feel the grogginess set back in. So comfortable. She began to wonder if it had all been a dream- his phone call- and closed her eyes, almost hoping it had been. Then, she heard the screen door open and then the front door. Within seconds, there he was. Bundled up from head to toe in a fruitless effort to battle the temperature that had dipped into the negatives.Â
