It’s a frosty night and I am cold. I pull the folds of my jacket around tighter and the hood of my hoodie more snug around my ears. Aaahhh why didn’t I remember to put on gloves. My fingers are going numb so I warm them with my breath and then jam them into my pockets. All of sudden I hear laughter and voices coming my way. I duck down and hold my breath. It is only then that the realization of where I am washes over me and I shiver again this time not because of the cold. You see I’m sitting on top of a baseball dugout on a baseball field…not playing baseball… in the middle of the night. Hmmm Interesting. Now to do this I had to hop a small fence and shimmy and hoist myself ( not without effort) over onto the low slung roof and into the position I am now Freezing in!
The voices move past me and I feel safe enough to rise up and then I see it. The flicker of a light that has gone on in the room across the way. I am here on top of the dugout because it is directly across from the room of my Hunky, Cocky, Sexy, Obsession. And I am Crazy Stupid in Lust /Love! Aaaahhh my head pounds and my insides do flip flops. I flinch as he moves past the window again taking off his shirt. How could I get so lucky more please!! And then I see her. HER!! The girl he “proclaims” to care nothing about. The girl who is “too skinny and un attractive to look at twice” Her! She’s in there with him. My breath catches in my throat and I am no longer cold. I am blood boiling angry! And it’s not at him it’s at myself. After 8 months of the hushed late night , shhhhh only in private never in public, seat creaming maybe he will call or nod his head at my existence torture. I am Angry and I am done!! Oh Thank Merciful Father God in Heaven! I am DONE. I’ve tried to be done before. But tonight as I sit shivering in the cold as she lays warm in his arms. I feel like the idiot stalker that I am. And somehow I am snapped out of my stalker revelry!! I know for sure if he really liked me he would like me in the Light around his Friends in the Halls in his room. He would be “ready” for a girlfriend. He would call when he said and we would laugh and talk and make out. I know at that moment “He’s just not that into me”. And I painfully, tragically, moaning-ly… move on…
I am standing staring at 2 dozen of the loveliest roses you can imagine. They are candle apple red long stemmed and they have just arrived. My new roommate comes up from behind and whistles her approval ( I wish I could whistle like her all low and sexy). I feel something on my face and I reach up to brush it away only to find that it is my tears falling skip hop down my cheeks . It’s done it’s over. The marriage. Where there was hope there is now only empty sadness. This does not come as a blow it’s been awhile coming. I mean I have already moved out. Instead it is like a brisk gust of wind, strong enough to make your eyes water not enough to make you wear a coat. I lay the card that I’m sure tells me how much he loves me on the table and I walk away. In my minds eye I see his puppy dog eyes as he watches me not knowing what to do or what to say. I see him on the couch drinking beer and watching Aliens for the 200th time (literally). I see him lifelessly waiting tables ( a job I got him) as he pockets cards from Executives offering him jobs. ”I’m not really what they are looking for” Well how do you know? ”I just do”. Well why would they give you their card?” a shake of the head on his way to another beer. I see the counseling sessions that I drag him to and the countless talks “What do you need? What can I do” as I hustle to job number 3 and back from rehearsals on my way to an audition. I buy myself tulips on my way home from acting class they were only $4.99 they are my favorites. I hate roses. I wipe the tears as I pack my bags. I know for sure – We can only change ourselves no one else. You can help all you want but in the end everyone has to decide to help themselves. You can stay and suffocate or Love yourself enough to leave. No one has to be wrong but the relationship has to feel Right!
I am arguing at a pay phone. My head is pounding and I really can’t remember what this particular argument is about. It’s a way of life for us now. He laughs and says we are Italian it’s fine. ( We aren’t Italians and they can’t be this miserable) What I do know is that I always end up confused and apologizing. Somehow it’s my fault. Oh right I remember… he didn’t show up to get me the other day. I waited and waited and I could have hung out with my girls who I haven’t seen for ages. In the back of my mind I think he did it on purpose. He doesn’t like my girls cuz they questions how he’s treating me. ”That’s so petty” ( well if the shoe fits) ” I would never do that” I just forgot is all ( We had tickets and I was calling). Fine!! “Just come pick me up already” I say as I slam the phone down. It has started to rain and fearing for my hair I rush back to the house and past my roommate who is Still on the phone. Such a phone hog. I rush upstairs and finish putting on my clothes. I shimmy into a new dress all my dresses are new these days. And brush my hair the way he likes it. My mind is a blank as I put on my mascara I have willed it so. Silence is the best policy in times like these. I’ll be fine I just need to go out! He pulls his shiny Lexus up to the club and immediately we are whisked past the velvet rope and into the VIP section. I smirk as I feel the wanting eyes following me as I move. Uh huh VIP ALL THE WAY BABY!! The dull ache of my headache still lingers. I close my eyes waiting for the “FEELING” to pour over me. Damn! I must ” NEED a Drink”! I yell this to him over the music. He pauses, and in the pause I remember. Sh#^%T he needs money! Annoyed I reach into my purse and hand him 2, $20′s that should cover a drink and gas to get us home later. I mean he did get us in. We’re even right? We are moving to the beat but somehow his sexy body and the pulsating music do nothing for me. He leans in to whisper something in my ear…is his breath stinky? Yep. I turn and walk off of the dance floor and then keep walking until I hit the door (where I nod at his friend Todd) and then I keep walking until I see a Taxi. I can hear him behind me trying to catch up and calling my name. I turn and blow him a kiss…”You’re Right I’m Wrong” I say. But I’m done. I want peace and harmony. No flakes and facades. THINGS won’t make me happy. Being with someone should make me feel better in my skin not worse. Trust your instincts. Keep your friends.
I am coughing and my throat is raw from my effort. My eyes are bloodshot and my hair lays in a disheveled heap on my head. I look up to a steaming cup of something and I manage a weak smile as it is handed to me. ”It’s beyond nasty but it will kill whatever this is” he says. The eyes are questioning though gentle the tone is reassuring. I nod my head taking the cup in hand and steady myself for the onslaught. And true to his word it is amazing in it’s awfulness. It lingers where it shouldn’t and I am perfumed with it’s insistent scent. YUCK! But days later I do indeed feel better. He is relieved…I am pitiful in my gratefulness. Death by unknown bubonic in my twenties…please I need to speak to the writer. I had been in this state for more than a month and he’s only known me for 6 months. It’s nothing like starting to date a girl with the plague. I am restless, he is steady. I am bacon he is vegetarian. I am rock he is jazz. I am free form he has schedules. He is hesitant I am sure of hand. He is resistant I am dazzling. I give space he comes closer. Always always…he is kind, he is truthful, he is interested, he is straightforward. We Blossom. We are laughter, we are sexy, we are grace, we are silly, we are committed, we are visionary, we are freedom, we are 17 years…