Hey there folks who keep reading my blog even when I let weeks and weeks go by without posting. Not to get too emotional on you (bleck) but you really have no idea how much I appreciate this. As a person who has had a passion for writing all their life I have dealt with a lot of rejection over the years. So many letters and emails with “Thanks but no thanks” all over them has done Blue Eyes White Dragon level damage to my ego and has sent me into many a drunken rant over the years. I have preached and harped on and on about how the industry is unfair and no one will give me a chance and don’t people realize I have an amazing talent?! But the simple truth is there are millions and MILLIONS of people trying to make it as writers and when you’re small time no one knows your name.
My point here is, I have so many stories that are just collecting dust on flash drives and in journals that I haven’t shared because I thought somebody should pay me something to see them…now I’ve learned that that kind of thinking is bullshit. So here’s the deal my friends, I am about to flood your internet screens with my words and hopefully you’ll enjoy them. Maybe you’ll enjoy them so much you tell your friends about me and then maybe people will start to like me…yeah they’ll like me and I’ll finally be the pretty one! (Don’t you judge me).
So without further ado here is The Morning After In Two Parts
It is morning now. We’ve just spent the night with one another. I now find myself in an impossible situation. A decision was made last night, a decision made at the end of evening full of questionable choices. A decision that could make or break us. I want to talk about what it all means but he is already texting someone on his cell phone. My mind is a blur of thoughts. Should I turn to him and tell him how I feel? Should I snatch that phone out of his hand and make him look at me? Should I kiss the skin right behind his ear and make him remember what we had shared just hours ago? I think all these thoughts one after the other, but instead I do nothing. I lay there paralyzed, desperately wanting to do something but it just isn’t in me to be a drama queen. It isn’t in my to cause waves on what appear to be calm waters.
He can’t really know what the silence is doing to me, or how I am starting to feel shabbier every second he doesn’t look at me, every second that he fiddles with that phone instead of talking to me. So I turn away from him and pick up my own cell phone. Quick scans through Twitter and Facebook and I am all out of distractions. No more buffer between the fact that I am in chaos and he is a million miles away. He still hasn’t stopped texting. Who could he possibly be talking to already? Some dark voice in my mind says it must be another woman and that she must be somebody damned important if he is already texting her so soon after finishing with me.
I want to punch that dark voice in the mouth because those are the last thoughts I want to hear right now. I need to get out of here. Even though this is my bedroom, in my apartment, I need to move now. So without another word I throw off the covers and get out of that bed. Let him think whatever the hell he wants to think, I know there is nothing I can do about it. From the corner of my eye I see him put the cell phone down.
“I’m being rude aren’t I?” He asks
“Extremely,” I say and walk into my bathroom
The first thing I want to do is clean the taste of him out of my mouth. I brush my teeth with a vigor that might seem extreme to some, but I was having an extreme kind of morning. He walks up behind me and watches over my shoulder. He says nothing and I just pretend he isn’t there. We stand that way, in a silence that is louder than it should be until he finally breaks it.
“You know I can tell when you’re upset.” He says softly
“You’re my best friend.” I say in return and then the full weight of my predicament hits me all over again.
We, as friends, have broken the ultimate rule, lines have blurred, and now everything we know about one another is different. I splash some water in my mouth and then move passed him back to my bedroom.
“Do we need to talk about this?” He asks me.
This? As if so simple a word could be used for what has just happened between us…This. I look into the eyes of my oldest friend and what I see is a guy that is completely clueless as to what is going on around his pretty little head. It is clear in that moment that sex between us really isn’t really a big deal to him and I am the only one standing there wondering if we have ruined things forever. So I do what I do best in situations where I feel too much and someone else clearly feels too little. I put on my mask.
“Talk about what?” And then I smile.
I see him hesitate. He knows that smile. We’ve been friends since we were kids and he knows what it means when I smile like that. It means that I am trying to remember that things will not always be as ugly as they look right now. I wait, and then I feel my heart crack in two when he returns my smile and squeezes my shoulder. He has just refused to see past the mask. My best friend ladies and gentlemen. I make my voice as lighthearted as I can manage at the moment.
“I’m gonna take a shower. We uhhh had a long night.”
I hear him laughing as I rush out the room. I turn the shower on and hope that the running water covers the sounds of me crying.
2 months later…
I am sitting at a coffee table alone and confused. My chamomile tea has just reached the perfect temperature for sipping. I blow on the brew one last time before drinking and it is perfect. I have always loved chamomile tea.
I am sitting at a coffee table in a local café alone but not for long because he is walking through the door. He catches my eye and I wave him over. He looks good. I hate to admit it but he does. Just as tall as I remembered damn him. I sit up a little straighter in my seat.
“You look good.” He says. It’s the first time I have heard his voice in a month.
“Thank you.” I take another sip of tea. I am cold, I am ice, I am not melting inside at the sound of his voice.
We stare across the table at one another and then we hit that terrifying moment. Many know it as an awkward silence but I call it a death trap. It’s a jagged gulch full of all the things you want to say but can’t. It has your secrets, hopes, insecurities, and all the shit you pretend you don’t feel and the longer you sit there the deeper it gets. I could feel it pulling me in. I could feel the pressure of words building behind my tongue but I choke them back and take the most direct route.
“Why did you want to meet?” I finally ask when I can’t take it anymore.
“I just wanted to see how you were holding up?” He says softly.
It sounds dangerously close to pity, that little extra note in his voice. I stare at him across the table. Taking a deep breath I still myself, using all my strength to keep from throwing my tea in his fucking face. How am I holding up? I’m terrible and he should know that. We’d spent almost half our lives together and now we could barely be in the same room with one another.
“I’m good.” I say aloud and take another sip of tea. He pulls a napkin from the dispenser on the table and rips it in half.
“I got that internship.” He says smiling.
I find myself smiling back slightly. I know how hard he worked to get that internship so I am genuinely happy for him.
“…you should come by and drink with us.”
“What?” I ask tuning back in. He frowns at me.
“I said I’m having a little celebration at my place and you should come.”
“No.” I say quickly looking down.
Just the thought of being in a room full of people asking me why I haven’t been coming around lately is making my head hurt. I don’t want to explain that I had slept with my oldest friend and that now I have trouble looking him in the eye because he treated me just like any other woman he had been with. I don’t want to explain that I had higher expectations than I should have because I love him and I want him to love me just as much.
“Why not? Come on you’re supposed to be my friend!”
My head snaps up. He can’t be serious. He just can not be serious. I have officially had it.
“Do NOT use the word friend with me!” I snap. “ You don’t even know what that word means at this point. See what you don’t know is how I dream every night. All kinds of dreams. Dreams that are amazing and horrifying at the same time. Dreams of death and monsters that end in love and you are in every single one of them.”
I am standing next to a coffee table in a café staring down at a hopeless situation. I am causing a scene and he is staring up at me dumbfounded. I put my half empty tea cup back on the table and walk out the door. I am halfway to my car when I feel him grab my arm. I stare at him and wait.
“I fucked it all up didn’t I? I pretended not to see how upset you were that day and then I acted like nothing happened. I am so sorry for that but you should know that you are not the only one who dreams.”
I open my mouth to speak but say nothing. The truth is I miss my friend and even though we had made a royal mess of things, I love him. It’s as simple as that.
“So I guess I’ll see you at your party,” He says and I smile for real this time.