P4
Days passed by. Maybe, it was really hard to tell. She didn’t care anyway. She completely lost her sense, including her perception of time. She felt stuck between a rock and a hard place.
The guys stayed at her house. There were so many empty rooms, she loved the company. Still, it made her extremely uncomfortable. It just didn’t feel right, and she still felt alone. Jonathan offered to sleep with her in her room, nothing sexual, of course, but she refused. That didn’t seem right either.
So the days just dragged on. It stopped raining. It hadn’t rained since her birthday. She really missed the rain. Even though it didn’t rain, the days were gloomy and dreary. The sun never really shined, and she was fine with that. It’s as if the rain was put on pause, and the clouds just continued to hover over wherever she went, which wasn’t really anywhere.
Life went on, but she stayed the same. She wanted to explode, break things.
One day she got out of bed, got all of the things that he gave her, all the cards, all the bears, everything.
She tore pictures and cards off the wall. She took everything out of her room that gave her memories of him. She shoved it all into a giant metal box and took it downstairs with her. “This shit is so heavy!” she complained.
She took it outside and set it down loudly. She ran back inside and got a box of matches. They guys followed her as she went back outside with the box of matches.
She stood next to the box and struck a match on fire. She hesitated and waited. It burned down too low and she burned her fingers, dropping the match onto the ground. Ignoring the pain, she stuck another one on fire. Same thing happened. She struck another one, and another one. She couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“Shit!” she cried out, falling to her knees on the cold pavement of her driveway. The guys went to her but she shooed them away. They stood by the house, waiting for her. She remained on the ground, but held her knees to her chest.
She stayed out there for hours. Maybe he would come if she got sick. Maybe he would come if I got hurt….
That was her mindset. But it wouldn’t work.
She sat and sat, but nothing changed.
After a few hours, when the sky grew dark - no stars out- she went back inside and set the huge metal box in the corner of her room. Out of sight, but never out of mind.
She sat in the middle of the couch and turned the TV on. Something popped up on the screen that was apparently appealing to the guys because they all ran to the couch in a matter of minutes. Jonathan took a seat next to her, and paid attention to her while all the other guys watched TV.
“Try smiling…” Jonathan said to her. She sat motionless, in a daze, and not noticing him. “Hey,” he said, a bit louder, and he poked her side. She spazzed out but didn’t crack a smile. “W-what?” she said, blinking a few times. “Smile for me,” he said, watching her intently. “Oh… uh…..” she flashed him one of those teethy, I don’t know how to smile kind of smiles. “That’s not a smile…” Jonathan said, shaking his head, “Laugh for me.”
She squinted her eyebrows together. Laugh? How does one laugh? She forgot. She didn’t really want to either, but she knew Jonathan would have none of that. She kind of spaced off for a few moments. Taking action by himself, Jonathan began poking her and tickling her sides. She bursted out into a fit of giggles.
She heard the front door open, and while still laughing, turned to look. It was him. The smile slowly faded from her face and Jonathan stopped tickling her.
“Sorry…” he stammered, looking down at the ground, “I-I… I just forgot… something.” He ran up into her room.
Everybody turned their attention back to the TV again.
-Jonathan recognized him though. He was the guy that glared at him from the overpass. Jonathan turned his eyes towards the TV, but kept an eye on her. She was staring at the stairs, waiting for something. Waiting for what?
Jonathan sighed in frustration and sunk into the couch. She still paid no attention to him and kept staring.-
‘Why is he… what..?’ she thought to herself. She kept looking over at the stairs, she knew she saw him, she didn’t make it up. But, all the other guys just kept doing what they were doing. ‘maybe I’m going insane…’ she thought to herself.
She finally heard footsteps and saw him running down the stairs, and quickly out the door. She couldn’t see his face clearly though. He was crying though, she just knew it.
She didn’t move at all. She was just dazed, purely stupefied. What could she do? Nothing. Nothing at all, right?
_________________________________________
He tossed and turned, every night for days on end. Everything was nothing, figuratively speaking. What went wrong?
Everything was going fine. Why did things interfere?
“Fuck!” he yelled into his pillow. Everywhere he looked, he wanted to see her, to feel her with him, but he couldn’t.
He went to hid desk and took out a small pile of papers from his drawer.
He took one out that read, “Things To Do.”
He was stuck in traffic for the longest time. He wasn’t too worried though, he still had a couple of hours left.
He already stopped by the jewelers, so he headed off to their personal baker. He ordered a giant cake, shaped like a cupcake. Weird, if you asked anybody else, but to her… he knew she’d just love it. It took him 1 1/2 hours to get there. traffic was unusually bad, it was a Monday. As soon as he found a place on the curb, he ran inside. He ran in and got to cut in front of the line. He would have to thank his friend later for the first priority service he had always given him. He rushed back out of the building and almost ran into a runner. He passed that heat, but then right after, a man running away with the purse bumped into him. He didn’t drop the cake, but set it on his car and ran after the man. The worst luck hit him then. While he was running to catch the man, the cake box popped slightly open, and it began to rain. Not heavy rain, but a light drizzle/pour. He tackled the man down and got the purse. He was thanked by an old woman multiple times.
He went back to his car to find his cake, not a huge mess, but not perfect enough for the love of his life. “Shit shit shit” he said out loud. He put the cake in the back of the car and sped off. He’d just have to bake one later, he didn’t want to screw his friend over, so he’d just make his own.
He drove down to the mall and walked into a white collar, high-end store. He was there to pick up the tailored suit he had specifically made for today.
They had it done, but when he went to go try it on, it was all wrong. Completely off. He was about to yell, but the employees said they’d take care of it.
He sat and tapped his foot impatiently. one to two hours later, they came back out with the suit. They explained that they were in the process of re-tailoring it, but one of the employees found that the tags were just mixed up.
He kept his anger in and thanked them. He ran out the door and back into his car.
He was really late now. He set the suit in the back and sped home. Sure, he could go to the restaurant now, but what was a birthday without a cake?
As soon as he pulled into his driveway, he started mixing, baking, and shaping. He was actually not too bad, and make a cake just like the one he ordered. He was just initially too lazy to make it.
He set the cake into a plastic box and made sure the top was on tight. He put it in the back of the car and sped off to the restaurant.
How late was he? He was supposed to be there 3-4 hours ago, before she got there.
Traffic went by slowly, very very slowly. All the honking going on outside muffled the sound of his cell phone ringing in the back of his car. He finally arrived, 6 hours late from his planned time, and 3 hours late from his planned start time.
He changed in his car while parked by the restaurant. The parking lot was barren for the whole place was reserved. He ran inside with the cake and the small box in his pocket. He gave the cake to the waiters and they had everything ready. He sat there for a few minutes in vain. He knew she wouldn’t be here, so what was he waiting for? Divine Intervention of course. That never came.
He ran back to his car and started trying to drive back home. There was so much traffic though, he drove right into rush-hour. He parked his car at the next open space, many blocks away from his house, and ran for it. The rain was now pouring and he was getting wet. He ran and ran for what seemed like hours. It was only 5-10 minutes. He arrived at his house and stepped in. He called for her, but got no answer. He knew she was there though. He saw droplets of water, probably from her wet hair or clothes, on the ground. He went upstairs….
He sighed sadly, thinking about that day again. He couldn’t get it out of his head. It was supposed to be the best day ever.
He hated planning. He hated being sentimental and gushy, but he would for her, He would do a lot of things out of his comfort zone for her.
What was he going to do? Nothing? he was basically doing nothing.
He had no inspiration. Nothing to aspire….
Just blah, everything was blah.
One day he decided to do something.
He realized, every fight they had, it was always her apologizing. It was always her who had the blame. It was always her who looked past her pride and did something about it.
He got into his car, wearing whatever he could find.Just dark jeans and a plain shirt.
He drove to her house and stepped out of his car. While hesitating on what to go next, he noticed a bunch of lit matches on her driveway. He wondered but made no conclusions.
He slowly walked up to her doorway and held his hand up to knock on the door.
He knocked once. Twice. Three times. Nobody answered.
She left the door open though, she always did. He laughed at a seemingly distant memory. He opened the door and saw her laughing, and that guy. The same guy from the mall the other day. The guy was tickling her. He wanted to go over there and sock him in the face, but didn’t. By now, everybody was looking at him, and she was too.
That face…. the face that just had that wonderful, beautiful, smile on it… after she saw him, she frowned.
He remembered when she smiled everyday she woke up next to him.
Instead of breaking down right there, he stammered out, “Sorry…I-I… I just forgot… something,” and he ran up the stairs.
He walked into her room and turned on the lights. Messy as ever. He looked around and everything was plain. Her walls looked like they’d just been raided and everything was just…. ripped away from where they were.
“That’s weird….” he said, walking around.
He looked around and his eyes wondered to a metal box in the corner of her room. He walked to it and opened it.
In it, he saw…. everything. All the memories they made and had. All the pictures, presents, cards. everything…
In the box, he saw small groups of ash. He saw some burnt out matches too.
Something clicked in his mind. She was going to burn it all. Was she really….?
‘How could she do that? Does she really think I don’t care…?’ he wondered to himself. He closed the box. He didn’t even notice that he had started crying. He just realized that he lost the love of his life.
He slowly walked out of her room and down the stairs.
When he got back down stairs, he ran for the door as quietly as he could. He ran out the door and stood out there. It began to pour. Rumbles of thunder could be heard in the distance. He started walking. Walking to where the beginning should have ended, and where the rest of their lives should have begun. He walked slowly through the rain. He brought a jacket, and had a car, but he didn’t want that. If nature wanted to take him now, it would.
He walked quietly, crying to himself in the cold rain.
