Tennessee

The next morning, I did not awaken to the shrill sound of my rusty alarm. I woke up to the sun. I stretched out on my paisley duvet. The gold wallpaper eased me. I stood up and my red auburn hair stood in all directions. I could hear Mary singing from outside. I stood up and got out, in search of coffee or tea.

"Mary!" I sang.

Her beautiful, curvy figure danced around the kitchen while she cleaned up the granite counters and left tidiness in her wake. She sang an old Blondie song and I sang along. It was infectious and we smiled a little. I whirled around, singing the words and whipped up a breakfast of wheat toast and honey.

Mary laughed as she sat down at the breakfast nook. I stirred my cup of tea and smiled out the window. I felt nostalgic and with nostalgia came pain. My smile drifted. My tears formed and I felt awful. I had let memories ruin yet another day. Mary put a mahogany hand on mine. My mouth began to move.


Spring

I was in Ben's apartment. It was sleek and modern, but still had a comfortable vibe that softened his harsh edges. I lay around on his couch and watched his cable television. It made mine look like a toy. Ben stepped out from his room and was searching for something.

"Have you seen my Blackberry?" he asked me.

"No," I said simply and munched on some granola he had in his kitchen.

"Are you sure? Call it," he murmured.

Soon I felt something underneath me vibrate.

"Oh! It's right here," I said, getting it out and handing it to him sheepishly.

"It looks like you pulled it right out of your ass," he murmured and began scrolling through it.

I laughed at his incredulous look.

"You know, I was thinking..." Ben started," My lease is almost up."

"Yup," I murmured, I was watching an old musical and my eyes remained on his plasma screen.

"We should find an apartment together," Ben called from inside his bathroom.

I stopped; the hand I was using to pig out with stopped midway to my mouth.

"What?" I asked.

"Move in. You. Me. Together," came his voice from the open door.

"Um..." I said intelligently.

"You practically live here already!" Ben called and abruptly a tattooed arm shot out of the room, only his arm, holding out a box of tampons I had in his bathroom cabinet.

"Hey!" I called and got up to enter the bathroom.

He was there in his boxers and tee shirt, shaving his face.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I don't know..." I murmured.

If I moved in with him... would that mean we would finally... um, sleep together? I mean, we had been together for five months already. We had said I love you. We spent as much time as possible together and it was true I practically lived with him. But we still hadn't... you know. It just never seemed like the right time. One time, Ben's celphone rang and it killed the mood. Another incident involved his cat scratching my face while we were kissing (Ben said Van Gogh had jealousy issues).

I nervously deliberated the situation. Ben eyed me with a small and innocent smile on his face. I didn't know what to say. I opened my mouth and let it hang for a second.

"What was that, Tenn?" He asked innocently.

"Okay," I murmured feebly.

Ben smiled and said, "Good. I'll get Christina to look into it."

I hesitated for a second. I hadn't really thought about money.

"I don't make as much as you," I muttered.

Ben looked at me, his expression earnest.

"Don't worry about it. I'll pay rent."

"No. No, that's not right," I said.

He grinned.

"Just focus on school. I can do it," he said.

I started to protest again but he gave me an annoyed look. I guessed it was settled.



Mary smiled a sad smile before muttering about having to leave for work. She worked at a record label office. She usually answered phones and occasionally went on a date with a musician she had met while working. Basically, she was cool. Her golden hair swayed back and forth as she sashayed out of the apartment.

I had nothing to do. Nothing at all. My first instinct told me to let my mind wander. Whenever I let that happen, I usually recalled Ben's face, his raspy voice and his colorful inked arms. The pain resonated within my chest and I stared blankly at the floor while I tortured myself in order to relive memories, touches and kisses.

I looked up around the silent space of the apartment and remembered when Ben and I had first moved in. It was completely foreign and crazy to me that it wasn't Ben's home anymore, that Mary called it home.


"Hey, hey, hey. I have an elevator now!" I called excitedly as I carried the last box into our new home.

Christina had found a place surprisingly quickly and it only took a month for everything to happen. I was giddy and danced around while I unfolded clothes into drawers and swished around. Ben was struggling with setting up the bed frame in the bedroom and I laughed.
His spindly fingers worked with the metal frames and his tattooed arms were bare because he wore a sleeveless black Ramones shirt. We worked all day, trying to set up the decently sized apartment with our furnishings. It looked odd. My feminine, vintage, and eclectic vibe clashed with Ben's sleek and modern perspective. But I liked it. It was confusing in the best way possible.

That night, after so much packing and unpacking, we ate on the wooden floor amidst all of the empty boxes. We eyed each other as if we couldn't believe we were in our very own place, as if the whole word had shut us out and it was only us.

I leaned into Ben's frame and he grinned.

"I love you," I murmured against his neck. He reached a lanky arm around my waist. His breath caused a shiver to run down my back. I reddened and felt sweat build on my forehead. Ben seemed to take my reaction in stride and kissed my lips.

We fell asleep on the floor that night.



I had wiped at the tears and exited the apartment. I couldn't be there anymore. I found myself hitting the pavement. I wore my sleeping clothes: a pair of flannel pants and an old tank. My hands sifted through my Prada bag for my subway pass and I tried to distance myself from my thoughts as I walked hastily to work.

This is my life. My life, I thought.He left. He's gone.

The thoughts that had kept me anchored to the planet eased my mind as I got off the subway and entered Birds.

"Fuck, Tenn! I said 'NO WORK TODAY!'" Lydia scolded as I burst through the door.

I stood there at the entrance for a second. Lydia's tense glare subsided as she saw my disheveled appearance and my wet eyes.

"I –I just can't be alone," I whispered.

The two or three customers watching were enraptured by our exchange watched me curiously. Richie took my hand and led me to the back.

"What size are you?" he asked. His usually glittery eyes were muted, and his face was etched with real worry.

"Six," I murmured, "Maybe an eight."

He pulled a pretty floral dress from a rack and said, "Change."

I gave him a grim yet thankful smile. I couldn't help but think that I had been fooling myself for the past three months. I wasn't better. And it wouldn't ever be better until I dealt with it.

I fixed my face and exchanged my skin boots for some heels in the back. Lydia seemed to take my presence there well. She smiled at me and said, "You hard worker, you. Couldn't fucking stay away, could ya, workaholic?"

I grinned feebly at her joke. I was embarrassed. Lydia and Richie had never seen me like that. I was always composed, I was normal. Now they knew I had a problem.

Richie seemed to take my silence as a sign and began his usual joking demeanor. I was thankful. I cursed myself mentally at how I let myself go. I remembered the terrible nights and days before. My cries and sobs, always there, and always fixed so easily.

We were closing up when I saw Paul entering the shop, the cold rush of air wafting in behind him. He wore a black leather jacket, tight blue jeans, a white V-neck and a black beanie. He looked nice and I felt my stomach well up with excitement.

Lydia looked at me.

"I called Paul, he's gonna take you home, okay?" she said.

I nodded, "No need to fuss, Lyds," I murmured in embarrassment.

Paul cupped his hand under my chin so I could look at him. His blue eyes seemed concerned. He said nothing at all and I felt good. His gaze was enough.

"Bye, Tennessee," Lydia said as I got my things and walked out with Paul. I waved goodbye and Richie and Lyds smiled. We walked down, down the subway steps and Paul was quiet.

"Are you sad?" he asked abruptly as we waited for the train to ride up to the platform. His words were heavy in the cold night air, despite their simplicity.

I looked at him for a long second. His face seemed earnest, his snowy white features were serious.

"Yes," I said, my voice soft and fragile.

He put an arm around my shoulder. He smelled faintly of coffee and his skin was soft and rough at the same time. I liked it. And that was enough. I leaned against him and that was enough.