Love in Theory and Practice: Chapters 1-13

I wake up from yet another Valium induced sleep. I tried to sleep without Ville and without Valium and stared at my ceiling for nearly 7 hours. So before going to bed last night, I popped my favorite sleeping pill.

I throw off the covers and force my legs off the bed but the moment my toes touch the floor, I want to get back in bed. But I compel myself to get dressed and put on my running shoes.

After a quick breakfast, I head out the back way down to the beach. There is a paved path that runs along the sand, giving me the perfect place to work out. The ocean breeze is refreshing and slaps me out of my funk while the sun warms my skin and brightens my mood.

I’m still thinking of ways to apologize to Ville. I’m stubborn and conceited so apologizing is never easy for me; especially when I’m actually in the wrong. If I don’t feel like I’ve done anything, the apologies flow easily from my lips.

I run for what feels like and turns out to be 3 hours. When I return home, I jump into a cool shower. Just working my muscles the way I used to, almost daily, has made a huge improvement in my mood. I quickly grab lunch and on my way out to check the mail, a small envelope falls out of the seam of the front door.

My heart tries to beat out of my chest when I notice my name scrawled across the front in that all to familiar handwriting. I tuck it under my arm for now and grab the rest of the mail. Luckily I have a large mailbox because junk mail accumulates over several months of absence.

I kick off my flip-flops and tuck myself into my favorite armchair in the living room. I sort through the mail before even looking at Ville’s note again. When all the junk is thrown into a recycle pile, I pick up the envelope.

Leave it to Ville to slip a note by your front door in an oddly sized envelope. It’s almost like he plans his behavior to become something out of a cheesy romance novel. But then it hits me: he was here.

I can imagine the disappointed look on his face when/if he rang the bell and received no answer. Just the idea of letting him down causes the tears to form in the corner of my eyes. I can’t figure out why I’m still sitting in my living room and not running to him right now.

Pride.

I open the envelope and slip out the paper. “Oh, papers. He’s practically written a novel.” I mumble to myself while I unfold the mass and prepare myself to read it.

The basic tone of the letter is explanation. He tells me that he and Jyrki have always been friendly rivals in a way and that it makes it hard for Ville to accept my relationship with him. That I understand. I have one girl friend that I’m always in little competitions with and I can understand how pissed I’d be if she’d been with Ville first.

He then goes on to explain that he had originally felt some guilt over how quickly we’d been intimate. Not that he regrets it, just that it was abnormal behavior for him. I can understand that as well because I’m not usually someone to strike up a sexual relationship after only a few hours.

It then turns to how sorry he is for letting his anger get the best of him. He never meant to insinuate that I was a slut, or whatever. It had all been anger. He also explains that my reaction to an argument, calm and cold monotone is terrifying and hard to get used to. He’s used to being screamed at until his ears pop, literally.

It ends with how much he loves me and how much he misses having me with him on the road. Also that he spoke with Callie just to make sure I was alive and he wants me to call just so he knows I’m okay.

His unintelligible but recognizable signature is written the last line of the last page.

I hold the paper to my chest and look hopelessly around my house. Before I realize what I’m even doing, I have my phone in my hand and am turning it on. There are numerous messages, both voice and text. I delete them all, knowing they contain what is already here in the letter.

I hit the speed dial key “V” and listen to it ring.

“Elin?” he says eagerly when he answers my call after only a ring or two.

“Yes baby,” I reply.

“You’re okay?” he asks. I can hear the relief in his voice.

“Yes, I’m okay. I was running on the beach when you came by.” I explain.

“Ah, it seems like a nice day to be outside.” He says even though I know he doesn’t really care too much for being in the sun. I can tell he’s not sure what to say so he’s just trying to make nice conversation.

“I’m sorry, Ville.” I blurt out without even thinking. “I’d pushed Jyrki so far to the back of my mind that I didn’t even think about him until Callie brought it up. I’m sorry I never told you.”

“I know. And I’m sorry too. I’m just a jealous guy and I was angry that he’d even met you first.” He explains sadly.

“You want to hang out?” I ask, almost shyly. I crack a smile when I realize that I’m asking my husband if he’d like to hang out with me.

“Very much so. We’re just at the venue, hanging around.” He says. I can hear the other band members and crew in the background.

“Be ready, I’m coming to get you.” I say and hang up before he can reply.

I fly into my bathroom and begin fixing my hair and putting on makeup. My heart is beating rapidly in my chest and I feel like I could just fly. I can’t believe I even threatened to break up with, no wait, divorce Ville.

I change my clothes and throw a few key items into my purse. I stand in the garage for a moment debating between my two cars. Which one would be better for an apology date? I decide on the Aston Martin. Hell, it’s what I’d want to be picked up in.

We get lunch at Toi, wander around aimlessly on Venice Beach and the pier. We don’t mention our fight again; we’re both just happy to have the other person back.

“So I may have told Callie that we’re already married.” I say as we’re driving back to the venue.

“Oh?” he asks with a smirk.

“Yes, I got slightly intoxicated in San Francisco and may have let it slip.” I say. “I believe she said something about still having a wedding because she has to see me get married in some sense or she’ll just die.”

He laughs that wonderful deep chuckle and I feel at peace with the world again.

Ville’s mood is a million times better than it had been in San Fran. He’s happy to be up on stage, happy to he performing, happy to be singing songs about me. Callie dances with me on the side of the stage.

“So it looks like happily ever after is still a possibility?” she jokes during one of Ville’s mumbled monologues that crowds either love or hate.

“I don’t know so much about happily ever after in the Disney sense but happily for Ville and I, sure.” I say with a smile. I don’t realize it but I’ve zoned out and am just staring at him. He catches my eye and winks. I feel the blush in my cheeks.

“God, you guys are too cute.” Callie says with an exaggerated sigh.

“Where’s Bam these days? Aren’t you guys just too cute?” I ask, teasingly.

“Oh we’re cute alright but more in the ‘crash your party and drink too much’ kind of way. You and Ville are too cute in the ‘love letters and love songs’ kind of way. Much more romantic really.”

That night Ville and I sleep soundly in each other’s arms, without Valium.