24 Hours
Georgia (02:00 - 03:00)
The problem was that I'd already drunk all of the wine by the time he called. And I was already crying because there were no apples left and I was lonely.
But still I wiped my eyes and pulled myself together and answered my phone. Because that's just what you do when the phone rings. You answer it. Even if it is 2am and you're drunk and you just want to go to bed and sleep for six months.
The thing about Australia is that it's really far away. Well, it is to me, anyway. I don't know about you. But the time difference between James and I was around about ten hours. He was on his lunch break right now, and I was playing mind-games and hitting the booze just to keep myself awake so I could talk to my boyfriend.
"Hello," I sniffed, shakily placing my half-empty glass onto the coffee table.
"Hey, Gee," he replied softly, the line crackling slightly. "Are you okay?"
"No," I said. "No, I'm not okay. I'm lonely and I'm tired and I miss you and all the wine and apples are gone."
I heard him sigh and I wanted to scream in frustration or something because how dare he sigh at me? "Have you been drinking, Georgia?"
"Of course I have been drinking," I slurred, falling heavily against the back of the couch. "What else am I meant to do? How else am I meant to stay awake at this time, you bastard?" Perhaps the insult was a little unnecessary but I didn't even mean to say it, it just came out. It flowed well into the sentence, I thought.
"Gee, I really think we should talk when you're sober." Blah blah blah. You bastard.
"I've stayed up all night to talk to you, James," I snapped, glaring with intent at nothing in particular. "So don't you dare hang up."
He didn't hang up. He just sighed again. Which in many ways seemed worse. "Okay." That was it. That was all he had to say to me.
"I'm fucking falling apart here James," I told him, my voice much calmer now, much softer. "I know I said that we could do this and I love you lots but this is really hard." I was almost whispering now, my eyes brimming with tears again. I sniffed and wiped my sleeve over my face.
There was a noticeable silence, apart from the crackling which seemed to be getting louder and louder and filling up the empty space and taking over and swallowing us whole and my head was spinning. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths and I waited for James to say something. Anything.
"I know it's hard," he finally said. He sounded like he might be crying too. "And I know it's harder for you because you're there and I'm here. I know that, Gee." He was silent again but I thought maybe there was more that he wanted to say so I stayed quiet.
We were halfway through our separation, and it had been the longest six months of my life. The months ahead seemed to stretch on forever and into infinity. I was falling apart already. I was stuck in the same old house with the same old job, seeing the same old people and going to the same old places every day, while James was on the other side of the world doing this amazing exciting new job and making new friends and having fun.
When I first told him to take the job, I never would have guessed it would hurt this much. I never realised how much I'd grown to depend on James. It was scary. I never considered myself the type of woman who would rely so much on her boyfriend, but I barely even left the house any more. I had no social life to speak of. Every time I'd meet up with somebody, they'd ask how James was doing in this way that made me feel so small and pathetic. They would sort of tilt their head to one side and smile very faintly and maybe touch the top of my arm to let me know they sympathised. I hated it.
Another thing people say is, It'll go quickly. What does that even mean? That doesn't help. That doesn't make me feel any better. It doesn't even make sense. Time is just time. Context or no context, a minute is still 60 seconds, isn't it? And a year is still a year. And it doesn't go quickly at all. Whenever somebody said something like that to me, I would have to fight the urge to hit them.
So eventually I started avoiding those people. And then I started avoiding all people.
James sighed again, but this time it was different. It wasn't an exasperated sigh. It was a sad sigh. "I really miss you, Gee," he said quietly.
"I really miss you too," I whispered, letting a single tear roll down a single cheek and drop onto a single breast. I opened my mouth to speak but my breath caught in my throat and I couldn't. I really didn't want to have to say what I had to say. It's almost like my body wouldn't let the words escape.
I took another deep breath and shook my head slowly, the room spinning as I did so. "I'm not sure I can do this any more, James," I spoke softly, letting all of the air escape my lungs until I thought I might deflate and then maybe we wouldn't be having this problem. But it doesn't matter anyway because I'd said it and I couldn't take it back. I had to deal with the consequences. I had to wait for James to reply because that's just what you do.
"You don't mean that," he said after seven seconds. "You're drunk. You don't mean that."
Somewhere outside an alarm was going off. "Maybe I don't," I admitted. "And maybe it's just the wine talking but I don't want to live like this any more, James. I'm sick of it. If I'm with you I want to be with you and not 10,505 miles away. What's the point in having a boyfriend when you can't share a bed or watch a movie or have a take-out together and you have to stay up until ridiculous o' clock just to talk to him for twenty minutes?" I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
Five seconds this time. "But, Georgia, you told me to take this job. You're the one who said we could make it work."
"I know," I sighed. "But I don't think I can."
Nine seconds. "I don't want to be without you, Gee," he said, or at least I think that's what he said. He was speaking very quietly and the crackling was louder than ever so I had to fill in the gaps.
"You already are," I sniffed. "I'm going to go now, James. I need to get to sleep."
"But Georgia, I-"
"Goodnight, James."
I pressed the end call button and threw my phone to floor and cried until it was morning.
But still I wiped my eyes and pulled myself together and answered my phone. Because that's just what you do when the phone rings. You answer it. Even if it is 2am and you're drunk and you just want to go to bed and sleep for six months.
The thing about Australia is that it's really far away. Well, it is to me, anyway. I don't know about you. But the time difference between James and I was around about ten hours. He was on his lunch break right now, and I was playing mind-games and hitting the booze just to keep myself awake so I could talk to my boyfriend.
"Hello," I sniffed, shakily placing my half-empty glass onto the coffee table.
"Hey, Gee," he replied softly, the line crackling slightly. "Are you okay?"
"No," I said. "No, I'm not okay. I'm lonely and I'm tired and I miss you and all the wine and apples are gone."
I heard him sigh and I wanted to scream in frustration or something because how dare he sigh at me? "Have you been drinking, Georgia?"
"Of course I have been drinking," I slurred, falling heavily against the back of the couch. "What else am I meant to do? How else am I meant to stay awake at this time, you bastard?" Perhaps the insult was a little unnecessary but I didn't even mean to say it, it just came out. It flowed well into the sentence, I thought.
"Gee, I really think we should talk when you're sober." Blah blah blah. You bastard.
"I've stayed up all night to talk to you, James," I snapped, glaring with intent at nothing in particular. "So don't you dare hang up."
He didn't hang up. He just sighed again. Which in many ways seemed worse. "Okay." That was it. That was all he had to say to me.
"I'm fucking falling apart here James," I told him, my voice much calmer now, much softer. "I know I said that we could do this and I love you lots but this is really hard." I was almost whispering now, my eyes brimming with tears again. I sniffed and wiped my sleeve over my face.
There was a noticeable silence, apart from the crackling which seemed to be getting louder and louder and filling up the empty space and taking over and swallowing us whole and my head was spinning. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths and I waited for James to say something. Anything.
"I know it's hard," he finally said. He sounded like he might be crying too. "And I know it's harder for you because you're there and I'm here. I know that, Gee." He was silent again but I thought maybe there was more that he wanted to say so I stayed quiet.
We were halfway through our separation, and it had been the longest six months of my life. The months ahead seemed to stretch on forever and into infinity. I was falling apart already. I was stuck in the same old house with the same old job, seeing the same old people and going to the same old places every day, while James was on the other side of the world doing this amazing exciting new job and making new friends and having fun.
When I first told him to take the job, I never would have guessed it would hurt this much. I never realised how much I'd grown to depend on James. It was scary. I never considered myself the type of woman who would rely so much on her boyfriend, but I barely even left the house any more. I had no social life to speak of. Every time I'd meet up with somebody, they'd ask how James was doing in this way that made me feel so small and pathetic. They would sort of tilt their head to one side and smile very faintly and maybe touch the top of my arm to let me know they sympathised. I hated it.
Another thing people say is, It'll go quickly. What does that even mean? That doesn't help. That doesn't make me feel any better. It doesn't even make sense. Time is just time. Context or no context, a minute is still 60 seconds, isn't it? And a year is still a year. And it doesn't go quickly at all. Whenever somebody said something like that to me, I would have to fight the urge to hit them.
So eventually I started avoiding those people. And then I started avoiding all people.
James sighed again, but this time it was different. It wasn't an exasperated sigh. It was a sad sigh. "I really miss you, Gee," he said quietly.
"I really miss you too," I whispered, letting a single tear roll down a single cheek and drop onto a single breast. I opened my mouth to speak but my breath caught in my throat and I couldn't. I really didn't want to have to say what I had to say. It's almost like my body wouldn't let the words escape.
I took another deep breath and shook my head slowly, the room spinning as I did so. "I'm not sure I can do this any more, James," I spoke softly, letting all of the air escape my lungs until I thought I might deflate and then maybe we wouldn't be having this problem. But it doesn't matter anyway because I'd said it and I couldn't take it back. I had to deal with the consequences. I had to wait for James to reply because that's just what you do.
"You don't mean that," he said after seven seconds. "You're drunk. You don't mean that."
Somewhere outside an alarm was going off. "Maybe I don't," I admitted. "And maybe it's just the wine talking but I don't want to live like this any more, James. I'm sick of it. If I'm with you I want to be with you and not 10,505 miles away. What's the point in having a boyfriend when you can't share a bed or watch a movie or have a take-out together and you have to stay up until ridiculous o' clock just to talk to him for twenty minutes?" I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
Five seconds this time. "But, Georgia, you told me to take this job. You're the one who said we could make it work."
"I know," I sighed. "But I don't think I can."
Nine seconds. "I don't want to be without you, Gee," he said, or at least I think that's what he said. He was speaking very quietly and the crackling was louder than ever so I had to fill in the gaps.
"You already are," I sniffed. "I'm going to go now, James. I need to get to sleep."
"But Georgia, I-"
"Goodnight, James."
I pressed the end call button and threw my phone to floor and cried until it was morning.