Silver Springs

Gunnar woke up to find Mamie getting dressed. He watched her walk across the room in all of her naked glory, dig around in his drawers until she found her favorite tee shirt of his (a very soft white fabric with the image of David Bowie plastered across it), and put it on with a solemn look on her face. Gunnar stared at her curiously.

“Coffee?” he asked. He wanted to hold on to her, but the morning light caused a break.

“Sure,” she sighed. This was the problem with her. She never knew what she wanted. She said she loved him, cared for him, and then she got a real good look at him and changed her mind. It tore both of them apart. Just make a fucking choice, he had told her many times. And she did choose, and then she changed her mind.

Gunnar got up from bed and pulled some boxers on. He was already pissed off. She was a floundering piece of work.

She moved with him into the kitchen and sat down on a stool at the breakfast bar. “Nice place you got here,” Mamie murmured. She looked around and saw the shabby apartment. It was shabby in a nice way. There was exposed brick and the beige walls were stained with age.

“Thanks,” Gunnar said as he took out the kettle, “Lorelei got it for me before she and Billie broke up. Her uncle is the manager of the building.”

Mamie smiled absently. She didn’t want to talk about Lori or Billie in any manner. But before she could meander her way out of it, Gunnar said, “It’s crazy how we all broke up at the same time.”

“Mm,” Mamie commented minimally.

Gunnar got out two mugs and waited for the kettle to sing. “Billie was messed up after that,” he continued, “We went on like a week long bender and then just decided to quit the drinking.”

He looked up at Mamie, “I’m gonna quit the bar too. It’s a fucking stupid thing to work there and I know it.”

Mamie glared at him, “Yeah, you know it is. Quit.”

Gunnar laughed at her outraged face. “What about you? What about school, huh?”

“It’s gonna start. I mean, I hope to get out of Mom and John’s house as soon as possible.”

“I’m sorry about that, you know.”

Mamie stopped. “Sorry about what?”

“I mean that you and I met during your winter break and we just got together and you never went back. It was selfish of me. I should have pushed you to get back down there.”

Mamie was stunted because she had never heard him say anything about her not returning to school. It had been after a night they’d spent together. She was curled up against his chest and whispered on his skin that she had to return to school in two days. He shook his head.

“I just won’t go back,” she had said lithely, expectantly.

Gunnar had grinned and pulled her in. “Don’t go back,” he returned, “Stay here with me. Stay here,” he had told her. And she did.

God, they had been so fucking dumb.

But that’s what love will do. Your priorities and goals are all blurry because this one person loves you for who you are at that moment. Why change that moment? Why grow and learn and move when someone loves you just as you are?

“It’s not your fault. We were stupid,” Mamie said.

Gunnar nodded and turned to retrieve the hot water from the stove. She watched him stir in the instant coffee and pour in the 2% milk. She grabbed her favorite pink mug from his hands and stared at him as he drank out of his Batman mug.

“We should not have done this. We’re regressing. We’re shrinking,” she said aloud.

“Don’t fucking start this shit again,” Gunnar said as he angrily set his drink down on the counter. Some of it splashed on the tile.

“We promised we wouldn’t get back together,” she was now panicking, “And look at us. I’m back in your Bowie shirt and have my mug in my hands and I’m not in school and you’re at the bar. We’re just in different rooms, a couple months later.”

“You know what, Mamie?” Gunnar said, “You’re fucking crazy. You are. You know why? Because you always have to worry about whatever it is and hurt everyone because you’re too fucking scared to deal. Alright?”

Mamie lashed out too, “Fuck you! Fuck you! Just because I can’t erase everything I’m worried about by getting hammered-“

Gunnar stopped her, “I’m not doing that anymore. So stop it.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and then more patiently said, “You’re right. I worry and I get upset and I know that sometimes it just ends up hurting you. But you have faults too. You’re so angry sometimes. And you don’t realize what you say. You can’t be mad at me because I don’t do what you want. That’s not how this works.”

He listened and then took a deep breath. “You’re right too. We’re right about each other. Now can we please just drink our coffee? Can we just watch lame morning TV and then take a shower like we did?”

Mamie laughed and nodded. He came around and hugged her. “I’m sorry I’m a mean old man.”

“I’m sorry I’m a worry wart.”

I laughed at their blindness.