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“Georgia, open up!”
I remained unmoved in bed, watching the wind chase the clouds outside the window.
This was probably the forth time this week alone that Margie had threatened to call firefighters to kick down the front door. Scott had left countless calls, messages and voicemails. I didn’t even know what day of the week it was.
I didn’t want to open doors or answer calls or hear voicemails or check a calendar or be anyone at the moment. I didn’t know how to feel. I wanted to be infuriated and at first, I was.
Yet when that wave of fury broke on the shore, I was left with that wet sand in a deeper tone of brown—the evidence that it was there, leaving its mark behind. John’s mark was the person I’d become, that confident, invincible person. I was invincible three showers ago. Now, I was just a messy pile on bed.
I dragged myself out to pee and by the time I was done, I was so knackered of Margie’s ceaseless knocks, I trudged to the door.
My voice was hoarse from being unused. “I’ll let you come in only if there’s no talking.”
“Yes! No talking!” Her excitement made her sound like a cheerleader.
The lock unloosened with a fight and before I could open the door completely, Margie barged in, carrying grocery bags.
She hurriedly walked to the kitchen, dropping the bags on the counter and immediately unpacked its contents. The counter soon became a junk fest: ice cream, soda, chocolate, sweets, frozen pizza, cookie dough. My stomach cried out in hunger at the sight of it all.
“I thought the situation called for some comfort food!” I lifted a corner of the mouth as an attempt to smile. In return, she reached out for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know you said no talking, but that was really just a lie to get me in.”
That was really just a lie to get me in. Those words sounded awfully familiar.
The knot I had been holding down all week emerged and Margie became a blur before my eyes. I threw my arms around her, fountains of pain pouring out of me. I wanted to stop, to quit making such a fool of myself.
“What happened?” She rested a hand on my head whilst the other affectionately moved in circular motions around my back.
And I told her it all through sobs. From the beach, to the wedding, to the exhibition, and every moment in between. I told her about how his middle name was lame; the photos I took of him and never took out of film; how he’d leave as quickly as he came; the lies he used to keep his distance.
By the time it was all said and done, I didn’t have the energy to stay out of bed. So Margie walked me back to my bedroom along with all of the crap she bought.
I tore open the packet of marshmallows, eating two at a time to occupy my mind through chewing. “How could someone do that to someone else? How could they pretend to care?”
Every time I played the tapes on my head, a new wave of tears threatened to strike. But I held my ground and continued to stuff my face to keep him out of my head so the hurt could stay at bay.
“I can’t barely believe it. Out of all things, I never imagined him screwing things up this way.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged and wrapped her hair around into a bun, shifting her body to find a more comfortable position in bed. “Matthew said he had a bad rep for sleeping around, drinking a lot, so much so it screwed some of their tours up—caused a lot of havoc or something.”
“Tours?”
“Yeah! I honestly thought you knew they weren’t some random band Matthew decided to pick just because he’s friends with the guitarist.”
Yeah, my logic was clearly thrown out the window since day one, I thought.
“I don’t know much else about him.” Margie ate another spoonful of strawberry ice cream whilst reaching for my laptop on the nightstand. I’d thought about doing what she was doing right now when John walked out the door, but I didn’t have it in me.
Not knowing was easier—safer even. I didn’t want to find out how he had written all about my insecurities and the unappealing facets of myself that I had shown him.
“Whatever you find, just don’t show it to me.” With a nod of understanding, she proceeded to focus on the screen. “I haven’t spoken to Scott in a while,” I confessed.
“Really?” she twisted her eyebrows, “I couldn’t tell from all the times he frantically called me, wondering what the hell was going on.” She couldn’t hold back the smile her sarcasm often brought her.
I picked up a pillow and threw it, aiming for her head, amidst a hearty laughter. When our chuckles died out, I said, “I don’t know how to tell him all of this. He’ll think I’m the stupidest person in the whole wide world!” I shoved my face on my pillow in anticipated embarrassment.
“Just tell him. He’s really happy with you and that won’t change just because of this entire ordeal. It’ll only get worse if you keep ignoring him. Don’t push him away.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I turned my head to face her, head still on the pillow, eyes heavy and mind tired of being an adult. Would things ever get any easier? I felt like I attracted complicated situations.
“But what about John? Are you going to push him away?”
“Me?” I asked, incredulous at her words, “Push him away? He pushed me away. He was the one who caused all of this.”
“As your best friend, I’m obligated to be honest with you at all times and to not be biased in this situation, John hasn’t only done bad. He’s done some good too. Exhibit A,” she directed a finger towards me.
“Oh, so my current state is good? I must’ve been miserable this whole time then,” I let out a puff of irritation.
“I get that you’re mad at him, but it is a fact that you learned something from this bad situation—to be more of yourself. See?” she mimicked my position, lying on her stomach, face flat on the pillow, “He did some good.”
I frowned, not understanding her sudden attitude. “Whose side are you on?”
She sighed, growing out of patience. “I’m always on your side! But John clearly means something to you for you to be this upset for so long.”
“Of course he did,” I whispered in hopes of not meaning each word, but I did.
“Do you really want him out of your life?”
I hugged the pillow and only my starry-eyed gaze was now visible. I shook my head ‘no’.
Margie shot up from the bed, “Okay, we’re making progress then!” She picked up her phone and started typing.
My head raised out of curiosity. “What are you doing?”
“Inviting the girls for a night out.”
“Whatever we do,” I moaned, “can it involve sweatpants?”
Her lips spread into a wicked smile. “No! It’ll involve drinks. Lots of it.”
I remained unmoved in bed, watching the wind chase the clouds outside the window.
This was probably the forth time this week alone that Margie had threatened to call firefighters to kick down the front door. Scott had left countless calls, messages and voicemails. I didn’t even know what day of the week it was.
I didn’t want to open doors or answer calls or hear voicemails or check a calendar or be anyone at the moment. I didn’t know how to feel. I wanted to be infuriated and at first, I was.
Yet when that wave of fury broke on the shore, I was left with that wet sand in a deeper tone of brown—the evidence that it was there, leaving its mark behind. John’s mark was the person I’d become, that confident, invincible person. I was invincible three showers ago. Now, I was just a messy pile on bed.
I dragged myself out to pee and by the time I was done, I was so knackered of Margie’s ceaseless knocks, I trudged to the door.
My voice was hoarse from being unused. “I’ll let you come in only if there’s no talking.”
“Yes! No talking!” Her excitement made her sound like a cheerleader.
The lock unloosened with a fight and before I could open the door completely, Margie barged in, carrying grocery bags.
She hurriedly walked to the kitchen, dropping the bags on the counter and immediately unpacked its contents. The counter soon became a junk fest: ice cream, soda, chocolate, sweets, frozen pizza, cookie dough. My stomach cried out in hunger at the sight of it all.
“I thought the situation called for some comfort food!” I lifted a corner of the mouth as an attempt to smile. In return, she reached out for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know you said no talking, but that was really just a lie to get me in.”
That was really just a lie to get me in. Those words sounded awfully familiar.
The knot I had been holding down all week emerged and Margie became a blur before my eyes. I threw my arms around her, fountains of pain pouring out of me. I wanted to stop, to quit making such a fool of myself.
“What happened?” She rested a hand on my head whilst the other affectionately moved in circular motions around my back.
And I told her it all through sobs. From the beach, to the wedding, to the exhibition, and every moment in between. I told her about how his middle name was lame; the photos I took of him and never took out of film; how he’d leave as quickly as he came; the lies he used to keep his distance.
By the time it was all said and done, I didn’t have the energy to stay out of bed. So Margie walked me back to my bedroom along with all of the crap she bought.
I tore open the packet of marshmallows, eating two at a time to occupy my mind through chewing. “How could someone do that to someone else? How could they pretend to care?”
Every time I played the tapes on my head, a new wave of tears threatened to strike. But I held my ground and continued to stuff my face to keep him out of my head so the hurt could stay at bay.
“I can’t barely believe it. Out of all things, I never imagined him screwing things up this way.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged and wrapped her hair around into a bun, shifting her body to find a more comfortable position in bed. “Matthew said he had a bad rep for sleeping around, drinking a lot, so much so it screwed some of their tours up—caused a lot of havoc or something.”
“Tours?”
“Yeah! I honestly thought you knew they weren’t some random band Matthew decided to pick just because he’s friends with the guitarist.”
Yeah, my logic was clearly thrown out the window since day one, I thought.
“I don’t know much else about him.” Margie ate another spoonful of strawberry ice cream whilst reaching for my laptop on the nightstand. I’d thought about doing what she was doing right now when John walked out the door, but I didn’t have it in me.
Not knowing was easier—safer even. I didn’t want to find out how he had written all about my insecurities and the unappealing facets of myself that I had shown him.
“Whatever you find, just don’t show it to me.” With a nod of understanding, she proceeded to focus on the screen. “I haven’t spoken to Scott in a while,” I confessed.
“Really?” she twisted her eyebrows, “I couldn’t tell from all the times he frantically called me, wondering what the hell was going on.” She couldn’t hold back the smile her sarcasm often brought her.
I picked up a pillow and threw it, aiming for her head, amidst a hearty laughter. When our chuckles died out, I said, “I don’t know how to tell him all of this. He’ll think I’m the stupidest person in the whole wide world!” I shoved my face on my pillow in anticipated embarrassment.
“Just tell him. He’s really happy with you and that won’t change just because of this entire ordeal. It’ll only get worse if you keep ignoring him. Don’t push him away.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I turned my head to face her, head still on the pillow, eyes heavy and mind tired of being an adult. Would things ever get any easier? I felt like I attracted complicated situations.
“But what about John? Are you going to push him away?”
“Me?” I asked, incredulous at her words, “Push him away? He pushed me away. He was the one who caused all of this.”
“As your best friend, I’m obligated to be honest with you at all times and to not be biased in this situation, John hasn’t only done bad. He’s done some good too. Exhibit A,” she directed a finger towards me.
“Oh, so my current state is good? I must’ve been miserable this whole time then,” I let out a puff of irritation.
“I get that you’re mad at him, but it is a fact that you learned something from this bad situation—to be more of yourself. See?” she mimicked my position, lying on her stomach, face flat on the pillow, “He did some good.”
I frowned, not understanding her sudden attitude. “Whose side are you on?”
She sighed, growing out of patience. “I’m always on your side! But John clearly means something to you for you to be this upset for so long.”
“Of course he did,” I whispered in hopes of not meaning each word, but I did.
“Do you really want him out of your life?”
I hugged the pillow and only my starry-eyed gaze was now visible. I shook my head ‘no’.
Margie shot up from the bed, “Okay, we’re making progress then!” She picked up her phone and started typing.
My head raised out of curiosity. “What are you doing?”
“Inviting the girls for a night out.”
“Whatever we do,” I moaned, “can it involve sweatpants?”
Her lips spread into a wicked smile. “No! It’ll involve drinks. Lots of it.”