Calm Like Home (26 page)

I fumble through the rest of my shift. I go through the motions. I do not smile. I do not laugh. I do not care at all. When it’s over I get into my car and I tip my head back and I see the two small imprints on the ceiling and am reminded it is really over. He left and it’s all because I pushed him too far.

Week two arrives and the full magnitude of Adam’s departure begins to sink in. I try to dig deep, to channel the old me, the me before Adam, but no matter how hard I try I can’t seem to connect with her. Who was that girl, so fine with being on her own? She was innocent; she was blind. She had never loved and never lost it all, had never been reduced to skin and bones after having swelled to so much more.

Annabelle routinely asks me to come over. I don’t feel like going, don’t feel like doing anything anymore, but it takes more effort to resist her so I give in. Like so many times before, we munch on pizza and sip on wine, a dark and heavy red. I take deep sips, letting it fill me. I don't have anything to say and she doesn't push me, just lets me sit here without being alone. I'm practically falling asleep on her couch before I head back to my own apartment, hoping I’ll eliminate the risk of getting home and having time to let my thoughts shift back to him.

It doesn’t matter.

They always do.

I spend Christmas day at my parents’ house. I sit on their couch and drink hot chocolate and force a smile as we open gifts. Inside I am crumbling. I am wasting away. As I’m buttoning on my coat to go, my mom appears at my elbow. She hugs me tight and it’s comforting, but it does little to soothe the emptiness I feel.

“I’ve seen the rollercoaster you’ve been on these last few months,” she says gently, a rare attempt to acknowledge how far from the middle I’ve been the last few times I’ve seen her. “Remember, whatever it is, this too will pass.”

I bite back the tears spilling from my eyes and suck in a ragged breath, nodding once then heading out the door. I know how far I’ve fallen, how fully this has wrecked me. I should be used to him being away by now, our extensive time apart serving as continual preparation for a day I never thought would come. But before there was always the hope and possibility he’d come back, some future date to count down to, now there never is. His absence simply stretches on and on.

When I get back to my apartment I open the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of wine with every intention of drowning my sorrows, but I catch sight of those damn hotdogs on the shelf. I grasp the package in my hand, remembering the exact look on Adam’s face when he told me the Nathan’s were essential. I squeeze the package, hating the memory yet powerless to stop it. I turn and heave them into my trashcan. I remove tub after tub of unopened Ben and Jerry’s from my freezer. I throw away the boxes of mac and cheese lining my cabinets. The candy goes in the trash as well. I can’t take the sight of it, can’t bear the thought of eating it alone. When I return from the trash dumpster I collapse against the wall by the door, knowing exactly what I threw away. The love of my life. My eternal happiness.

Now that it’s winter break, I only have work to occupy my thoughts. At least I’ve worked at Milano's long enough that I can get by on autopilot. I don't have to try. Simply going is effort enough. Each day I grit my teeth and don the uniform and force myself through the door. I avoid the parts of the restaurant that remind me of him the most. I trade side duties to avoid cleaning the soda machine. None of the kids at my tables get ice cream for dessert because I can’t stand going into the freezer. I roll my silverware on the to-go station to avoid those damn steel tables and the image of his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. What I lack in cheer I make up for in mindfulness. I anticipate my tables’ every need to offset the solemn delivery.

Between tables, I down cup after cup of coffee. I feel jittery, scattered, my thoughts fluttering from one topic to another. And this is exactly why I won’t stop drinking it. I don’t want to focus. I don’t want my mind to rest because every time it settles on him. His easy laugh. His carefree smile. The way he made my heart sing in my chest every moment we spent here together. Feeding my caffeine addiction at every break also allows me to avoid the forced dialogue that abounds whenever I’m standing around. Adam and I made sense to everyone in the restaurant, but me after Adam is unfamiliar to all of us. It doesn’t help that I’m a walking ghost. No one knows what to say to me.

Adding to my torture is the knowledge that he’s back for break now. Part of me has foolishly hoped he’d call or come by, say he wanted to try to make this work, that these last weeks apart have been agony for him too. But my phone hasn’t rang. I haven’t heard those two knocks on my door letting me know he wants this as badly as I do. I’ve come to realize his love was temporary, fleeting, never without strings attached, given briefly then yanked away.

Annabelle shows up at my apartment on New Year’s dressed to kill. She’s all sparkles and glitter and any other day it would be too much, but on this day it works.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” she asks gently.

I nod and head for the bathroom to get ready. I don’t want to look like a total slob next to Annabelle so I take my time, painting on a pretty face like I’m donning a mask for the night, covering up the real me if only temporarily. I can hear her in my closet, hangers sliding across the rod as she examines my clothes. She returns carrying a black satin dress with rhinestone embellishments, her eyebrows raised. I appraise the dress and decide it’s perfect for my mood while being fitting for the holiday. She always gets it right.

Finally we’re headed out the door. I go because even if I don’t care about anything else, I don’t want to be a shitty friend to Annabelle. I don’t want to let her down. Besides midnight will be torture no matter where I am. I might as well be out with her. We head to The Berg because it’s comfortable. I doubt I’ll ever set foot in Mercado again, too many bad memories, too many missed opportunities to fix this before I even knew it was broken.

Although it’s still early, the place is packed to the brim, filled with people wearing party hats and blowing paper horns.
Their happiness annoys me, grates on my nerves, but I bite back my harsh comments and silently follow Annabelle to the bar. Marcus is clearly swamped, but as we approach he sets two rum and cokes on the bar top.

”They’re doubles so you don’t have to fight through this madness as often,” he shouts over the commotion.

I take the first sip, feeling the sting at the back of my throat. Annabelle pushes her way through the crowded bar, making her way to the dance floor. I try to focus on the music, wanting nothing more than to let it take me away, but I can’t. My heart isn’t in it. My eyes rove over the crowd, scanning, searching, hoping. I don’t know why he’d be here and yet I can’t stop looking.

As the night stretches on, I turn to my drink, looking to drown my sadness. I don’t care if it’s a crutch, I’ll take anything I can to help bear the weight, to hold me up when I’ve fallen so far. I take another sip, willing the alcohol to get me through this initial crush, this gripping heartbreak. I let it flow over me, fill me up so I feel a little less empty, a little less desperate. It’s the only way I feel any warmth anymore. Even then it’s nothing like happiness, just enough to disguise the hurt and temporarily mute Adam’s memory.

Chapter 25

My New Year kicks off at an all time low. Whatever buoyancy
and passion and fight I once had about me has completely disappeared. I’m spiraling away, losing my identity, losing all of me. Everything Adam made me turns to dust. All the light he brought out in me is extinguished. I feel myself plummeting into perpetual darkness; there is no escaping it. It beckons me, pulls me in, wraps around my shoulders, my face, my hands, cloaking me in desolation. I don't try to push it away, don't try to resist its pull, falling further and further into its grasp. There is no reason, no need. Everything that mattered is no more.

I force myself through the motions, just barely. I show up for my shifts at work. I fake a smile that never quite reaches my eyes. It’s never the nine-tooth smile. It’s never real. I do just enough to get by, all the while feeling the inescapable dullness that my life has become without Adam in it.
I can see my old life flickering just out of reach but I can't seem to grasp it. I'm no longer interested in music or running or making jokes. I can’t be that girl again, don’t even care to try. My joy has been decimated; the light in my life is gone.

I’m on my way to work on Friday when I decide to stop by Java House to satiate my morning coffee yearnings and run into Marcus. He grins hello.

“Have time to stay and chat before you go to work?”

I nod and pull out an empty chair at one of the tables. I pretend to listen. I watch his lips. I feign interest. His voice reverberates in my ears, a loud echo, a blurred version in which the words all run together into a monotonous cacophony. I rub my forehead. What is he saying?
Focus, Lex.
I concentrate on the movements his mouth makes as his lips form words, watch his eyes flash animatedly as he gets to a part of the story he finds interesting.
What had Adam said?
He can’t think around me? I shake my head, still unsure what that means. Marcus is eyeing me expectantly, so I shift my gaze to my coffee cup, stirring absently.

I can see the questions forming in his eyes, can tell he sees the change in me. It’s in the way his gaze lingers on my face and the concern that creeps into his voice, but I never talked to him about Adam when we were together and there’s no way I’m bringing him up him now. Luckily he’s kind enough not to ask. I’m thankful I don't have to get into it with him, that I can keep him separate from this part of me, the part that is broken, lost, completely spent.

After tiptoeing around it, sticking to benign topics, he finally says, “I’m going to take a wild guess here and say you could probably use something a little stronger than coffee.”

I let out a breath. It’s not really a laugh, but it’s as close as I come these days.

“I’m working tonight. Want to come by?”

I nod. “I’ll see you later Marcus.”

After my shift at Milano’s I go home. I make an effort. I dress the way I want to feel, hoping it will somehow lift the cloak of sadness that has shrouded my entire being the last month and a half. I hate that I’m counting up from seeing Adam now instead of counting down. I make my way to The Berg with every intention of pretending to be someone I’m not, someone I used to be. I settle onto a stool at the end of the bar and text Annabelle to let her know I’m here if she wants to come.

Be there in ten.

Marcus mixes me a drink. I don’t know what it is, but it’s sweet and it’s strong. I feel it warm my chest with every sip. I’m well into my second when Annabelle pulls the stool out next to me. She regales me with stories about her latest conquest, Parker. Her break from boys was obviously short-lived. I nod along as she tells me about his perfect body and his athletic prowess and how he makes her toes curl, trying desperately not to think about another dark-haired boy who fits that description. I welcome the haze of the alcohol, how it softens the sharp edges, how it dulls the pang of missing Adam ever so slightly. I’m not sloppy, just down, and at the end of the night Annabelle bundles me into her passenger seat and takes me back to her apartment. She makes me sleep in her bed because she knows the couch holds so many aching memories for me. I’m grateful she’s such a good friend. I’m grateful not to be completely on my own.

This is how I pass the time. I take it one day at a time, doing whatever it takes to get by and I never once call him no matter how badly I miss him, no matter how drunk I get. It's not that I don't think about it. I think about it all the time. Sometimes it feels like the only thing I think about. I’d love nothing more than to call him up and pour my heart out, to let the words spill out of me, to tell him I love him, that I’ve thought of nothing else since he walked out my door, that I’ve missed him with everything I have. But no matter how bad the yearning gets, I always tuck it away, hiding it in dark corners. I owe him that much. He said he needed space and that much I can give him. If not calling is the one way I can stay true to him, the one way to show how much I care, then I will live this torture. I will swallow my agony. I won't let him know what it's doing to me, even if it’s killing me bit-by-bit, piece-by-piece all the while.

When the urge becomes maddening, when I feel myself slipping and I’m missing him like crazy, when I can hardly contain the words threatening to come pouring out of me, I call Marcus instead. I meet him for coffee and I pretend. I pretend he is light. I pretend he makes me laugh. I pretend he is the one person who matters, the one I drove away.

I don't know when the “getting over” part comes, because every day that passes is worse than the day before, when it seems like it should be the other way around. There is no closure. There is no respite. All that’s left is despondence. I wonder if this is easy for him. I wonder if I ever cross his mind. I wonder if he regrets his decision, if he’s thought about calling me. But mostly I just wonder if he's ever coming back.

On Wednesday evening Annabelle shows up unexpectedly at my apartment and I register she’s wearing workout gear.

“Get your stuff.”

I stare at her blankly.

“You’re coming to yoga with me. You need some positive energy in your life.”

I don’t have it in me to protest so I change clothes and follow her out to her car. When we get there, I try to focus on the instructor. Her voice is soothing as we go through the poses.

“Connect with your breath. Breathe in love and breathe out whatever is troubling you. Be here, in this room, now. Let everything else fall away. There is no past, there is no future, only now. Take every thought that comes into your head and let it go. Are you feeling stressed, sad, overwhelmed? Let it go.”