“You okay, Charlie?” Eric asked.
“Yeah. I think I need another Daisy Chain.”
He laughed, pulling me over to the bar. “Was that Lex you were texting?”
“No, I wasn’t texting. I read the text he sent me and listened to his voicemail. The first time I’ve had the courage to all week.”
“C’mon Charlie, even I was wrong for judging. Hear him out at least. You know you wanna get back to tapping his hot ass again.”
“If only it were that easy.”
“What’s going on, ladies...?” Kate rested her head on Eric’s shoulder, slurring her words.
“Charlie just got a text and message from Le—” The whistle blew loudly in our ears. We all cringed. Apparently it was conga time, but the gay version. It was our cue to leave. Eric joined the gay train and waved goodbye. Kate and I stumbled our way home to pass out as soon as we walked through the door of the hotel suite.
…
I moved my tongue around my mouth, it tasted bitter and cotton-like. As I swallowed, I felt the nausea wash over me. Running for the bathroom, tripping over Kate lying on the floor, I barely made it to the toilet before the ramifications of last night’s shots took place. I sat there minutes on end unable to peel myself off the cold tiles. I was dying, there was no other explanation.
“Charlie, are you oka…” Kate pushed me aside taking my spot. Oh fuck no, I couldn’t watch her puke as well. I ran out of the bathroom pacing up and down the living area thankful that the trashcan stood by the small kitchenette and sink. That will be the last time I ever set foot into a gay club...EVER.
Hours later we managed to shower and get dressed. I said goodbye to Kate, thanking her for making me forget and also letting me stay with her. We agreed to meet up for coffee tomorrow before she was due to fly back home.
As I walked back into my apartment, the familiarity of it all overwhelmed me. I was exhausted, no doubt from the lack of sleep this week, the clubbing and extra work I took on to distract myself. I dozed off to be awoken at twilight by the sound of my cell ringing. It was Julian.
“Hey you,” I answered, my voice hoarse.
“Hey, you okay? You don’t sound well.”
“Just coming down with something, I think.” My body ached all over as I straightened myself up.
“I was going to ask you if you were free for dinner but never mind, rest up.”
“No, it’s okay, Julian. We need to talk anyway.”
“Yes, we do need to talk. So, how about I pick you up around seven?”
“Um, how about I meet you there? Just text me the details.”
I hung up my cell, guilty for avoiding having him here. I remembered Lex’s voicemail from last night. I remembered how I felt when I read his words, when I heard his voice. I plopped myself on the couch and scrolled through my inbox. I found the deleted items folder and recovered the emails he sent me. He had apologized, over and over again. He promised me nothing ever happened or ever would happen. But it wasn’t those emails that made me look at him in a different light. It was the ones he sent me quoting one my favorite poets. I studied Lord Byron in senior year; the memory of the words as I spoke them to him, resting against his chest, in our safe haven that was our cliff top back home.
A tear fell upon my screen as the words lingered. How does one stop what the heart wants? It was impossible to not see the pain I was inflicting on him and it made my heart hurt, a part of it crying for the sorrow he was feeling. But this was about my pain; how was I to rise above it? How was I able to place my trust in him and let all the fears wash away? Could I hand my heart over to him? It thinks it belongs there but once upon a time it was asked to leave, and when it left it took me along with it to a very dark place. Had he changed...had his heart changed too? Would he see me and understand my fears, understand how fresh this all was? Or would he push me into the dark by questioning my insecurities, belittle me for my ability to run?
I could either hand my heart over or place it in a panic room.
I walked to my vanity and opened the little wooden box. Inside sat the engagement ring Julian gave me and the wedding band that Lex placed on my finger. Two rings, two different people. I picked up the diamond ring and slid it on my finger.
I didn’t know what I was doing, all I knew was that tonight I needed to smile and if there was one person that could make that happen, it was Julian.
June 2005
I tried his cell again, damn voicemail. It was the morning after I saw him at ‘our’ place, and during the night I had tried several times to call him. Maybe he was tied up with work. I hoped, because the alternative was unbearable.