Open my wounds,
Let them bleed.
I pray you’re partial to my shade of sorrow.
Day 379
No one would believe me if I told them that I knew I would fall in love with Naadir Gavin Singh the moment I laid my eyes on him.
I wouldn’t call it a déjà vu moment because those are so sporadic and majority of the time, we forget that feeling of running smack dab into one of the universe’s many secrets.
No, no. It was more calculated and couldn’t be mistaken for or mixed up with anything else. I couldn’t justify it, shrug it off in the moment, or insist it was anything other than my body attempting to protect itself by keeping my heart intact.
Love.
Something so universal and sought after. Didn’t the world know that the same thing stitching you up was the thing that ripped you to shreds to begin with?
I was learning it now.
I contemplate this while I look at my phone, willing it to vibrate with an incoming message from the man in question. I’m filled with disappointment when nothing happens. But I comfort myself in the acknowledgement that my disappointment was my own doing. Placing these expectations, he’d say.
Like it’d be too much to expect him to be considerate.
Because he’s been back in town over a week and I’ve only seen him twice.
One of those times I couldn’t really count.
I squeeze my eyes shut because I can still feel the weight of him on top of me. He’s almost as heavy as the guilt I feel at succumbing to my most basic needs.
I never knew you could feel so at odds with your emotions. Excitement and regret were rarely ever seen hand in hand.
I itch to type out the perfect message to him. But what’s the perfect way to beg someone to give you the attention you crave?
To love you the way they used to?
To be as good to you as you’ve tried to be to them?
One conversation fixes nothing.
Instead, I grab the same old notebook at the edge of my desk and a red pen. Red feels right. I release the poison.
How many times will I be reduced to this?
Writing the words I’m too afraid to say to you.
Loud words and deaf ears.
Only ever friends in their uselessness.
I slam the notebook shut and throw it across the room. If I went through my pockets and my purse and wallet, even through my phone, I’d find little stanzas filled with hurt and regret. If I searched further, I bet I could find the ones that were lighter and filled with hope.
These little love notes could chronicle our love; the hopeful beginning to the start of our demise.
But there’d be nothing about the most important piece to this immense and complicated puzzle. Because some things were just too massively indescribable to live anywhere other than inside of us.
Carlos stretches in the doorway and makes his way to me. I scratch behind his soft ears, looking into his warm brown eyes.
“Oh, my baby. Did I fuck it all up?”
He stares up at me like I could do no wrong.
When I pat his side and turn in my chair toward my bed, he whines and heads to the door.
“That’s my cue,” I mutter and grab the coat I flung on the bed earlier.
Carlos paces in a circle as I approach him with his leash.
A few minutes later, we’re outside and I’m wishing I’d worn more than a thin Henley under my coat. Carlos is peeing at every post as I shiver, taking his time.
It’s time to head back when I look up from Carlos and see a woman walking toward us. Her black wool coat stops just below her dark denim covered knees. She’s wearing these cute moccasin-style boots, fringe and fur lining included. But that’s not what makes me pause and really take her in. Those comfy shoes are supporting the weight of two; her pregnant belly bulging against the wool and cradled by one hand as she pauses for a moment with a wince.
I start to panic, less because she’s a pregnant woman in obvious pain and more because the right thing to do would be to make sure she’s okay. Which would include speaking and interacting with her.
I tighten my hold on Carlos who tries to pull me in another direction and take a deep breath.
Breathe, I have to tell myself as I take a few steps toward her. My hand stretches out, as though if it’s closer to her, my whole body won’t have to follow.
“Are . . . you okay?” I ask. The wind picks up a little and when she glances up, blond strands catch between her spread lips. She reaches up and pulls them away as she offers a small smile.
“I think so.” She offers a weak chuckle. “I think he’s just ready to get the heck out of there.” As she straightens, my eyes widen. When she notices, she shakes her head.
“Oh, no. Not right now!”
I drop my hand and nod my head.
“Well . . . that’s . . . good?”
“Honestly, I’d be just as happy if he fell out right now.” She rocks a little on her heels. “I miss my body being my own.”
It’s my turn to wince.
The complaints. I remember the complaints. And how they came back like a whip to hit me right in the heart.
She rubs her belly and straightens.
“I think I’m okay now. Thanks.”
I nod and look away. I want to place my hands over my heart to soothe the hurt, but Carlos has other plans, approaching the pregnant woman and sitting right at her feet. He looks up at her expectantly, his tail wagging. I start to pull on his leash.
She squats down, taking me by surprise.
“Hey, beautiful. What’s your name?” she asks as she rubs his ears.
I stammer.
“Oh—uh. His—he’s Carlos.”
She looks utterly enamored and so focused on him. I zoom in on the protrusion under her coat. She’s speaking but it’s all coming out muffled, like I’m under water or something.
Is this safe? Surely it isn’t.
“Maybe . . . should you stand?”
“Oh, it’s okay.” She nuzzles Carlos. “Maybe he’ll actually fall out,” she says with a laugh.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other.
“We should probably get going.”
Without thinking, I offer the woman my hand to help her stand. Her grip is tight as she rises.
“Thanks, again.” She holds onto my fingers for a few extra seconds and looks into my eyes.
I wonder what she sees.
I wonder what anyone sees.
“No problem,” I whisper as I stare at her for a moment, wondering what I see in her.
Utter contentment.
I blink and pull Carlos away to my apartment.
When I make it up to my room, I pull my gray curtains closed and lie in the dark, willing myself to sleep so I won’t turn into a poisonous cocktail of thoughts and emotions.