Story Twelve

I woke, sitting in the bathtub and staring at my wrists, in disbelief that I did it wrong again. No big gushes as I hoped, only surface wounds that would heal, like they always do. I was tired and just wanted to sleep forever, but I slowly slipped out of the tub and walked to the bedroom. I had set a whole outfit of his clothes on the bed on the side he slept after I got the phone call. Someone had rear-ended him and when he left the car to check the damage another person hydroplaned and ran right into him. As soon as my boss heard I was given two weeks paid leave as long as I was able to fax or email all my work.

The first few days the only time I left the bed were when people came over and had cooked for me. People don't seem to understand food is the last thing people grieving want but after a few obligatory bites I would find an excuse to make them leave, then throw out the food and pile the dish in the sink before returning to bed.

The next few days, I threw myself into work items and filled out forms which I sent back through the USPS. The days felt long because the projects took three hours at most.

I sat passively watching TV one day and this one woman was talking about how she feared for her daughter because the twenty-something cut herself.
My attention turned to my wrist and slowly traced a vein until my finger lay inside my arm. I looked at the coffee table and the only sharp object was the fingernail clippers which aren't very sharp so I got up and walked around, into the kitchen. I stood there, listless and looked around. The kitchen knives sat in one corner not being used. I silently walked over to them and picked one out. I slowly slid the metal across my wrist, feeling the cold steel against my skin.

I couldn't do it and put the knife back, before walking back to the couch and sitting down.

A day later, I found myself standing there and the knife again in my hand. I closed my eyes and inhaled, before slowly digging the knife into my wrist. A small sting resulted from making contact, which made me bite my lip and wince.

A second later the pain was gone and I lifted the knife. A small trickle of blood was in its place.

I stood there and just watched it drip, until it stopped and gelled.

Fast forward to now, after a few more tries, I lied down on top of his clothes, curled into a fetal position, wrapping the arms of his shirt around me. I had a few days left before I had to return to work and back to reality. I also had run out of coffee, which was the only thing I've been allowing to pass my lips, so I had to go to the store.

I walked into the nearby VONS to grab another can of coffee, and stood in the aisle, before reaching for the canister. My hand grabbed it, but before I could, another hand reached for it and my hand on top of theirs.

We both turned and looked at each other. Someone equally miserable was staring back, but I wasn't looking into a mirror.

Before we could say anything he started crying and I looked and his hand on the can wore a wedding band.

We stood there, unmoving for a long time. We were the only people in the aisle, and I found myself open my mouth and say the words, "We should both kill ourselves."

He stopped crying suddenly and nodded.

"I haven't been able to do it myself, so I want someone else to do it," I continued.

He wiped his face, before finally saying, "I own a gun. Is that what you want?"

There was a long exhale, before I said, "Yes."

We met a few hours later. Branches shaded and secluded us at all points. He had came to this place before. His wife left him for their son's teacher and his first reaction was to leave the house and walk aimlessly around the neighborhood.

We aimed the two Smith and Wessons. He told me one belonged to his wife, his former wife as she had recently gotten remarried to the teacher, but that was one of the things she left behind. Our hands shook but we stood our ground.

"Ready?", he said.

I slightly hesitated, then said, "Yes."

We both fired.

Silence followed by black.

Story Eleven

He exhaled, took a sip of his ale, before saying,"Why is it that whenever you become comfortable with being alone, someone comes along to mess that up?"
I couldn't answer that and let him talk non-stop in several directions of thought.
They hadn't been talking at this point when he randomly mentioned her, wondering aloud if she was seeing anyone.
I quickly mumbled, "Well, I still talk to her. I could ask for you."
He didn't seem surprised at this, not giving me the satisfaction of at least pretending that I knew something he didn't.
In actuality, I hadn't talked to her in some time and was curious myself since we had hooked up that one time and have been itching to try it again. It was up to me to find her even though he had no idea I wanted to also see her for my own selfish reasons.

I did seek her out a few days later and expected silence, when we met up.
We hugged hello but, not long after, she seemed more skeptical than anything and answered with long breathy pauses punctuating each word.
After a while, she just stopped, looked at me point blank and asked, "What do you actually want from me?"
The conversation had been played in my head several times and I had every word that attempted to make its way out of my mouth rehearsed beforehand, but what were fully formed thoughts came out in monosyllabic half-sentences.
I wanted to talk to her about so many things, but only brought up the person we had in common.
Again, the reaction I expected didn't happen. A slight smile came over her face before she tried to hide it and then asked about him, when I wanted swear words and her face to pucker.
While we talked, I knew they would end up back together, which made me bite my tongue.

A few weeks passed and I had easily convinced her to go to the bar, since she didn't really go anywhere and I had guilted her into spending time with me. I knew he would be there. If he wasn't home in front of the tv wearing a t-shirt and sweats, or at work, this is where he was always found. As always, he sat in the corner, with a beer, staring at the table, his hands folded in front of him.
We walked in and he looked at me, then her, then back at me again, somewhat confused.
We sat down and he immediately sat back and crossed his arms, not really looking at either of us.

We sat there a while, but after she and I were mainly talking, and he was mostly quiet and looking uncomfortable, everyone was finally loosened up after a few rounds when he suggested they shoot some pool.

We forgot that she always made us look pathetic when it came to pool, so after him and I took unsuccessful turns, she chalked her cue and bent over the table and quickly shot the striped fifteen into the corner pocket. I was standing behind her, when I spied him looking at her. A look of momentary desire shined in his eye before he quickly tapped his stick against the ground when she moved around to quickly sink another ball.

He picked up his drink and found himself staring at the bottom of his mug, when he turned to me and said, "I think it's your turn, chief."
"Morgan, another drink?", I asked.
She handed me her glass, before aiming her stick and sinking another ball into another pocket.
I went and got the next round.

While waiting for the bartender to refill our glasses, I leaned against the bar and watched them.
He slowly moved closer to her as she was aiming to sink yet another ball and I saw him gently touch her arm.
She stopped and slowly turned to him.
They were looking at each other for a long time, not moving, before I saw his lips move.
A smile slowly spread over her face before she turned back and shot the ball into the side pocket, before fully turning back.
He slowly moved closer to her and I saw him slowly brush a strand of hair from across her forehead.
That did me in. I stood there and my heart sank.
They didn't kiss, but just turned to the pool table and talked.
I stood there and watched, until the bartender finished refilling our drinks and handed them back, then walked back over to them.
I wasn't there long when I made some quick excuse about dog sitting and they both wished me a good night before all the words left my mouth.

I walked home and, with each step, I knew he was going home with her or her going home with him that night.

I didn't sleep at all that night and lied on the couch, watching old sitcoms on TVLand.

It was about 6am and already time to get up for work, when my cell started ringing next to me and I looked at who called. It was him. I let the voicemail get it.

I didn't want to hear what he said, but while waiting at the trolley, I listened to what he said, in case it was important. They did go home together, but were up all night talking and they got back together and he was thanking me. This was all said with him on the verge of tears. I deleted the voicemail and wanted to punch him in the face.

A few nights later, she called me and invited me out to have coffee and talk. I was surprised since she rarely ventures outside of work or her apartment, unless it's my suggestion. Also, I figured she and him were making up for all the sex they didn't have with each other, and didn't have time for me anymore.

We sat outside and she wore this scruffy red sweater that she hand knitted herself. It was night and there were other people around her.
I was eager to tell her, but then she said,"Jasper proposed to me last night and I said yes."
My mouth dropped open for a second, then, "But, you two just got back together."
"Oh. I know. But, who are we kidding?"
I wanted to say, "Yourselves," but nodded, then set my coffee down and surprised the both of us when I suddenly stood up and then leaned over and kissed her on the mouth.
She didn't return it and patiently waited until I broke away.
She was staring at me when I sat back down.
"I love you."
She went really quiet and looked at her coffee, then back at me.
Neither one of us said anything for a really long time and awkwardly finished our coffees in silence.
After I took the final sip, I got up and tossed out the paper cup when I looked at her.
She was eyeing her watch, looking extremely bored.
I bit my lip and wanted to say something, but decided not to, before turning away and walking off.
She didn't stop me.

I sat in the car for a while, staring at the sky. My cell started vibrating and I looked at it. It was Jasper.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"Where are you? I'm standing outside your apartment."
"I just had coffee with Morgan. I'm in my car right now."
"She told you already, didn't she?"
"Yeah."
"Damn. I wanted to tell you before she did."
"Too late."
"Yeah, well, how are you taking it?"
"Taking it?"
"Well, yeah, I know you liked her, too."
A long pause, before I sighed and said, "Was I that transparent?"
"Yeah, you were. Plus, she told me you two slept together this one time, which I wasn't too happy about when I found out, but that happened a long time ago."
Another pause.
"I did a bad thing. I told her."
"Told her what?"
"That I loved her."
"You what?"
"I said--"
"I know what I heard, you son of a bitch! I can't marry a woman my best friend is also in love with!"
For the next five minutes, he just shouted random expletives into the phone, before saying, "I'm going to kill you when you get home, you fucking jackass!" and hung up right after he said that.
I started the car and drove home, expecting to get my ass kicked.

He was standing in the hallway, leaning against the door, when I walked up to him.
He had his arms crossed but he didn't look angry. He actually had this odd smirk across his face.
I went to unlock the door when he stopped me and we looked at each other.
"How did she respond?"
"Silence. Complete silence."
He nodded.
I unlocked the door and we walked in.
I had my back to him when he patted my shoulder, then said, "You're going to be okay."
I stopped and exhaled.
"I hope so."

I thought they would get married and have her turn into some sort of baby machine, but they broke up for good eight months later. They realised they made better friends than a couple of old married folks.

The three of us hung out quite a bit, before and after, and I don't know how I ended up alone with her one night. I have no idea why she had convinced us to watch this really sappy film. I'm not even going to admit the movie, otherwise my manhood would be questioned. It was towards the first third when he got up and went to his bedroom to go play video games, because the film bored him. Towards the end, she must have been immune while I started crying. She looked over at me and then moved closer and then just started patting my shoulder.
"This doesn't leave the room," I said.
"Just as long as I can call you a pussy anytime I want."
"Only if we're the only two people in the room."
"Okay, deal."
I looked at her and then leaned over and was about to kiss her cheek, to thank her, when she was about to say something else when she moved and was facing me.
It wasn't intentional as my lips landed on hers.
Both of us started with eyes wide open, looking at each other, but slowly our eyes closed.
It continued for a while, but didn't go any farther.

After the movie was over, she was leaning on me and we talked for a while, before we got up and I walked her to her car and hugged her, before she got in and left.

I stood outside the apartment for a while and a smile slowly came over my face, but I decided to try again.

I finally had my chance one day, but as I was about to walk up to her, this blonde guy came out of nowhere and ran headfirst into her.

She disappeared from our lives again after that.

Jasper and I were sitting in the bar one night, drinking, when he said,"I have nothing awful to say about what happened, and it didn't end badly. It just ended. I do wonder what has happened to her. Do you still talk with her?"
I shook my head.
We both went quiet than started talking about some tv show we had both watched the other night.