I can’t even start at the beginning because the beginning is still blurry. I guess I will start where my brains been actively wandering to. This is the night that I spent on the couch with S. I had been through hell and back with C. I was worn down physically and bent all out of sorts emotionally. I was a wreck and for the first time in a while I felt calm. There was no feeling in the world to match the comfort I felt with his arm around me. When I woke up with my head buried in his chest I didn’t feel awkward or nervous. I was happy there, for some reason it felt more natural than anything had in a while. I wasn’t concerned about feeling wanted, I wanted to feel safe, and I did. I couldn’t even hide my ambivalence to C when he confronted us. I didn’t want to deny it but I did. The safety I was feeling faded steadily as I saw the anger light up his eyes. I stood there in that little room just wishing to turn time back. I remember thinking I didn’t want this, and I wished he’d stop claiming me as his. C knew he lost me long before that. That’s why he fought so hard to keep S out of the picture because he knew there was an opening and maybe we had already crossed into it. The only solace that I had in that moment was that S was right behind me. However, I knew from previous experience that C wouldn’t necessarily hold back because of company, but I didn’t think S would let it get that far. I was right. He somehow managed to say things in a way that quelled the anger, but as we all backed out of that room the look I was given made me aware I was in for it. I didn’t even care. It was an all out battle of the wills for me to help S and keep him around, and for him to push him completely out. Then I became determined. I was terrified of the outcome but pleasantly anxious all at once. Every chance I had to reach out, I took it. I found myself relishing the moments C would crash, and it was blissful silence. I would make as many holes as I could to have S there. It wasn’t for any sort of pleasure I hoped to gain but to feel the safety, I literally craved it. And then there were the explosions. C would rile up and once again we were at odds. I struggled to find a leg to stand on when it came down to it. What was I supposed to say? I couldn’t say the truth, or at least I thought. I felt at the moment there was too much at stake for everyone involved. So, I took rage as it came. One night we argued back and forth, raising our cases to each other. I was sitting on the bed, an arrowhead rolling in my fingers. C looked at it, calculating, finally he asked me where I got that.
“S gave it to me.”
“Of course he did.” he snatched it from my hands and threw it at the wall.
I tried to jump up to retrieve it but was met with a shove to my chest with enough force I ended up flat. Before I knew it C was scrambling on top of me, my hands held by his, and one knee on my stomach. I saw the change flicker across his eyes as I clenched my jaw.
“You are MY wife, and this bullshit with S needs to fucking stop. If you want to whore around, you’re not gonna like it. Fucking stupid.” We weren’t married, he was just possessive.
I said nothing, wincing as he pushed force down on me to push himself up. I sat in silence for a few minutes before I found my voice. I knew I was going to pay for the words I was about to speak.
“I am allowed to have friends. I can talk to people, you’re not my boss.”
“And what exactly do you plan to do without me? You wont talk to him, okay? You have no reason to, I don’t want him over here. Got it? Don’t let him in.”
“And so what? I just stay here by myself? While you go out and do whatever and I just sit here alone and wait?”
“S isn’t going to be here. That’s all you need to do. What, you need dick that badly?”
“I’m not fucking him!” I screamed.
It was almost instantaneous. The impact stung, and I felt the bruising welling up already on my side. My face burned from the skin on skin as well.
“Man, shut the fuck up! Now T and I are going to get the shit, if S is here when I get back there’s gonna be problems.”
I nodded, biting my lip, tears welling up behind my eyes. I hated him. I hated him more than I’d ever hated anything, yet he wouldn’t go away. He had been gone all of ten minutes before there was a knock on the door. I looked at the cameras outside and my heart sank and flew all at once. It was S. He stood smaller that night, for some reason. He looked weighed down by something. I finished my second set of makeup before I opened the door.
“Hey.” His voice was deep, it rumbled in a middle bass tone. It made me smile but something was wrong.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He didnt say anything, just walked over to the bed and collapsed. I wanted so badly to lay next to him, but I resumed my position on the edge. I had left the door open just in case C came back sooner than I thought.
“Maici,” he said. “Thank you for being here for me, for being my friend. I might go to jail tomorrow but I wanted you to know I appreciate that. I really do. You’re a good person.”
“Hey, of course. Thank you, too.” I chuckled but my heart was cracking the walls I had put up. Friends. You’re my safety, you’re more special than my friend I’ll tell you that much.
He laid there for a few more minutes before exhaling. “I got a visit, I should go. But I’ll come back.”
Yes. Please. “Yeah, sure. Hey, just, uh, text C and let him know you’re coming. That way there won’t be any issues.”
He lit his cigarette with a half smile, “Sure, yeah.”
As I watched him walk down the alley and away from me I wanted to tell him everything but I wouldn’t. I closed the door and sat anxiously on the couch, counting the minutes. It was less time than I expected before he was back at the door, phone to his ear. He was defeated.
Its a sight to see a 6’4 man seem to crumble in front of you. I wanted nothing more than to try and put him back together but instead I sat and listened. Every word making me want to comfort him the same way he did for me. See, here’s the complication to our story. S is married, his wife at the time was incarcerated. I could hear the screeching from the other end, testing him. Every word tore into him a little bit more. His head hung in his hands, fingers running through his hair in frustration. It seemed like hours before it ended.
“You dont deserve that.” I managed to say.
“Yeah.”
“No, really. I know how that feels. You’re a good person. You don’t deserve it.”
He didnt say anything, just looked up at me with that little half smile. God, I wanted to kiss him. Restraint. We sat together in silence, I was hoping my thoughts were crossing some sort of barrier to him. Finally, upon composure I turned on my music. My go to at the time was My Type. I was having a moment with The Chainsmokers. “I hate to say it, but you’re just my type. You told me the truth, so I guess I can’t really blame you. But you’re just my type. The kind that only calls me late at night, you can’t decide if you’ll be yours or mine, I hate to say it but you’re just my type.”
I wasn’t sure if I was getting any acknowledgement for my music choice, and I was rather hoping I didn’t but I saw his head lift up every so slightly, then back down. I watched the cigarette hanging out of his mouth for any sign of a smile and I swear to god I got it. Maybe one day something could come of this. And then almost as quickly as it started it was over.
“Did you text C?”
“Yeah, I did.”
I scrambled to look as normal as possible. Do something productive, I told myself. In walked C, and T behind him. I watched as C looked at S and scoffed. “I fucking knew it.” I heard him mumble.
He sat down across from me, looking me dead in the face. I didn’t flinch, shit, I didnt move. I inhaled and raised one eyebrow, feigning innocence. “We text you.” I said.
“Fucking phone is dead.” He grabbed mine and sifted the messages for his. He sighed when he found it and threw it back at me.
He did the ritual and got everyone what they “needed”. He refused to help me. “Have S do it.”
“Um, S. . can you. .?”
He looked up at me and nodded, “Yeah, sure.”
The moment he touched me and kneeled in front of me I locked eyes with him and smiled. I was safe for now. I knew it. There was a strength, a resolve, that had been burned out. I was lighting it for myself again. That night T and S left together. C wouldn’t even look at S. Finally, I told him that S had something to say and prodded S with a swift look. He said his piece about going to jail and they hugged. Maybe all was right with them, but it was going to be hell for me. When they shut the door behind them I wanted nothing more than to run out with them. That night was almost too much for me to remember. Everything we owned got flung around that night, me along with it. But I held my ground. I took the blows as they came, mental and physical, until it wore him down. Why do I do this to myself, I thought. Hope, is the simple answer. Hope that one day, eventually, it would be different for me. Better. If thats my end goal why am I pinning my hope on a 39 year old married man? Was my next question. Cause he deserves it, was my answer. His heart is good, there is a goodness in him that I can only hope to get to know. There is a love and a light that deserves someone to give it everything they have. And the heart he has selflessly shown me pieces of is the same one that is taking a similar beating as mine. I have this uncanny ability to give, and give without much expected from someone else. I take everything on the belief that people are inherently good, and will do good for others. I’m generally wrong but I do it anyway. I placed that same faith in him. And so, my friends, here is where we begin. Bear with me as we trudge through the dark space my memories have taken refuge.
It’ll all come together eventually, I promise.
maicidorae 