I splashed the red wine into my glass and sunk back into my couch cushion. I heard Leonard's door slam, slam! I heard Priya's voice thick with her Indian accent, heard Leonard say something in response. I bit the inside of my cheek and then drank half my wine in one gulp. I couldn't believe this. Could not fucking believe it. Leonard. Nerdy little Leonard who had been falling all over himself to get my attention when I first moved here, now it was me. I was falling all over myself. The tables had turned, boy. I was a shattered mess. I looked at my dirty blond hair hanging in strings around my face. It used to be so cute, so straight and blond blond. I didn't have the time or energy to straighten it anymore, and I didn't have the money to keep dying it that pretty princess blond. It had gone back to my natural dirty blond.
I didn't really know what to do. This was new. Boys before him had been quick amusements, here for a weekend or two and then gone and I didn't care. Leonard was different, he was smart, funny in his accidental way, caring, thoughtful. I just let him go and now he was with a lawyer, he was with someone as smart as he was, how could I compete with that? I hadn't even finished community college. Sure, I went to a few classes and felt the boredom and inertia sucking me in as the heaters droned and I looked out at that same Nebraska landscape and I had to get out. I would chew off my arm to get out. I didn't care about education or stability or anything, I had to leave that stifling place and where better to go than the sunny dreamland of California? Right? California was where dreams came true, it was where you could become a rock star or a movie star, it was where you could become rich and famous. Was I really that dumb? Was this blond hair truly indicative of my intelligence or lack thereof? Had I found fame and fucking fortune? No. I found a one bedroom apartment that I could barely afford and a job as a waitress and audition after audition where I didn't get the part because I was too cheerful looking or too young or too old or too mid-western. Too something, I was never the right fit and I wouldn't think that it may be because I couldn't do it, I wasn't an actress, I was nothing. I was a waitress. When Sheldon would point things of that nature out to me they hurt so much worse because I knew he wasn't being mean. He was stating facts and those facts pointed to the fact that I was stupid and unsuccessful. I picked at some fuzz on the couch, felt the fabric ripping beneath my fingers with a satisfaction. How could I compete with Priya? I finished the wine in my glass and thought about pouring another one.
I heard three knocks at my door and before I heard the voice I knew it was Sheldon.
"Penny," Good, maybe Sheldon could distract me from feeling like my heart was somehow ripped from my chest. Maybe he could make me forget that I let such a great guy go and would never get him back, and I'd be stuck with cute but dumb jocks who couldn't talk about anything intelligent. I couldn't count the number of dates I'd been on where the guy rattled on and on about sports or cars and I wanted to slit my own throat just so the date would end, and the glazed look in my eyes wouldn't deter the guy one bit from his boring train of thought, I had hopped on the boring train, I wanted to kill myself and that would be all the types of conversation left to me.
"Penny," I waited out the knocks and the three repetitions of my name. You had to wait or it upset Sheldon. That was another thing about Leonard, how good he was with Sheldon. He was so patient with him, so understanding of his quirks and idiosyncrasies, so understanding. Leonard had true compassion for other people and I gave it all up, I gave it all away because I was too cool for commitment, I was too cool to hear "I love you," What I would give to hear it now.
"Penny," I got up and felt wobbly, the wine was hitting me. I eyed the bottle sitting on the coffee table and knew that I would have another glass of it, and then maybe another glass after that. I went to the door and opened it.
"Sheldon," I said, looking up at him. He wore what he usually wore, a long sleeved T-shirt with a short sleeve T-shirt over it and pants, beige pants with pleats and those odd shoes of his. I wore what was clean, a scoop necked shirt and shorts.
"Penny, we are out of tea. Do you have any?"
"Yeah, come in," I said, pouring my wine and not looking at him, but I heard his footsteps and I heard the door close softly behind him. I wanted him to stay because I was bored being by myself, and I was bored thinking about Leonard and how I had let him slip away. I knew Sheldon might not stay because more often than not he preferred to be alone, and my desire for someone to stay with me and entertain me and make me forget all my poor choices wouldn't be enough to make him stay.
I got the tea from my cabinet and held the package in my hand and gazed at Sheldon standing with his hands clasped behind his back. I thought that I might like to hear "Soft Kitty" now because I was sad, I was lovesick, and that's a type of sick. I wondered if he would stay and drink his tea while I drank wine, and if he would sing that song to me. There was sometimes little comfort in this world. You needed to find a slice of it if you could.
"Sheldon," I said, still holding the tea in my hand, and he looked at me expectantly, "do you want to have your tea here?"
"I suppose I could," he said, and this meant only one thing. He wasn't doing anything over at his apartment. He wasn't playing a game with Howard and Raj, he wasn't working, he wasn't doing anything because if he was he would choose that thing over me. Leonard, on the other hand, always chose me.