I was sitting at work, and I should have been concentrating on finishing my presentation, because it was almost five thirty and I had dinner plans at seven. But for the past couple of days, I couldn't concentrate on anything. Ever since Jenn had found my picture box under the sweatshirts in my closet. Monica always used to try to get me to organize them in a photo album, but she just wanted another chance to implement her new cross-referencing photo system. She understood that I had a method to my madness. She understood a lot of things about me.
I was cleaning out my closet, because, well, it was March (old habits die hard) and Jenn stopped over on her way home from work. I had everything all over the place, and she offered to help me finish up. I really didn't want her help, but how do you tell your girlfriend that you'd rather clean your closet out by yourself? So I just thanked her and we started folding sweaters. I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, she was organizing my picture box.
"Jenn," I said, "What are you doing?"
"Oh, I was just trying to organize your photos. I don't know how you find anything in here."
"It's okay, you don't have to do that." I said reaching for the box, which she pulled out of my grasp.
"No, it's fine, I want to."
"I actually kind of have a system, so..." I tried again for the box.
"Oh... well okay. I just thought-"
"No, I get it, but really, it's okay." I said, maybe a little too harshly, because she looked hurt. And I didn't want to be mean... it was just one more thing that Monica understood and she couldn't.
Later, when she left, I was getting into bed and I saw something flutter to the floor. When I picked it up, it was a picture of her. Jenn must have been looking at it before I came in, and left it out. It was this great picture... one of those pictures that really capture the moment, when the color is just right and the light is perfect and the person looks so natural. She was sitting on my couch, reading the newspaper. I remembered that morning. I had one more picture left on the roll, and we were about to go to the grocery store, so I wanted to get rid of it so I could get it developed. She looked up and grinned for me as I snapped it haphazardly and threw her her jacket. And it turned out to be the best picture I ever took.
I just remembered that time at the market
You snuck up behind me and jumped on my shopping cart
And rolled down Aisle Five
You looked behind you and smiled back at me
Crashed into a rack full of magazines
They asked us
If we could leave.
That day, at the grocery store, was one of the best times I've ever had. I know that sounds stupid or... sad, really. But it was. We split up, because I needed detergent and she needed orange juice. I was torn between Tide and Downey when she reached over my shoulder and picked one of the boxes up.
"Works much better on those tough stains," she said grinning. I smiled back.
"Thanks, I liked you in the commercial." I said teasingly. She swatted my shoulder, then kissed me suddenly. When we pulled away, our foreheads lingered together.
"I feel like I'm seventeen all the sudden." I told her quietly. "Everything feels so-"
"I know." she said, silencing me. "Me too." A mischevious grin came over her porcelain features and she reached behind me and jumped into my nearly empty shopping cart.
"Give me a push." she said laughing.
"Monica!", I protested.
"Don't be such an old man!" she argued. That was it. "Oh I'll give you a push." I said as I sent her sailing down Aisle Five, Detergents and Cleaning Products. Halfway down the aisle, she threw her hands up in the air, and amidst the disapproving glares from more mature shoppers, she turned around and smiled at me. Next thing I knew, she crashed into the magazine rack. I ran to help her out of the cart, and we both couldn't stop laughing as the manager asked us if we could leave the premises immediately.
It was the only time I can remember having so much fun in a supermarket.
Can't remember
What went wrong last September
Though I'm sure you'd remind me
If you had too
Our love was
Comfortable and so broken in...
But that was a long time ago. It had been nearly a year since they had broken up, for reasons that he could barely remember, reasons that a year ago had meant so much. Things were getting too serious, he vaguely remembered telling her. They were too young. It was going too fast. He wanted to slow down. At first, he thought she had taken it really well. But things were weird between them. She was upset about it. When she finally told him she thought they should see other people, it was like a bomb being dropped on him. He begged her to reconsider, tried to explain himself, told her he hadn't meant what he'd said, he was just scared... but it was all in vain, because the damage had been done and she didn't believe him. And just as quickly as she had came into his life, she left.
I sleep with this new girl I'm still getting used to
My friends all approve, say she's gonna be good for me
They throw me high fives.
She swears the Bible is all that she reads
And prefers that I not use profanity
Your mouth was, so dirty...
It was a good ten months before I was even interested in dating other girls. Ironic how much in love I was that I had to push her away. I hadn't even realized how much she meant to me until she was gone.
I met Jenn at a superbowl party that my roomate threw. Joey had invited basically every hot girl he knew (which was a lot), and in true Joey form, very few men. The day I take dating advice from Joey is the day hell freezes over, but for some reason the conversation we had before the party had an impact on me.
"Man, look. I know you had something great with her... But its been like a year."
"No it hasn't. It's been ten months." I argued.
"Okay, fine. It's been ten months. And you haven't been on a single date. Not one. Not even... for casual sex!"
"Okay, that's because I'm not you."
"Don't get me wrong, okay, I liked her a lot, and I was rooting for you two. But Chandler... it's over, and you need to accept that. You need to move on."
"Joey, you don't-"
"Don't tell me I don't understand, because I do understand. And so does Phoebe, and so does Mitch. Because we knew you before her, and then we knew you with her, and now we see you after her... and it's like you're a different person. And none of us wanted to say anything, because we knew you were hurting... but it's been too long Chandler. You've been like this for too long."
"Joey... I'm sorry if I haven't been... myself lately. It's just... I miss her you know?"
"I know, man. But I think- we all think- you need to get back out there. It's the first step to getting over her."
"Maybe. Or maybe its the first step to realizing I'll never love anyone again." I chuckled bitterly.
"Chandler, that's stupid. Do you even KNOW how many hot girls are coming here tonight??? And there's this one you have to meet. Her name is Jenn. I think she'll be perfect for you! And Phoebe helped pick her out, so don't worry."
"Right, because Phoebe's taste in women is impeccable, I'm sure." I said dryly.
"Does that mean you'll meet her?"
"Sure. Why not?" I answered, at first to appease him, until I realized that everything he had said was the truest thing I'd let myself hear since she left.
Jenn was smart, funny, and easy to talk to. She knew I was getting over a relationship, and she didn't push me. We started seeing eachother casually. For once, my friends had made an ok choice.
Mitch, Phoebe and Joey were ecstatic that their matchmaking plan had seemed to pan out.
"Did you sleep with her yet?" Joey had asked after a few weeks.
"Joey!" Phoebe had exclaimed, smacking him. "Did you?"
"Yeah." I admitted. "It was... different."
"Different good?" Phoebe asked.
"Um... yeah. Yeah, I think it was."
"This is great. You're doing the right thing." Mitch told me, accompanied by a pat on the back.
"Jenn's gonna be great for you!" Phoebe said, all bubbly, and I stirred my coffee.
And Jenn is great. She's really smart, and she likes me a lot, and she's fun to be around. She might be a little... overbearing at times. And so she doesn't like it when I curse, big deal, right? Somehow it is a big deal sometimes. Maybe because Monica couldn't have cared less.
Life of the party
And she swears that she's artsy
But you could distinguish
Miles from Coltrain...
Our love was comfortable and
So broken in...
she's perfect, so flawless,
or so they say...
Everyone loves Jenn, especially at parties, because she's just fun. She's easy to talk to, and quick to laugh. Which is good, for me, because I make a lot of stupid jokes. But sometimes her laughter seems... almost forced. And she's so determined to come off as intelligent and artsy that it's practically transparant.
One night, after we had gone out to dinner, I suggested this great jazz club that I had heard about at work. Jenn didn't want to go, had said jazz was "pretentious" and if I wanted to do something art-y, why didn't we go to that new exhibit at the Metropolitan, or she could get tickets to the Met on Friday, and didn't I just love the Met, didn't I think it was absolutely scintillating...
Monica loved jazz. We used to go to this club on 23rd and Broadway every once and a while, before it had closed. We used to listen, drink, talk, dance. She almost knew more about Coltrain than I did. Almost.
She thinks I can't see the smile that she's faking
The poses for pictures that are being taken
I loved you, grey sweatpants
No makeup... so perfect...
Somethign about Jenn... about our relationship... seemed so fake. Like how she always laughed a little too hard at a joke that was a little too stupid. Monica would roll her eyes and tell me I was a dork. And yeah, she's just being nice. But it's like... not real, you know? She's just trying too hard. And I don't want to hurt her, because she's a great person... and I don't want to disappoint my friends, because they care so much about me.
It's like, she's always dressed up, you know? Even when we're just hanging out, watching a movie, she has her makeup all done. And when she stays over, it's like its premeditated, because she has a bag with her every time, and when we wake up, she gets dressed up again and even brings a hairdryer. Monica used to stay over whenever she felt like it. She'd fall asleep in my old t-shirts. She'd hang out with me and Joey watching movies, wearing a tank top and grey sweatpants. And she was beautiful, more radiant than Jenn somehow.
Our love was comfortable and
So broken in
She's perfect
So flawless
I'm not impressed
I want you back.
I went to dinner a couple hours ago, only a few minutes late. I broke up with Jenn. I had to, it didn't feel right, me having all these doubts and her sitting there, all happy and thinking everything's great. She wasn't right for me. I told her I just wasn't ready for another girlfriend. She was disappointed, she said, but she understood and told me to call her if I felt like going out again. We didn't have dessert.
I'm home now, staring at the phone, trying to get up my nerve. And really, who knows if she's still at the same phone number, at the same apartment, or even in the same city. But I know that if I don't pick up the phone and call her, I'll never forgive myself.
My fingers fly over the seven digits with a memory all their own. The phone rings four times, and when I'm about to hang up someone answers.
"Hello?"
My mouth is dry.
"Hello???... Hello? Chris if this is you again-"
"Rachel?" I ask hoarsely.
"Yeah...", Monica's roomate answered suspiciously.
"It's Chandler... Is Monica home?"
"Chandler- hi. Um... yeah hang on. I'll get her."
I don't even know what I'm going to say. And then suddenly I do. It's so simple.
I want you back.
