When we arrived at Mimi's loft, she looked at me seriously. She hadn't been a part of our group for that long, but she had known me long enough to know that I don't ever talk to anyone about anything of any consequence. I just want attention. It was a completely different story if I gave some bullshit story about being afraid to be in the apartment by myself. Granted, I don't, but watching Mimi at the Cat Scratch wasn't exactly something that drew attention to me, especially given that I had been hiding by the door the entire time. She knew that something was wrong, and my little slip up when we were leaving the club had made her completely positive that I wasn't myself right now. God Maureen, you can't even keep up appearances? What's wrong with you?
"Maureen, not that I don't enjoy your presence, but what's going on? What happened?" I cleared my throat, trying to search for words to explain my inner torment. What did happen? What set me off?
"Well, nothing really happened, it's just that Joanne…she's so distant. I live with her, but I barely ever see her—I guess I just…I don't feel…"
"Loved?" She looked me square in the eye, surprised to see that my eyes were guarded, despite the brokenness in my voice, my inability to express myself, which was supposed to be one of my strengths. Pull yourself together. You don't want to make a big deal of this. But when we're broken…how we hate to be broken…no. I am not broken. I am perfectly fine. "Mo, I don't mean to pry, it's just that this is out of character for you. And I know you well enough to love you—as does everyone who knows you. But you can seem so cold, especially in regards to relationships that this sudden emotion is very surprising." So this is what everyone thinks of me—the glacier-hearted bitch who broke Mark's heart, who is incapable of feeling. I was brought back to the present by Mimi's sudden coughing fit.
"Are you okay honey?" She was sweating a bit, and looked impossibly weak—the complete opposite of the diva I had seen on the stage.
"I'm fine. We're talking about you remember?"
"Mimi…"
"I'm alright, I promise. Go on. Tell me what's on your mind. Take me out of my own problems for a little while? I'm sick of the same old thing everyday." Touché, Mimi. Nicely worded guilt trip. It worked.
"Oh, I don't know where to begin. It just seems like I see her for two seconds in the morning when she wakes me up to tell me that she's leaving, and then I don't see her again until the same time the next day. I mean, it's okay if she's really busy at work or whatever, but couldn't she at least call to tell me that she's okay? To ask me how I am? I can't have a relationship for the both of us all by myself. I just feel like I'm wasting my time. It's been such a long time since I was in a relationship where there wasn't something in the way. I mean, with Mark it was the camera and Roger—he was a full-time job after…" My voice trailed off as a chill went up my spine, "that was a really hard time for all of us. That was why I hooked up with Joanne in the first place. I honestly didn't expect the relationship to grow into anything sustainable. But as much as I am upset with Joanne for not being around enough, I am furious with myself because I don't know if I love her anymore…I don't know if I really feel anything for her, or I am just being a hypocritical bitch. I can't expect her to want to spend time with me when I can't return the same devotion that she gives me. Or if I don't even want to spend time with myself…"
"Wait, wait, wait—hold up. What is that all about? You are always so sure of yourself, so confident."
"No, I'm just a decent actress."
"Well, at least give yourself credit for being a fucking amazing actress! You have everyone fooled."
"Well, not everyone…"
"Okay, fine. At least for having me fooled."
"Alright then."
"Didn't it concern you that she wasn't home yet? Is it abnormally late for her to be returning?"
"Well, usually she's back by midnight, though I think that before tonight, one was the latest that she had ever come home. I don't think I'm that worried about her though. She tends to get carried away…"
"Workaholic?"
"It seems to make her happier than I can…"
"Oh, now that can't be true! You are, by far, the most fun person I have ever met!"
"I'm just irresponsible, messy, spontaneous…maybe that's not her idea of fun? I have no idea. I don't doubt that she loves me, but I feel like…she has to choose me, or I'm gone."
"Have you tried talking to her about it?"
"When? She's never around for long enough." She looked at me sympathetically, trying to come up with a solution to my problem. She is really adorable, especially when she is thinking really hard, when she's concerned. I am so glad that I came to her…if I didn't have Mimi, where would I have gone? Mark? That would hurt him so much…
"I know. Here's what you will do. You are going to wake up however early it is that she wakes up, or else you will talk to her when you get home, or maybe that will end up being the same time, but regardless, you are going to have to find a way to talk to her in person. If that doesn't work, you are going to go to her office and sit there until she talks to you. Because this issue is too important to ignore, because it is tearing you apart, but it isn't so major that you should break up over it. I think that when you tell her how you feel, she will understand." How can Mimi be so positive? Such a light in my life? Even as her light is going out? Even though she has no faith in her own love or relationship? I owe it to her to help her out, too. But how can I do that? "Mo? You okay?" She placed her hand on my shoulder, which snapped me out of my bubble.
"Oh, sorry." I blushed, embarrassed to have been caught escaping to another world entirely my own.
"Honey, you're crying." Her voice was tender, cooing.
"Huh. Would you look at that? I am." I laughed, and quickly pushed my guilt and fear aside, managing to stop the tears almost immediately, flashing her a huge smile. That's great acting, ladies and gentlemen! Guilt for having nothing to offer, fear of losing her to her disease. "I'm fine. I should just be going now, it's getting really late, or is it…early? In any event, I'll drop by tomorrow."
"I'll be upstairs if I'm not here." She grinned, ecstatic that she and Roger were okay again, and I couldn't help but be happy for her. I hugged her warmly; her happiness and positivity starting to seep into me as I walked back to Joanne's in the frigid night air. But as I continued walking, I got back into my own head again, and it wasn't all flowers and rainbows in there. The pitch-black night, illuminated only by ugliness, revealing scary figures that I would've rather not seen. Drug dealers, rapists, and overall sketchy people who seemed to be fleeing from some sort of crime surrounded me, and the freezing wind tore at me, sharply screaming at me. When I finally got back the apartment, it was about four. I walked in to find Joanne sleeping on the couch, sitting upright, holding the note that I had left in her hand. I laughed softly; she looked so peaceful, and I almost didn't want to wake her because a conscious Joanne is nowhere near as angelic, especially after I had left an angry note, which more or less implied that I would be out cheating on her. I drew in a deep breath before rubbing her shoulder lightly to wake her (she wasn't a very heavy sleeper, but I guess most people aren't when they fall asleep on the couch. Of course, I am, however).
"Pookie? What're you doing out here?" She blinked a few times, then glanced at the paper in her hands, immediately remembering why she was there, and upon recalling she said,
"Well, I wasn't waiting up for you, apparently." I smiled nervously, not knowing what was to come.
"When did you get home, honey?"
"What time is it now?"
"About four."
"About a half an hour ago. I was really swamped." I sighed, somehow disappointed, though it wouldn't have made much difference if she had gotten home before that, since I wouldn't have been there. "Maureen, where were you?" she asked accusingly, narrowing her eyes at me as she became more awake, seeming to be more able to comprehend what was going on now. She began to scrutinize my appearance, to see if she could prove that I had been out cheating on her. It was then that I remembered that I had been crying, and hoped that she wouldn't pick up on it, that my makeup wouldn't give me away. If she could tell, she did a good job of concealing it.
"I was with Mimi. I didn't know where to go, but I didn't want to sit here by myself anymore. I needed to talk to somebody, to see a physical person. I feel like I'm wasting away in here sometimes…anyway, I didn't want to see Mark, and I certainly didn't want to see Roger, and Collins is out of town again, and Angel's with him…and I didn't want to get drunk or sit around the Life or the park in the dark…so I went to the Cat Scratch and watched her for a little while, so that I would be there when she got off. Even though I don't know what I think of her job choice, she is really good." Joanne looked stunned, and was having a little trouble processing everything that I had just said. I felt my body tense up, and felt rage building up inside of me. What was she expecting me to say? I was out fucking some random sleazy stranger? I was making love to Mark? She sighed heavily and drew me into her arms.
"Honeybear, I am so sorry that I have been so busy…" I let my head fall on her chest, tears of resentment and sadness streaming out of my eyes, collecting on her drab beige sweater. Her embrace had the power to make all of my defenses desert me, my logic. The only place that I truly felt safe enough to fall to pieces was in her arms. It surprised me that she could tell what had been bothering me without me having to say anything. I guess the streaks of mascara were a pretty good giveaway…
