Five minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom, looking slightly less terrible, but my eyes were still bloodshot, my face still splotchy. I didn't even bother with the makeup in my purse, figuring I would be crying again anyway.

"Well, what're we waiting for?" Collins was looking me over very carefully, trying to assess the damage, I supposed, but it made me uncomfortable. That question made him realize what he was doing. He came over to me and held me for a moment.

"Maybe we should go before the waterworks start again?" I blushed a bit when he said this and buried my face in his shirt, and after about a minute finally separated from him and we walked to the café in silence.

When got there, I saw that Mark was sitting in my favorite corner by himself—it was where we always used to go when we were together, all those long years ago. I felt a sharp pain in my chest and inhaled sharply, suddenly feeling queasy. I stumbled into Collins, and he had to catch me so that I didn't collapse into a pile on the floor.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, peachy. Let's just sit, okay?" I sensed the obnoxious tone of my response and felt guilty. Great job, Maureen, way to make everyone hate you. I practically fell into the nearest chair and rubbed my temples.

"I don't appreciate your attitude," he said when he got over the absurdity of my actions. He still wasn't used to me being such a mess, "now what's really bothering you?"

"Isn't it obvious? I've wasted my life. I don't even like who I am. That's why I wanted to end it. But now I'm realizing how selfish that is, and I don't like that I tried to kill myself, but I don't know how to compensate for my empty, pathetic life. I hate that I never forgave April for killing herself, and yet I was going to do the same. I'm a terrible person. I always have been. Additionally, my art and beliefs have been compromised by this disgusting world, and all the changes I have made for Joanne. I'm not getting anything in return. Everything I do hurts somebody, and everything I don't do hurts somebody else, and everything hurts me. I was so detached from everything…I didn't realize it at the time. My whole lifetime of suffering is assaulting me now. I want an easy way out. My life hasn't ever been easy, but all these suppressed emotions, regrets that I didn't know were there, are suffocating me. I thought I had no regrets. I don't know what to make of my love life…"

"It always concerned me how you never really talked about your emotions, but you always seemed to be okay, so I never pried, but maybe I should have." It was true…the only time I ever felt anything was when Joanne essentially dumped me after my first big protest. I pretended I was okay, but I had to beg her to take me back. I think that was more because I was afraid of being alone than because I loved her though. I hate being numb.

"Maureen? You in there?"

"Oh yeah. Sorry." God this is embarrassing. I can't focus on anything. I wish I could just go into hiding like Roger did after April killed herself—maybe I should try it and just see where my life is in a year. Yeah right. "I wonder what Mark's doing here by himself. He doesn't even have his camera…" I was watching him. He looked so alone and sad that I wanted to go over and hug him. I wonder if that would be weird?

"Don't change the subject Maureen." Collins didn't seem to have noticed how closely I was watching Mark. That was probably the best.

"I wasn't trying to—just look at him! He looks so lonely." I must have said that more loudly than I realized, because his head snapped up and he stared at me somewhat blankly, like my voice had snapped him out of some sort of trance. I felt my face getting red, and I couldn't hold his gaze, so I dropped my head into my hands again.

"How's it going?" I hadn't noticed Mark coming up because I was too busy tracing the grain of the table and avoiding Collins' concerned and inquisitive eyes. I knew if I looked into his eyes he would understand everything. I so transparent, with no defenses to speak of—too exhausted from life to mask my pain.

"Hey Pookie." I was suddenly aware of Mark's hand on my shoulder, and I stared at it as though I couldn't comprehend the gesture. He didn't seem to notice. I looked up into his eyes. He looked tired—about as exhausted as I was, and I melted, "Oh Marky…are you okay?"

"If okay feels like you've been hit by a freight train," I heard Collins try to suppress laughter. I shot him a look.

"Yeah, I know the feeling," I replied, "Why do look so tired baby?"

"I'm fine mother." He rolled his eyes playfully, so I pouted at him in the same spirit.

"Take a seat, Mark," Collins interjected. I scooted over, indicating the space in the booth that I had been sprawled out over.

"I was actually going to--"

"Marky!" I whined and gave him puppy eyes.

"Okay. I'll stay for a bit."

"Yay!" I flashed him a huge smile and kissed him. He blushed a bit and moved away a bit.

"You seem to be feeling better Maureen," Mark said as he playfully pushed me away. Collins laughed,

"Yeah—before you came over she was bursting into random bouts of tears with no warning, and couldn't focus on anything. Now she's all hugs and smiles." Embarrassed, I blushed deeply and put on an angelic face. Mark looked a little uncomfortable as well, so Collins capitalized on it,

"Oooh I think someone has a crush." I laughed,

"Where have you been Thomas? Been there done that." I grinned, though. Mark just being there made me so happy, and I couldn't quite figure out why. Mark blushed, so I pounced on him and exclaimed,

"I'm sorry sweetie. It wasn't that bad, but we just weren't meant to be." I flashed a huge smile at him to let him know I was joking and rested my head on his shoulder. He looked at me like I was crazy. I laughed, but then I started to remember the things I had been thinking about Mark, and saying to Collins…

"…Maureen!"

"What?"

"Wow. Way to space out there. What was that about?" I looked nervously at Collins, whose face was contorted from trying not to laugh.

"Marky, I think she's in love with you."

"What? Collins! That's not funny." Mark was so cute when he got excited.

"Who says I was kidding?"

"Do I look like a woman to you? Don't answer that." They continued like that for about five minutes, meanwhile I had retracted into the corner of the booth, and turned to face the window. Tears were streaming down my face. They didn't notice until my body started to convulse. Mark placed a hand on my shoulder gently and I must have jumped a mile. He stroked my arm and I turned to him. He tried to soothe and quiet me,

"Shh…what's wrong? It's okay. Come here." He held me and rocked me. I felt like I was four again. Mark seemed surprisingly feminine and maternal in that moment. I laughed and said he would make a good mother, but held him tight to let him know that I was grateful and wanted him to stay. I tried to breathe deeply and compose myself to speak, which took a couple minutes, but I managed to say,

"God. When did I stop being able to take a joke? My love life is such a mess Marky. I treated you badly…I'm so sorry."

"You have to stop apologizing about that! I'm over it."

"Sorry." He laughed, and I clapped my hands over my mouth when I realized what I had said, which made him laugh harder. He rubbed my back, but said he had to be going since he said he was late meeting Roger, who was trying to buy Mimi a birthday present, but he said he would call me later so we could talk. I flashed him a weak, sheepish smile, and he left.

"Maureen, what the hell was that?"

"What? Oh. Mark has been so good to me this week. He understands me so well. I just can't believe that I was so awful to him. He is so sweet."

"You know that boy is still in love with you, right?"

"Yeah," I sighed, "I just hope I don't hurt him again. Or Joanne. I have to figure out what I want, and what I am going to do. Ugh…or maybe neither of them is right for me…" At that precise moment, my cell phone started ringing. It was Joanne.

"Hey Pookie."

"Honeybear. Did you eat?"

"When?"

"Today, Maureen."

"Um…"

"I thought not. When did you last consume anything other than alcohol?"

"Pookie!" I protested, mostly scared because I didn't know.

"I'm just worried about you baby."

"Me too," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I'm at the Life with Collins right now. I'll take care of it. Is that the only reason you called?"

"Yeah. And I wanted to say I'll be back late tonight."

"But Joanne!"

"I'm sorry Maureen, but I have a job to do."

"I hope it loves you right."

"Maureen!"

"I'll talk to you later Pookie. I have to go."

"But Maur--" I hung up on her, exasperated. What the hell was her problem?

"What was that all about?"

"Ugh. Just Joanne being herself."

"Oh. So right now the balance is leaning towards Marky-poo."

"Ugh. Shut up." How transparent am I? This is stupid. "Can we go now?"

"If you really want to. You haven't said much to me since we got here, though, and you haven't even touched your coffee."

"I'm sorry—I'm just tired. Can we try this again some other time?"

"Sure. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay. I'm going to go home now then. Bye babe!" I threw a few crumpled bills down on the table for my untouched drink and practically ran out of the café before Collins could make me walk with him. When I was about halfway to the apartment, I started to feel dizzy and a little nauseous. Nausea? I haven't eaten anything in…how long? I stumbled into a garbage can and threw up a bunch of nasty liquidy stuff, since I hadn't actually consumed anything in the past couple days. Suddenly I felt very weak, and couldn't hold myself up on the can anymore, and I fell to the ground, hitting my head on the concrete.