Saturday, 5th November 2016
13.00
Isak saw me kiss Sonja last night.
My mouth goes dry. My stomach flip-flops and my heart feels empty as I grind to a halt in the middle of my walk with mum. I re-read the five texts I have just received from Emma.
Emma: Words of advice. You might want to
avoid shoving your tongue down
someone else's throat in front of
Isak if you want to be with him.
Especially if that person is your
gf. Just saying.
Emma: I'm talking about last night
Emma: Congratulations on messing up
three people's lives
Emma: It's Emma btw
Emma: You're such a dick
Isak was at the party. I didn't notice because I was too busy kissing my ex-girlfriend.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Why did I do that? How bad did it look? How drunk was I? How low was I feeling? How desperate for closeness? How shit are my excuses?
I shouldn't have done it. Full stop. Now Isak is going to put two and two together and come up with eleven. I know how things will look from his point of view. Day one I told him I had dumped Sonja. Day two I texted him to say I got cold feet and wanted to cool things off with him. Day three he saw me kiss Sonja. I look like a fuckboy who has messed around with a dude behind his girl's back, regretted it and gone back to his girl.
"Shit."
My sunglasses do nothing to dull the headache generated by my hangover and my fuck up. It goes from 10 out of 10 to an 11.
I scroll through my top contacts.
"What is it?" Mum asks, concerned.
"Wait." I reach his number and press dial.
The park is ridiculously busy today; baby's crying, dogs barking, groups of school girls shouting conversations at each other, birds chirping. And yet they fade into the background as I press the phone to my ear and hear the ringing tone.
I close my eyes and rub the back of my hand against my lips over and over again as I will him to pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.
"Please." I whisper.
It goes to voicemail.
"This is Isak. I'm probably napping. Please text me and I'll text you back. Thank you."
I open my mouth to speak but I don't know what to say.
Where do I begin?
Sorry for sending mixed messages. It's because I like you but I didn't want you to find out I was bipolar. It's because you rejecting me would ruin me and you accepting me would ruin
you.
Sorry for kissing Sonja. Four years of history don't fade in three days. I was lost and I came to that party to find you not to reconnect with her.
Sorry. All I seem to do nowadays is fuck up and apologise.
I end the call. Great. I have just sent him a voice message with my heavy breathing.
I stare at my phone not knowing what to do.
"Even." Mum grips my arms then takes my sunglasses off. I practically hiss from the discomfort of the sun hitting my retinas. "What's wrong?"
"I fucked up."
-:-:-:-
Monday, 14th November 2016
09.58
Tracking Isak down used to be easy. Tactic number 1- Track his group of friends and he was usually not far away. Tactic number 2- Go to the school gym at lunch time three times a week where he would be practicing with the basketball team.
Both of these tactics fail me. He seems to have distanced himself from his posse and has not shown up to practice.
I am getting worried about him. I worry that it's because he thinks that the truth is out about me and him having a thing. I worry that he is hiding away to avoid facing what this means. I worry that he thinks I don't care.
I worry that he feels alone.
I can't stop thinking about him. I have even rushed up to a couple of students because they kind of looked like him from a distance. But when I got close or they turned around it wasn't him. Not even close.
No one fucking comes close.
I am not sleeping well. Okay, so my sleep is normally shit but for that last couple of weeks it's been rock bottom. I'd guess I have probably totalled 10 proper hours in 5 days so I am a shell of myself as I hang out in the schoolyard with a group of guys from media studies class. I drift in and out of the conversation; trying to stay awake and trying to keep an eye out for Isak.
"Tomas, tell Even the good news." Alec says.
"I have a russebiler." Tomas says excitedly. "Well it's the van my sister used last year when she graduated but it's in really good condition and my parents have kept it for me. Awesome sound system. The base is so good that your chest literally thumps! We'd need to make it our own though. The seats are upholstered in animal prints."
"Can't have that. We need to figure out our brand." Alec has the rare attribute of actually being taller than me.
I shake my head. "I wasn't planning to do the russ bus thing."
To be honest I hadn't really thought about Russefeiring. My plan this year- post-mental health relapse and school transfer- was to knuckle down, get through my final year of high school and get into university. Distractions like break ups, catching explosive feelings for someone new and heavy partying have not been part of the plan.
"What! That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard."
"Unacceptable, dude." Tomas says. "It won't even cost as much as it could. We already have the van!"
"We just need to cover costs for its makeover."
"A couple of TVs."
"How about a pimped out reclining sofa?!"
"And a lighting system... and alcohol."
"Don't forget our clothes, overalls, t-shirts and hats."
"Fuck. Actually it'll probably cost a bit… but we can get a sponsor."
I tune out of their ramblings because I see Isak.
He is here, walking from the school gates, across the yard, towards the main building. He is very late and on his own. Not normal for him.
He has done that thing that I do when I take the bus to school; make himself impenetrable to interference from the world. His earphones are wedged into his ears and under a beanie. his beanie is under a hoodie. He blanks everyone as he walks deliberately. His gaze focuses on the ground. I am not sure if he has even seen me but I can't take my eyes off him.
I drink every part of him in. His name is on the tip of my tongue.
"Jesus, Even." I feel a jab in my side and look at Alec. "Wind your tongue back in."
"Huh?"
"Dude, are you checking that guy out?"
"I-" I look back at Isak as he passes us.
"Wait. You're gay?"
"I'm-" I force myself to tear my eyes away from Isak and to pay attention to my classmates for a second. "I'm not. I'm-"
"No. Sorry. I didn't mean it to sound bad. It's cool. I just didn't realise."
At that moment Isak crashes into another student and goes flying backwards as the student mumbles, "Watch where you are going!"
I want to punch him in the throat.
Watch where you are fucking going...
"He's the guy from the party." Alec says slowly as a memory comes to him. He points at my Cute Caesar as Isak straightens up, pulls himself together and rushes into school.
"The one who got into a fight with his friend because he's gay. His name is Isak. The rumour is that he's been seeing some third year dude at our school..." My face must say a thousand words because Alec's face shows the dawning of realisation.
"You're the third year dude."
"I thought you had a girlfriend." Tomas says, combing a hand through his short dark hair in confusion.
"I had one. Now I don't."
I am not sure I want to share the mess that is my personal life with this lot. We ain't that close. So I change the subject.
"About the russebiler. I probably have a few things I can contribute."
"So you're bi?" Julian says. He's a quiet one this yellow blond one, but not when it matters.
I hate that question. I hate defining my sexuality. Does it even matter? All three of them look at me as if seeking an education.
"You know when you find something and you like it. It's just a matter of connection, of taste. Well, that is the best way I can describe it. I like what I like."
-:-:-:-
Tuesday, 15th November 2016
02.02
I can't sleep. The harder I try the more impossible it seems so I get out of bed, put on my hoodie and roll a joint. It will calm my thoughts and relax me. It will quieten this restlessness.
I take my phone, jack my headphones into it and crack open the window. The chilly night air blasts in as I sit on the window ledge and light up. I am doing everything my auntie advised against.
· 'Sleep plenty'- failing
· 'Take your meds'- this one has been fine after the hiccup during the weekend I spent with Isak.
· 'Try to keep a regular routine'- failing
· 'Surround yourself with people who care'- trying but it's hard when my once large social circle has whittled down to a few new acquaintances/friends. My few remaining 'old' friends are busy with their new university lives. My ex-girlfriend is a complicated situation. My parents are well meaning but sometimes over intrusive. And the guy I like won't talk to me (not that I can blame him).
· 'And try not to stress'- hahahahaha.
Auntie Suzanna would hate the fact that I smoke weed. I should stop really but...
I take a drag and stare up at the night sky obscuring my own view with the smoke that I blow out of my lungs. I put my headphones on and press play on Illmatic. I make it to half way through NY State of Mind before I have to stop.
Isak has fucking ruined this album for me. It used to be my favourite (it still is really) but now all I can do is think of him sitting opposite me on this window ledge, staring at me with those penetrating eyes of his, laughing at my stupid jokes, telling me grand stories that I am not sure I totally believe. I remember how as he got more wasted his tongue got looser, his looks got more lingering and his foot inched closer to mine. He looked so fucking delicious. The only thing that kept me in check- barely- was that I did not want to betray Sonja. That didn't stop me from wanting him to lunge forward and kiss me.
This music album is the soundtrack to that afternoon. I hate that because it brings back memories and memories are past tense.
I scroll through my playlists and get to a track by my favourite ever group. Jazz vibes. Political, romantic and ever changing. The Roots are no stereotypical hip hop group. In fact they are a legit band with instrument playing members. I fucking love their shit.
I smoke while listening to You Got Me.
Me: Baby, if you were worried 'bout where
I been or who I saw or
What club I went to with my homies
Baby don't worry you know that you got me
I have typed that chorus into a text to Isak. I stare at the words. Will he get what I mean if I send that to him? Will he understand that I think art and music speak louder and clearer than I ever could using my own words?
No.
Remember what Mathias said. Isak needs things said to him straight.
I need to talk to him face to face so I delete the message and finish the blunt.
-:-:-:-
Wednesday, 16th November 2016
10.05
I have almost given up hope of catching him. I nearly went up to his posse yesterday to ask whether they had seen him. I stopped when I realised I might attract more questions than answers from them.
That hasn't stopped me from chasing down Sara, his ex, between my media studies and English classes when I spot her walking out to the school yard with a group of friends.
"Have you seen Isak?"
She stares at me curiously,
"Isak. Again? What have you found of his this time?"
"Huh?"
"Last time you said he left a jumper in the cafeteria."
"Oh yes."
"I haven't seen him for a while to be honest. I don't make a habit of stalking my exes."
I am late for English class and decide to cut through the cafeteria to get there.
Sometimes it's true that things happen when you least expect.
Isak is here, walking away from the till and nearly into me.
We are both caught off guard. He is like a mirage. If I blink I am sure he'll vanish.
He looks as tired as I feel; his eyes are glazed and his cheeks, gaunt. I scan him from top to bottom and bottom to top. It wasn't so long ago that he thought nothing of nuzzling himself right up against me. Now he barely looks at me and when he does it's with quiet defiance.
I feel like a shit but what's new these days? As Emma said I have fucked with three people's lives.
"Hi."
It feels like the most pathetic opener but it's a start.
"Hi." He replies and looks down.
He is wearing the hat he forgot at my place and holding a plain melted cheese toastie that is almost as pitiful as the state of our relationship.
Is he trying to relive that day's memory the way I did last night? NAS and weed. Melted cheese and condiments.
"No cardamom?" I ask remembering.
Isak looks down at his paper plate. His laugh is emotionless as he delivers a soulless, "Cardamom!"
His laugh dies and the fake temporary smile falls off his face.
"No… so…"
This is it. This is my chance to make things better. I need to explain the kiss. I want him to understand my actions. I want him to like me again so that we can go back to being goofy and deep and close.
Here goes.
"But, uh-"
He doesn't let me start before saying,
"I think I've gotta go."
He practically knocks into me and the door as he pushes himself out of the school,building. I look back at him and clock a group of second year students sitting a short distance away. They must have seen the whole thing and are now looking at me as if watching a thrilling film. But Isak and I are not here to provide a show or gossip so I think against chasing him and head towards English instead.
-:-:-:-
Thursday 17th November 2016
14.08
My knee jerking has reached epic proportions today.
"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" Mathias asks.
"I'll take the good news. Fuck the bad news."
"Sorry. No can do."
"Fine. Good news first."
He looks at me with a smile and says. "You seem in a better mood than you were at the beginning of our last session."
"That's the good news?"
Mathias nods. "The bad news is that your results are back. Your lithium levels are low."
"I have been taking my tablets."
"I am not necessarily doubting that."
"I have. I missed a couple of pills a few weeks back but I've been on it since."
"I believe you, Even. In which case we'll need to up your dose."
"No."
"It's important. You're sub-therapeutic so your chance of relapsing is increased."
"Would you like to have nausea 24/7 and feel dazed and spaced out. Then throw in diarrhoea for good measure."
"They'll be temporary side effects while you adjust to the new dose."
I huff and sit back into my chair. This is such bullshit but I know that the alternative is far worse.
"How have you been feeling?" Mathias asks me while looking at my leg jerking away.
"Fine. A bit tired."
"Why?"
"Finding it hard to sleep."
"Why?"
"Because my life is shit at the minute."
"Do you want to talk about that?"
"Not really. Not today if that's okay."
"So at night what happens when you try to sleep?"
"No. It's not what you are thinking. I'm not getting flights of ideas. I am not hyper." I force myself to stop jerking my knee. "I am not going high."
"I didn't say you were but you brought it up. Is it on your mind?"
"No more than it usually is."
"Do you worry about it?"
"Stupid question, doc."
"Technically I'm not a doctor." Mathias gives me a small grin. "And you haven't answered my question."
"At night when I am trying to sleep I think about how I have somehow managed to fuck everything up in my life. My friendships. My schooling. My relationship. The thing I had going with Isak…"
"Okay. But messing up is part of growing up. The question is how are you going to fix it?"
-:-:-:-
Friday, 18th November 2016
13.59
I stop by the gym and spot Isak in basketball training. I have seen enough snippets of their training to recognise this as a defensive drill. His team has been split into offensive and defensive halves.
Isak is in a defensive pose; his body tense and low between the person he is guarding and the ball which is in the hands of the opposing team's point guard. He is quick, responding to every effort his opponent makes to break free. For a non contact sport, the dude he is guarding is pretty damn handsy. I narrow my gaze on his face and hands as his paws at Isak.
He wants to watch himself. Is there a reason why the coach isn't calling foul?
Isak intercepts a pass and makes a break for the opposite hoop, dribbling efficiently down the court and hitting a layup. The ball swooshes through the basket.
"Isak! Stop showing off!" His coach shouts. "Stick to defence, yeah?!"
Isak rubs his sweaty brow and dribbles the ball back. "Yes, coach."
"I can see you're trying to work some tension off but keep it together, boy."
"Yes, coach."
I am not going to get anywhere if I try to talk to him while he is running on adrenaline, anger and frustration so I change my plan.
Sorry Mathias, I have been acting on other people's well meaning advice when I should have been going with my own. I can make my own decisions. I can do things my way.
I go to the changing room and recognise Isak's jacket straight away. I stuff my face into its soft material and inhale (I can't help it). Then I tuck the drawing I was going to give him in the pocket.