Mimi
"Roger, where are we going?"
"If I tell you, it won't be much of a surprise, will it?" he replied, teasingly. "Keep your eyes closed, and just walk with me."
He held my good hand in his, and slowly I walked forward with my eyes shut, wondering what he could possibly be up to.
"Okay, you've got to step over something right here, hold onto my arm and just stick your foot out."
"Roger."
"Just trust me," he insisted.
"You're going to like this."
Even those I couldn't see him, I knew he was smiling. I stuck out my
leg as he had instructed and stepped over whatever it was in front of
me. It was when
I felt the cool night air on my face, and heard the clanging
noises are feet were making on the ground, that I began to get
scared.
"Shit, Roger, we're on the fire escape, aren't we?"
"You'll see," he said in a playful voice, holding his arms around my waist protectively.
"There's a few steps in front of you, so just start walking slowly. I'm right here next to you, you're fine."
Was he insane? We were on the fire escape, and I was wandering around with my eyes closed!
"Roger," I whispered, grasping for his hand, "Are you DRUNK?"
He laughed. "C'mon Meems, we're almost there."
My feet were glued to the rusty metal floor of the fire escape. Finally, Roger picked me up in his arms and carried me the rest of the way up.
"Okay," he said, setting me down on the ground. "Open your eyes."
Slowly, my eyelids opened. We were on the rooftop of my apartment, where Roger had a red and white checkered picnic blanket spread out on the cold granite, and Roger's fender guitar was laid on the ground beside it.
I gaped at what I saw. I'd never known Roger to be such a romantic. He clearly noticed my surprise.
"I know it doesn't seem like something I would usually think up," he
said, embarrassed. "But I felt I had to find a way to make up for what
happened," he said, gesturing at my cast. "But it was the first thing
that came to mind, so I just sort of whipped all this out from my
closet."
"You had that your closet?" I asked, amused.
He blushed. "Well actually, that blanket it the one Maureen used as a cape for her Animals Rights protest.but that candle lit over there, that's the one you were holding when we first met."
I followed his gaze, and sure enough, there was that short stubby white candle that I had 'blown out' when I'd first met him.
"Do you like it?" he asked eagerly.
I shook my head, laughing. "Roger, I don't like it- I LOVE it." I stood on tip toes to give him a peck on the cheek.
We sat down on the blanket, where Roger picked up his guitar and started playing songs at random.
I watched him silently, as his lower lip curved as he tried to find the right note.
"Mimi," he said suddenly, putting the guitar down.
"Why did you have the stash in your hand?"
I had known this was coming.
"I'm not sure," I admitted.
"Once you start doing that kind of stuff, you get a certain feeling of power out of it. That morning, when I woke up.I felt a need for that feeling, Rodge. I felt like if I didn't at least hold it, I would just waste away. I can't explain it, there aren't words to describe what made me do it."
"I understand," Roger said quietly.
I looked up into his face. "You do?"
"When I was with April, she did that sort of stuff too. I remember how badly she would crave the stuff, but I'd always hide it from her, and throw it out when I could. She'd yell at me and say I was wasting her money and that if I loved her I would let her do what she wanted."
He sighed, and fiddled around with his guitar pick.
"She knew as well as I did that she was slowly killing herself, and I just didn't know how to deal with it. A few weeks later, she found out that we were HIV positive, and she killed herself."
He looked down into my eyes. "Mimi, when I saw you standing there, holding that stash so casually, it was like what I'd gone through with April all over again. I've managed to get over April, and live with my grief.but if I lost you, Mimi, I think it'd kill me."
I bit my lip, and held his hand in mine.
"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday.I just lost it when I saw you. I never meant to hurt you."
He traced his fingers over the cast on my wrist, which was bumpy and grainy from all the rhinestones and glitter Maureen had glued to it.
"I know," I whispered, resting my head against his shoulder. "I promised you that I would never do anything like that again, but Roger.It's hard."
"You can do it," he said firmly. "I'll help you."
He kissed me gently on the lips. He pushed a strand of hair back behind my ear, and soon I was all but oblivious to everything except the roar of the traffic below us, and Roger whispering in my ear.
"Roger, where are we going?"
"If I tell you, it won't be much of a surprise, will it?" he replied, teasingly. "Keep your eyes closed, and just walk with me."
He held my good hand in his, and slowly I walked forward with my eyes shut, wondering what he could possibly be up to.
"Okay, you've got to step over something right here, hold onto my arm and just stick your foot out."
"Roger."
"Just trust me," he insisted.
"You're going to like this."
Even those I couldn't see him, I knew he was smiling. I stuck out my
leg as he had instructed and stepped over whatever it was in front of
me. It was when
I felt the cool night air on my face, and heard the clanging
noises are feet were making on the ground, that I began to get
scared.
"Shit, Roger, we're on the fire escape, aren't we?"
"You'll see," he said in a playful voice, holding his arms around my waist protectively.
"There's a few steps in front of you, so just start walking slowly. I'm right here next to you, you're fine."
Was he insane? We were on the fire escape, and I was wandering around with my eyes closed!
"Roger," I whispered, grasping for his hand, "Are you DRUNK?"
He laughed. "C'mon Meems, we're almost there."
My feet were glued to the rusty metal floor of the fire escape. Finally, Roger picked me up in his arms and carried me the rest of the way up.
"Okay," he said, setting me down on the ground. "Open your eyes."
Slowly, my eyelids opened. We were on the rooftop of my apartment, where Roger had a red and white checkered picnic blanket spread out on the cold granite, and Roger's fender guitar was laid on the ground beside it.
I gaped at what I saw. I'd never known Roger to be such a romantic. He clearly noticed my surprise.
"I know it doesn't seem like something I would usually think up," he
said, embarrassed. "But I felt I had to find a way to make up for what
happened," he said, gesturing at my cast. "But it was the first thing
that came to mind, so I just sort of whipped all this out from my
closet."
"You had that your closet?" I asked, amused.
He blushed. "Well actually, that blanket it the one Maureen used as a cape for her Animals Rights protest.but that candle lit over there, that's the one you were holding when we first met."
I followed his gaze, and sure enough, there was that short stubby white candle that I had 'blown out' when I'd first met him.
"Do you like it?" he asked eagerly.
I shook my head, laughing. "Roger, I don't like it- I LOVE it." I stood on tip toes to give him a peck on the cheek.
We sat down on the blanket, where Roger picked up his guitar and started playing songs at random.
I watched him silently, as his lower lip curved as he tried to find the right note.
"Mimi," he said suddenly, putting the guitar down.
"Why did you have the stash in your hand?"
I had known this was coming.
"I'm not sure," I admitted.
"Once you start doing that kind of stuff, you get a certain feeling of power out of it. That morning, when I woke up.I felt a need for that feeling, Rodge. I felt like if I didn't at least hold it, I would just waste away. I can't explain it, there aren't words to describe what made me do it."
"I understand," Roger said quietly.
I looked up into his face. "You do?"
"When I was with April, she did that sort of stuff too. I remember how badly she would crave the stuff, but I'd always hide it from her, and throw it out when I could. She'd yell at me and say I was wasting her money and that if I loved her I would let her do what she wanted."
He sighed, and fiddled around with his guitar pick.
"She knew as well as I did that she was slowly killing herself, and I just didn't know how to deal with it. A few weeks later, she found out that we were HIV positive, and she killed herself."
He looked down into my eyes. "Mimi, when I saw you standing there, holding that stash so casually, it was like what I'd gone through with April all over again. I've managed to get over April, and live with my grief.but if I lost you, Mimi, I think it'd kill me."
I bit my lip, and held his hand in mine.
"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday.I just lost it when I saw you. I never meant to hurt you."
He traced his fingers over the cast on my wrist, which was bumpy and grainy from all the rhinestones and glitter Maureen had glued to it.
"I know," I whispered, resting my head against his shoulder. "I promised you that I would never do anything like that again, but Roger.It's hard."
"You can do it," he said firmly. "I'll help you."
He kissed me gently on the lips. He pushed a strand of hair back behind my ear, and soon I was all but oblivious to everything except the roar of the traffic below us, and Roger whispering in my ear.
