August 1st

The electricity and hot water got turned back on today. I saved up whatever money I could that wasn't going towards food or Roger's medicine and wrote Benny a letter, explaining the situation and hoping that this money could turn the electricity and hot water back on until September, and then I'd send more cash. It was a really heartwarming letter; I spent a few good afternoons at Central Park working on it, since I've been working a lot of late nights recently, so I'm happy he ended up listening to me.

Those days at Central Park were also good excuses to go looking for Joanne, but I haven't seen her and she still hasn't called. Or at least I haven't been home if she has. The day I met her, I stopped on my way home to see if someone could come repair our telephone which darling Roger ripped off of the wall last month. We haven't thought to have it fixed because we've been communicating with Collins through letters, not communicating with Benny, save for the letter I just wrote, and on those rare occasions where I call my parents I've been going to a pay phone, which is a great excuse to not talk to them for very long. But a repairman came and fixed the phone and also gave us a great deal on a cordless phone (see what a little flirting can do? He installed an extra phone jack in the wall for me!), which I've installed in mine and Mark's room. We still have the old wall phone in the kitchen but now we have an extra phone, which is nice.

Not like it really matters, though. We screen our calls. Once we had the phone working again, it rang and I ran and grabbed it, hoping it was Joanne. It was Mrs. Cohen, wondering why Mark hadn't been returning her calls and why her calls wouldn't even connect to the answering machine and how lucky we were that she didn't call the police or anything to make sure we were still alive. Needless to say, I reminded myself after that call that I need to screen, too.

Earlier this morning, Roger had another fit from his withdrawals. Mark and I were just saying a few days ago how much better he's getting, but this morning he really freaked us out. I honestly thought that he was having a seizure. He was writhing around in his bed, making strangled noises from the back of his throat and pulling at his arms where all of his track marks are. It was really scary, and Mark and I really weren't sure what to do. We had no way of transporting him to the emergency room and I came pretty close to calling 911, but Roger ended up calming down after about fifteen minutes. He got really sick after, though, and he's spent the majority of the day in the bathroom, throwing up. As much as I hate to see Mark lavish attention on anyone but me, it's kind of cute the way he rubs Roger's back and sits with him in the bathroom while he's vomiting up blood because he doesn't eat anything. I even was in a good enough mood to tell Mark that I'd go get us all something decent to eat, but Roger told me not to go because he wouldn't eat it anyways. I worry about him, despite everything. I would never wish death on another person, even if they were as much of an asshole to me as Roger.

Collins also called a little while ago, since I called him and left him a message a few days ago that the phone was fixed. We mostly communicate through letters because he sends cash, and you can't do that through the phone. He says he might try to get back up here for Thanksgiving break, which would be amazing. I miss him more and more, as Roger gets sicker and Mark leaves me more. I feel so lonely all the time now.

Work has been fine, the only real problem I've been having is that I've been working so many nights. I'd personally rather work days and play at night, but I haven't had that luxury for the past week or so. Luckily, I think my schedule is going to be changed back to me working more mornings, which is easier for me because Mark and Roger sleep late and won't be waking up until I get home to take care of them. Or until I get home to "take care" (translation: jump on to him in bed and have a good ten minute makeout session so he gets his lazy ass out of bed) of Mark and Mark takes care of Roger. It's a transitive thing.

I feel like August has come so quickly. I mean, April will have been dead two months soon. It's so hard. So much has happened here in just two short months. I just wish everything could go back to normal. Normal meaning Roger isn't scaring Mark and I by convulsing from drug withdrawals. April would be alive and happy and thus, Roger would be happy. Mark and I would be having more sex. Mark and Roger wouldn't feel like they had to be together to feel the void in their lives.

I really do think that's what it is. And it's odd for me to actually acknowledge that I've figured it out. Mark and Roger are both singular entities who are so afraid of being alone, yet they try to isolate themselves from other people and cause their loneliness. Yeah, I know I sound like I'm full of shit, I mean, what could I possibly know about people? But I took a psychology class in high school and my parents said they would've paid for college, had I gone for psychology as I once intended, so I have a vague knowledge on how to understand people. I learned in that class that I want attention from people because I feel lonely unless all eyes are on me. I can acknowledge that and I came to terms with it back in high school. Mark and Roger are not coming to terms with the fact that they need each other much more than they pretend to. Roger is stubborn and probably won't ever admit to it. Mark is more likely to, but he won't. Mark can be too numb of a person to really understand himself, let alone the people around him. That's why Mark has the camera. Mark's camera enables him to numb himself from what's really going on.

That's why I couldn't have been a psychiatrist. Psychiatry is when you get paid to listen to people tell you why they are the way they are but they can't accept who they are anywhere except in that little office. That drives me crazy. People can admit who they really are to complete strangers but not to the people who it will matter most to. Psychiatryis robbery. Just taking people's money in exchange for letting them be honest with themselves.

I'm pretty sure Mark and Roger fell asleep in Roger's bed, so I think I'm gonna head out and pick up some groceries and maybe some more AZT for Roger. Last I checked the bottle on the counter, there were only a few pills left.

Later…

Okay. Possibly the weirdest thing ever just happened at work. But I'll fill you in on the rest of the day first.

Went to the grocery store and got some food for the loft. Had an AZT prescription filled under my name because I get minimal health benefits from work so the AZT is cheaper. Brought all of that home and found that the boys were still asleep in Roger's bed together. And I'm the bisexual one. Anyways, left them a Post-It note telling them I was working three to nine and left for work.

Work was going fine, completely normal, nothing special, until around eight forty-five, just as I was starting to anticipate leaving. I come out of the kitchen and see our "host" (meaning he's dropped plates too many times to be a waiter so he seats people now) Joe putting a table setting down at the small table in the corner. Seated at the table is, and this is where my heart jumped into my throat, of ALL people to be at the Life, Joanne.

No. I'm being completely serious. Joanne, the incredibly attractive brown sugar really good job woman I had met in Central Park about a week ago was at my place of employment. And, as if fate didn't love me anymore, she was sitting in MY section. The only person sitting in my section.

After I sufficiently finished thanking whatever God there is, I sauntered over to the table. Joanne was studying the menu and shaking her head, looking quite displeased. I didn't really blame her. "Hi, welcome to the Life Café, my name is Maureen and I'll be your waitress for this evening." She looked up and stared, mouth slightly agape. "Could I start you off with a drink?"

"Mo…Maureen," Joanne managed to stutter out. "I am SO sorry I haven't called, I've been so busy, working on a big case…"

"Joanne! It's great to see you," I said, trying not to sound too upset that she hadn't called me and showing her that I was still interested. I had to do something drastic if I wanted this to progress at all, it didn't seem like Joanne was going to do anything more than she already had. "Listen, the food here is fine, but I get off my shift in," a glance at my watch told me it was eight fifty-two, "eight minutes. Would you be interested in going to get a bite to eat with me somewhere else?" I flashed her one of my charming smiles. I was going to give up completely if she said no.

Luckily, I didn't have to give up. Joanne got a water and we left at the end of my shift, heading down the street to a small Starbucks. I'm usually not one for supporting a yuppie coffee company like that, but I was with Joanne and not about to complain. We had coffee (cocoa for me, I'm not much of a coffee drinker, especially at nine at night) and chatted about life, my job at the Life, and Joanne's job at the law firm and were generally having a really nice time before Joanne looked down at that really nice silver plated watch she has and exclaimed, "Ten minutes before midnight! Are you kidding me? I still have to go home and do some filing before I go to bed and I have an eight A.M. meeting tomorrow!"

Shit, I thought to myself. Mark is probably wondering where the fuck I am. Or he's sleeping with Roger. For once, the second one would be ideal. "I'm so sorry that I kept you this long, Joanne," I said sincerely. I felt bad she was going to be up late and had to get up early in the morning.

"No! It's not your fault, I should've kept track of time. Besides," she added, smiling, "I had a great time with you."

"As did I," I said.

"I think I need to do this more often," Joanne said, sighing. "You're a very interesting person, Maureen. You live a very carefree and spontaneous life. I sometimes wish I could do that."

Carefree? I thought. I work and take care of my boyfriend and his recovering junkie AIDS best friend and I live a carefree life? I brushed it off, not ready to lose her because I wanted to bitch. "Well I admire that you work so hard. And we definitely should do this again. You have my number and now you know where I work. You know where to find me."

I gave Joanne a friendly hug that lasted a little longer than friendly before we parted ways, her to the subway and me up the street a bit back to the loft. I tried to come in as quietly as I could, and shut the door behind me gently, leaning against it and breathing a sigh of relief. That is, until Mark turned the light on and revealed that he was sitting on the couch with his camera.

"Twelve-fifteen A.M., August 2nd, Maureen enters stage left from a job that ended a little more than three hours ago. Her devoted boyfriend wonders where she was. Will she answer?" Mark asks, before lowering the camera and staring at me.

I came over to him on the couch, put my face in the camera, and said, "No comment. It's more mysterious if I leave it up to you to decide." I kissed Mark on the forehead and turned to walk through the kitchen to our room and I heard the camera click off and Mark's steps behind me.

"Maureen," he said, firmly placing his hand on my shoulder. "Where the hell were you? I was worried sick."

"Jesus Mark, calm the fuck down," I said. "I ended up having to work a little later than anticipated." Thank goodness I'm a good liar.

"And you couldn't have called?" he asked. Shit.

"It was really busy." Not as good of a lie.

"Whatever." Mark said, looking unconvinced. "I think I'm gonna stay on the couch tonight."

"Do whatever you want," I said, coldly, before walking into our room, shutting the door, and throwing myself on the bed, crying.

I've never, in my life, hated myself for lying until I lied to Mark tonight.

I don't know what I'm doing anymore.