New York State of Mind
The next morning when I woke up my whole body hurt. I had been crying all night and my feelings had only gotten worse, I had not calmed down at all. Then I had a sudden burst of hope; today was a new day after all…maybe Erik had forgiven me! Or maybe he would listen to me now.
I ran to his door still wearing the clothes I had been the day before. I rapped on his door and called out his name, but it was all in vain because Erik was not there. He had left early, not wanting to risk seeing me, because if he saw me he was afraid he would fall to pieces completely. I finally had to give up and I trudged back to my apartment. Sammy seemed to realize that something was wrong; he came and licked my hand in an attempt to make me feel better; I wished it worked.
Erik was already on his way to his office; he had never felt so alone and foolish in his life. He had been building up an idea in his head; that in this new world he could flourish and be loved and be a member of society. Now he felt that had all been false, and that he had been a fool for believing in himself and a new life; the same thing had happened to him all over again.
Broken, Erik slowly walked to his office. He hardly knew what he was doing there or how, just the day before, he had thought he belonged here. He wondered how he had moved around in society without concern, how could he have begun not to care what people thought when he walked by? Now he just wanted to hide.
It was a dark day outside, and when Erik reached his office the curtains were still drawn. He sat in the dark room and let his feelings of hopelessness and despair wash over him. He snorted mockingly at himself; he was crying in darkness again.
I forced myself to change clothes in an attempt to look like a real human being and not the crushed piece of gum on the bottom of a Manolo Blahnik shoe I felt like.
At work it was all I could think about, and I was determined to speak to Erik over lunch.
Erik was still shaking in his office when Karen Hegel, the secretary Erik had met on his fist interview, passed by. Karen had always had a little thing for Erik; she found his slight accent and his tall frame as sexy as I had. Up until this point however, she had been aware that the rich man of her fantasy had been in a relationship with me. She eyed Erik through the glass of his office slyly; she surmised that we were over.
She knocked lightly on the door, "Erik?" she had spoken to him before and he had insisted she use his first name, "May I come in?"
"I don't think so…" Erik said but then he looked up and saw that she was already in his office; she switched on his desk light and sat in the chair in front of his desk. Erik quickly tried to compose himself, but Karen Hegel knew he had been crying.
"What do you need?" he asked in a business like tone,
"Nothing, you just seem upset…do you want to talk about something?" she spoke sweetly,
"No" he answered gruffly,
"Did you break up with…what was her name?" Karen urged with an understanding smile,
"Olivia…and yes, yes I did," He felt his voice shake,
"Why?" Karen would not stop until she made him cry again, and then she could embrace him in the sprit of helping,
"She…I found her kissing her ex," Erik blurted out; feeling that saying it maybe would make him feel better. It did not however, and he began to tear again. Karen moved to his side of the desk and put her arms around him. In truth, she had been waiting out this relationship like most people waited out store items until they went on sale. She had known we would not last forever; no one ever did. So, she had positioned herself deftly, befriending Erik, which had been hard at first but then she had won out, and now she was swooping in for the kill.
"I am so sorry," Karen whispered, and Erik, who needed a friend more than anything else, allowed himself to lean on her shoulder.
I tried to call his office a hundred times before lunch, but none of my calls would go through. Erik ignored them. I went to his office at lunch, but I was not even allowed to go up to his office. I was not aware of it, but Karen Hegel had her mind on my rich, well dressed architect and basically secretary black listed me. She made damn sure no one would let me up into the building. They said I needed someone to say it was alright for me to come up, and as Erik would not answer my phone calls, I had no way of seeing him.
In complete despair I returned to my office. I felt like screaming; all that had happened had been so wrong, so unfair. Why had Erik come home at that exact moment, why not a moment later or a second earlier? Than we would still be together. Then I would not feel like screaming until my lungs burst.
Since I had met Erik, I had felt something I had never through I would feel. My love for him had seemed so right, so ideal; I did not understand the idea of it being over. I could not accept that it was over. I wouldn't. I loved him, how could he leave me? How could this be over? We had been on the verge of getting married; he wouldn't leave me over this. I tried to assure myself over and over; he would not leave me, he would be mad for awhile but then he would come back to me.
Erik was thinking of no such thing. He never wanted to see me again. He loved me, but he did not believe he could stand to be with someone who had hurt him so badly. Erik, having now felt searing, heart breaking pain twice in his life, realized that what was best for him was to distance himself from what hurt him. There would be no more love in his life, because the end was too painful.
Determined, I waited for Erik at the entrance of his office. I figured that he had to come out sometime. Eventually, I realized that he was working late, and that it would be a long time before he came out. However, the pain in my heart was greater than the nipping cold that was making me tremble.
So I waited. I waited as the sky grew darker and darker and the wind picked up. I sat on a bench and shivered, afraid to leave the door for even a moment in case that was the moment Erik picked to leave.
At ten thirty, I was beginning to realize what a fooling thing I was doing, but then Erik came out. He did not notice me until I was right next to him.
"Erik?" I wrapped my arms around myself as I stared at him,
He looked at me with cold eyes; he wanted to erase everything he had with me, because then he could pretend that he did not hurt so badly, "What in hell are you doing here?" he asked,
"I was waiting for you,"
"Don't you finish work at seven thirty?"
"Yes,"
Erik stared at me, "You are freezing,"
"Well I needed to speak to you, and you would not return my calls and I could not get into you office, so I waited," I confessed hopelessly,
"You could have waited at your apartment," he was right and I was stupid and freezing for no reason,
"Well, I didn't think of that,"
"Obviously,"
"Erik," I pleaded, it was painful to hear him talk to me with such cold bitterness in his voice, "I don't think you understand; Mark kissed me, I wanted him to stop!"
"Olivia, I understand, go back to him, I don't want to force you to do anything," he stepped up to the curb and waved down a cab,
"I don't want to go back to him! I want to go back to you!" I grabbed his arm with my white fingers and held onto him,
A cab pulled up and Erik opened the door and got in; I got in after him, "You can't come back to me Olivia," Erik said softly,
"Why not?" I was almost in tears again,
"Because you destroyed me!" he yelled, suddenly furious, "I trusted you! And I find you kissing another man! You broke my heart!"
"Erik, I didn't mean to! I didn't want to kiss Mark!" I started to cry again,
Erik sighed; his head was still swimming with hurt, and he could not handle it right now, "Your cold, and your shaking," was all he said, and he wrapped his arm around me, bringing me to his chest where I cried all the way home. But I thought it was a good thing. Physically we were together, though emotionally we were miles apart.
When we got home however he stopped touching me. He refused to speak and he went straight to his door. As hard as I tried, he would not listen to me. He kept kicking himself; Christine had left him and now I had cheated on him in his mind. He kept telling himself that he should have known better.
I got back to my apartment and found I was still shaking; not from cold but from sadness. I picked up the roses from the floor and smelled them. They smelled beautiful, and they looked beautiful to. I put them in a vase on the kitchen table. I decided that I would keep them forever.
Over the next week, Erik continued to outmaneuver me and managed to never see me in the hallway. He came and went like a ghost and I never got the chance to speak to him face to face. He would not return my phone calls either.
From the man I had just run into one morning to the man he had come to mean to me, I had thought Erik was different. I loved him because he was different, and because he was smart and polite and funny and everything I had ever wanted. And now he was one more thing, he was gone.
Just as quickly as he had come into my life he had vanished. I couldn't talk to him, I never saw him; he never even came to check on the dog. Sammy missed him as much as I did.
"Sweetie, you have to get over him; it's been a week," Rebecca told me; the girls had come over to my house to perform an intervention; I was turning into a recluse,
"I wish it was that easy," I said, sipping the wine my friends had brought over to help to cheer me up,
"It is that easy; you loved, and then he turned out to be a creep just like the rest of the men in New York," Jackie said,
"Yeah, but he was my creep," I sighed,
"It's okay! You dated for half a year! It will take half that time to get over him," Susan put in her doctor dating diagnosis,
"I'm sorry, am I trying to get over a relationship or an algorithm?" I asked sarcastically,
"Come on, we're going out," Rebecca pulled me to the door, "We are not going to let you turn into a hermit,"
"Oh is that what I am?" I reluctantly let them drag me out to the latest fabulous restaurant, even through I felt nothing but. It was crowded and loud and I hated every minute of it. However, my friends were having a good time and I felt my sprits begin to lift as the dinner progressed. However, the minute I remember I was not going home to Erik, I sank back into a depression.
Little did I know, but Erik was in the same very restaurant; only in New York. Karen Hegel had finally talked him into going out with her; not as a date, but as friends. She claimed she just wanted him to have a good time and forget about his pain for awhile, but what she was doing was cunningly pulling him to her side. She knew he had no one else, and if she acted quickly, she could fill the void I had left in his heart.
They sat in a corner table in a more secluded part of the restaurant. Erik had requested this; ever since I had managed to shatter all his confidence, along with his heart, he had been much more reluctant to be seen in public, and though going out to a restaurant was defiantly very public, Erik felt sick to his stomach and he did not think he had the guts left to stand up to anyone, should they comment on his face.
However, Karen Hegel quickly realized that her romantic dinner with Erik would be anything but. Erik drank; he drank to forget and he drank to gain the confidence to stay in the public eye. By the end of dinner, he was a mess. Karen, embarrassed and perturbed, half carried him out of the restaurant, which was difficult given his height. I missed this scene however; the girls and I had left a moment before and gone to a late movie. A movie I did not watch; I cried instead.
Karen Hegel was faced with a problem, she did not know where Erik lived and he was in no condition to tell her. So, she did the only remaining thing she could; she brought him back to her place. He promptly vomited for half an hour once they reached her modest apartment. Karen sighed; she plans had been wrecked; she had not counted on his heartbreak being so strong.
Her plans of winning him over and living happily ever after in a house he built were quickly deteriorating. The sick truth was, Karen was not in love with Erik, she refused to fall in love with anyone. She just saw him as a man who would be able to support her, and who could be a companion to her. This was her view of the fairy tale ending; security. Not love, but good enough. This was her New York state of mind.
When Erik came out of the bathroom, he stared stonily at Karen,
"I am very sorry Karen," he said in his deep, beautiful voice, "I lost control, I am not a very good time, I will leave you know, again I apologize for my actions," with this formal speech he made to leave,
"Erik, it's nearly four in the morning! And it's freezing out! You should stay here," Karen, re enthused with Erik after this kind apology, began to see her fairy tale man again, "I have something you could wear, and a bed,"
In truth Erik felt exhausted and all he really wanted was to fall into bed and sleep. And so, he agreed. Karen gave him something one of her old boyfriends had left to put on and showed him to her bed. Awkwardly Erik stared at it,
"I could really sleep on the couch," he said,
"Oh come on! We are both adults, we can sleep together without sleeping together," Karen said in a matter of fact voice,
Reluctantly, Erik climbed into the bed. The moment his head touched the pillow however, he was out like a light. Karen on the other hand tried her hand at being seductive. She lightly touched his back, and she slid up to his back, but it was all to no avail because Erik was asleep and he was dreaming of me.
He dreamt we were together again, and that he had taken me to Paris and we were watching the sun rise over the city. So many times, Erik had wondered the dark streets of Paris at night. He walked during a time when the only other people out on the streets were those of bad intentions or less than reputable ones at least. But then, as dawn approached and he knew that soon he would be vanquished again to his underground dungeon, he would pass one certain hotel in Paris. It had a grand balcony, and lovers used to stand, shaking in the chill pre morning air, and wait to watch the sun rise.
So many times he had wished he could be a part of all of that; to be in love and happy and be able to see and appreciate, and stand in, the glory of the morning sun. Once he had stood on the top of the opera house and watched at the sun came up. However, the streaks of color which had cut the sky had meant nothing to him. They might as well have been shades of gray.
In New York, when he had first met me and then stayed up to watch the coming of the sun, he had thought he had almost seen what all the fuss was about. He was sure that had we ever watched it together he would have understood. However, he now felt that was not meant to be. He had been close to the light, but then it had turned away. In his dream, just as the brilliant yellow sun began to appear, it faded to gray and Erik suddenly found himself alone in his underground prison once again.
When he woke up, he found he was not underground at all; he was in a strange bed, laying next to a person he hardly knew. True to fall, the sky outside was gray and raining. As Erik blinked in the grayish morning light and stared at Karen Hegel's still form, he realized that maybe some people were not meant to see the sunlight. Maybe for some people, love was not the answer. He supposed, to protect himself, he should settle for something else. Something like love, but not quite. Erik had begun to develop it to, the cynical New York state of mind.
I woke up to the same gray morning. I walked aimlessly around my apartment; the roses on my table were beginning to wilt, but I did not want to throw them away or pick up any of the dying petals which had fallen on the table.
To me, anything less than love was not anything I wanted. Some how, Erik and I had switched places. He was not longer the romantic, and I was no loner the cynic. I could not believe anything else accept that he would somehow come back to me, because we were meant to be. He had given up; nothing was meant to happen and no one was happy.
I lit my cigarette and started on my work. An hour later, Erik began the walk of shame home from Karen Hegel's apartment. We were miles apart, but as a newly converted believer in romance and fate, I believed that anything could happen. After all, this was New York.