Author's note: Please review! I really want to know what you guys think! (You better or I might not update...)
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Great. Just great—where am I supposed to live now? Angel's funeral, and Joanne had to make it all about her. Meanwhile, Mimi did the same thing with Roger—but she was with the yuppie scum. At least Joanne doesn't have someone new yet… Of course, Joanne and I had already broken up, but we were somehow managing to live together—mostly since she was at work all day, and wouldn't come back until I had already fallen asleep. We rarely spoke, and I barely saw her, Hell, I wasn't even awake when she left in the morning. I had to sleep on a spare mattress in a spare room, and I could tell that she was close to kicking me out because of the mess I made, and my lack of contribution to the rent. I hadn't thought we were on such bad terms—that maybe I had just needed to wait for her anger to blow over, and then we would be okay again, like every other time that we had fought. After what she did today…I don't know if I can stand to live their…but I have nowhere else to go. At least Roger wasn't living with Mimi— speaking of which, I couldn't very well move back in with the boys. Either Mark or Mimi would surely have me slaughtered. But Mimi's living with Benny… Well, Mark wouldn't actively kill me, but his disappointment in what he presumed to be true would kill me, especially because keeping secrets wasn't my forte. Maybe Joanne and I can get back together? Maybe she'll let me stay? Maybe I could convince the boys to let me stay…great. I haven't even left the cemetery, and I have no idea where I am going to live. This has been a good day…I started fingering the razorblade in my pocket, as I started to wander away from the rest of the group, going unnoticed as Mark and Benny were still attempting to curb Joanne and Mimi's rage, and Collins was pleading with him to respect his need for peace. Poor Collins…Joanne is such a bitch. I never should have brought her into this group…it's my fault. Roger was apologizing to Collins, trying to console him, and they started to look back on better times. Roger is such a good friend—I can't believe that he has known Collins for practically his whole life…like I've known Roger. But nobody can rely on me. I can't rely on anybody else, either. I'm being selfish—this is Angel's day…I can't do anything right.
"MAUREEN!" It was Joanne. I blinked, realizing that I was collapsed behind an enormous monument to some forgotten person, sobbing, my jacket thrown carelessly on the ground, my arms a mess of random, angry cuts of various lengths and depths, the actual slits obscured by bleeding almost as steady as my tears. Nothing life-threatening. I know how to deal with these. Nothing new. But she never knew about this… "Honeybear…are you okay?" Her voice grew softer, cooing almost. She reached out to touch my arms, but I pulled back, turning my back to her. "MAUREEN! Look at me." Her voice was firm again, commanding. I turned around, looking her angrily in the eyes.
"What do you want from me? This is Angel's day. It was hard enough without all of this shit about Roger and I. You don't even know the truth…" She smirked, but then thought the better of it, her eyes curious, wanting to trust me. The only thing I can do to redeem myself is to tell the truth…but that would be bad. Who knows how she will take it? What if she still thinks that I fucked him? What about Mimi? Roger doesn't want to tell her…the fewer people who know, the better.
"Well? Either tell me or I'm gone." She wasn't going to give up. I searched for a tissue in my coat pocket, knowing I had some, given that we were going to a funeral. Upon finding the package, I liberated one and began to swipe at my arm, and muttered the story under my breath, my eyes fixed on the ground, the tears blurring my vision and making the task of cleaning myself up even more difficult. I told her all about the visits that I made to Hicksville, that we had taken Elsie to see Angel…she withdrew into her own head, becoming very quiet, not what I would have expected from her. She moved closer to me, taking another tissue from the package, and tenderly wiping some excess blood off of my left arm, trying to get the bleeding to stop. After several minutes, she pulled me into her, and I buried my face in her chest.
"Joanne I'm so sorry…I'm sorry…I should have told you…but I was scared…but that was stupid…I should have trusted you. I'm the unfaithful one, the one to overreact. You would've probably taken it well…I don't know…."
"Shh, honey, it's my fault. I didn't trust you. And my temper scared you. It's okay. We're okay."
"You…can't…tell…Mimi. Roger…has to…when the time…is right." She rubbed my back reassuringly, and I pulled myself together. As we left the cemetery, we saw that the others had already gone, except for Collins, who was standing before the fresh pile of dirt, her grave. I hugged him, not able to comprehend the depth of his loss, but feeling truly empathetic. I apologized, but Joanne interjected, taking the blame for her actions. He smiled weakly, and I kissed him on the cheek, hugging him tightly once more, telling him not to stay for too long. Joanne threw her arm around my shoulders and we trudged towards her car, the depth of our loss once again sinking in. We couldn't be truly happy for the peace that we had just made, given the circumstances.
When we got home, drained from the depth of the events of the day, the painful loss we had endured, and all of the things that we still had to sort out…we collapsed into the bed, holding each other tightly, grateful just to have each other. The ringing of my cell phone, which, thankfully, hadn't disturbed my sleeping lover, rudely awakened me. Groggily, I shuffled over to my purse, which I had thrown on the floor.
"Hello?" My voice was raspy, tired. I sat gently on the edge of the bed.
"It's me." Roger. I could tell that he was distraught, but I couldn't tell why. Probably Mimi…
"Honey, what's wrong?" I heard a sob escape from his body, and longed to be with him, to comfort him.
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"Honey, what's wrong?" What's wrong? I'm driving to Santa Fe. I'm running away. I want her to hold me. I miss her. I miss Elsie. I think I miss Mimi. I miss Angel. I don't know what I want. I'm alone—like Mark, but physically distanced as well. "Roger? Are you okay?" The concern in her voice was growing as she came into full consciousness, comprehending. Probably remembering that I'm gone. It's so good just to hear her voice…
"Yeah." My voice was sharp, coarse, my breathing ragged.
"Did you use…?"
"Yeah." This started a fresh wave of tears, and I felt like a girl. It would be so much easier if I had just…
"Where are you?" I looked around, realizing that I had no idea, beyond the fact that I was at some gas station in some state, on a payphone, paid for with spare change found in the glove box of the cheap car that I had bought with the money from my Fender…my baby. I didn't have much money left…I shouldn't have wasted it on smack.
"On the road…somewhere…I wish you were here…oh God, Mo…I feel like shit. I just…needed you." I sighed, cursing myself for having run away from her the first time.
"Oh…honey…I don't know what to say…I wish I were with you…I'm sorry."
"What're you sorry for?"
"I don't know. It just sounded right." I laughed, longing to look into her eyes.
"Mo?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry. I can't stop thinking about you. I don't know why I called you. Go back to sleep." There were so many things that I longed to say, that I loved her…that I needed her. But I held my tongue.
"When will I hear from you again? Will you come back? Rog?"
"Goodbye, Maureen. Take care of Els."
"Roger! Wai-" I hung up, not able to listen to her pleading, needing to get away from her, my thoughts of her. Think about Mimi. What're you going to do about her? Don't you love her? You're upset that she left you for Benny, but she's dying. You're dying. You deserve each other. You need to be with her. It's only fair that you are together. It wouldn't be fair to Maureen and Elsie to be with them. God! Stop thinking about Maureen!
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It had been thirty days since he left, since he called me. I hadn't heard from him since. Why did he leave? Why is he in to Santa Fe? I need him back here. I need to sort things out. He needs to know that I love him. He needs to know that Elsie needs him. He needs to know that Joanne knows. He needs to be with Mimi—her days are limited. I dropped my head into my hands, and Joanne sat up in the bed.
"Maureen? What's wrong?" She pulled me further onto the bed, looking into my eyes. "It's Roger, isn't it?" I nodded, sighing. Our apartment phone began to ring, and Joanne went off to answer it in the other room. I heard distress in her voice, followed by a series of low whispers, which I couldn't understand from the bedroom. Oh God…what happened? She returned to the room in a daze, and I panicked. I hope nothing happened to Roger…why would I think it was about him? Nobody's even heard from him. "Honey…Mimi's gone missing."
"Oh God. Um…okay. God." I couldn't verbalize my emotions. How will we find Roger? "Let's go to the loft…"
"Mark probably needs help. Being alone was bad enough, and Benny had to spring this on him. Collins isn't even in town." I nodded, and we quickly dressed and left the apartment solemnly.
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I got off of the bus, unsure of how it felt to be back in Alphabet City. I trudged up to the loft, unannounced, passing by Mark, Maureen, Joanne, and Benny, who were sitting around in the living room area. I was too tired to notice the bizarre behavior—they were all quiet, solemn, and none of them seemed to have noticed my arrival. I went into my room and flopped onto the bed. I didn't know why I had come back, and whether it was because I had missed Mimi or Maureen. Where is Mimi? Santa Fe had left me feeling empty and alone, and I had realized what a foolish idea it was from the moment that I called Maureen, but I was attempting to make her life with Joanne go more smoothly. Every time I had tried to write a song about Mimi, prove to myself that I truly loved her, the song ended up being about Maureen, her eyes. I had finally gotten myself to a point where I realized that because I loved Maureen so much, I had to love Mimi. I had to be with her as she wasted away. She had to be my life so that I didn't ruin Maureen's. I did love Mimi—a lot. Don't get me wrong—if I had never met Maureen, Mimi would have been all that I could have ever possibly dreamed of in a woman. If I hadn't have had a daughter with Maureen, shared my whole life with her, if I had met them both simultaneously, I don't know whether I would be so enamored with Maureen or not. I had to push my longing for her out of my mind…it's for the greater good. There was a gentle knock on my door.
"Yeah?"
"It's me." Maureen. God, I've missed her so…
"Come in." She gently pushed the door open just enough so that she could pass through, and shut it quickly.
"How have you been?" A mess, trying to convince myself not to love you, that I am in love with Mimi. Trying to tell myself that breaking you heart is the only possible outcome, that I can't let you in because I will inevitably leave you…I didn't dare look into her eyes, because that would have been the end of me. Somehow she would've been able to see everything.
"Good. The time away put things in perspective." She looked at me skeptically, but didn't want to protest—not looking like she had the strength. She looked really exhausted.
"What have you been up to?" Her entire body tensed. "It's okay Mo, just tell me. It will be better to know." She knew that I was right and hung her head, beginning to mumble something. "Maureen," I said softly, "I can't understand what you're saying." She lifted her eyes to meet mine.
"Mimi's been missing for well over a month…we don't know where she is…we've looked." Tears started to spill over from my eyes, tears stemming from powerful emotion that I didn't know that I had felt for Mimi…wasn't sure if I did, or maybe it was just the shock? Or maybe it was because of the same reasons that everyone else was distraught—she was a member of our family, who could be dead and none of us would even know. How'd I let her slip away, too? The words to the song that I had written about Maureen's eyes flooded my mind, lyrics filing in, one line after the next. For each line, I realized there was not only my passion for Maureen, the inspiration for the song, but also my hidden regrets from my relationship with Mimi…
