Chapter Two: I'll Save You From Your Dreams
I wake up startled. Once again, I had dreamed about her – about us. For days, I have been reliving the moment when I left her. I can still see her face, glistening under the spotless Californian cerulean sky, and her tears, threatening to fall from her eyes at any second. I can still feel her shaking hand on my thigh, when we were sitting up there on the hill. Even today, I want to punch myself for choosing the worst day to break up with her. The sun was up high, shining on her and brightening her sad but still beautiful face, as if it wanted to remind me that I was an idiot for letting go of that marvelous girl. On another day, it would have been the perfect setting for a date, but as always, I turned something so radiant into something so gloomy.
Tonight, the dream was bizarre. Instead of perfectly re-enacting the break up as I normally do, I pictured her getting up abruptly after smirking at me. Instead of slowly getting on her feet, squeezing my left shoulder and kissing the top of my head, she left me without a word, almost as harshly as I left her. It is not some natural behavior coming from her and I guess unconsciously, it makes me realize something important. Something inside me just instantly clicks.
I shift uncomfortably in my bed. I have a tingling feeling down my stomach, the same feeling I get when I am inspired for a song. I look at my side; the alarm clock reads 2:19 in bright neon red. I look up at the ceiling before getting up swiftly and throwing the sheets on the floor.
I sit at my baby grand piano and hover my hands over the keys. I gaze out in front of me, where I still have the first picture of us together in a frame. Thinking back, I miss having her in my arms. I miss her smiling at me because I did something stupid. I miss her lips on mine when I felt bitter, like I am feeling now. I regret letting her go, and I regret allowing her to let me go.
I want to get something out of my guts, but no chord seems right. Nothing sounds like her. Maybe I have already written all the Loren-sounding songs that I could ever write, but I know that I have not. I know that she could forever be my muse and inspire my music, but at the moment, I cannot get anything sensible. I try writing lyrics first, but nothing seems to flow either. I sit on the couch, take the notebook she gave me for my twenty-second birthday, which is already full, and stare at it for a while. I flip through the pages, and looking at my messy scribblings, I have to fight back the urge to rip all the pages off. Everything reminds me of her, and it hurts like hell.
Before falling asleep, I keep my eyes open and I can hear my shallow breathing in the empty darkness of the room, where the only source of light is the dim moonlight coming through the windows, past the sheer curtains. I shiver, and as my heart cringes one last time, all I can think about were three lines that I would have liked to tell her before we parted:
I'm breaking
Don't let go
'Cause I need you close to me
• • •
I wake up startled. Once again, I had dreamed about her. As I blink to adapt to the light, I remember where I am: back in Los Angeles, in the city of angels, in the city where one particular angel lived. I came back a few days ago to try to relax and take a break from the hectic lifestyle of the Big Apple. Maybe this is what I need though. Maybe I do need to focus on myself and stop trying to squeeze and force songs out of me. Maybe a slow-paced week here will make me feel better. I can already smell the coffee cups and anticipate the walks around the beach, failing to get unnoticed. But if all of that does not work, I will definitely be taking the next flight to New York and try my best to move on with my life.
Through my dreams, I realized how deep the hole in my heart was, the hole that I dug myself when I left her that November. I realize now how lost I am without her, and that I lost my own way, without anyone else to blame. I realize how blind I am; she was my guiding light in my darkest days. Without her, I am nothing, and I am just realizing this now. What a fool I can be.
I sit up on my couch, where I ended up crashing a few hours ago. I rub my eyes and see those weird kaleidoscope-looking shapes. Everything is blurry and confusing for a second, and then it gets better. When I try to stand up, my head feels dizzy, and I have to hold on to something to not tilt and fall over. I hate this stupid love hangover.
I see my notebook open, resting on the floor; it probably fell down while I was sleeping. I pick it up and scan the page it is on. It shows the first song I wrote about Loren, a few days after our first date. It was the first single off my third album, and right now the sight of it burns my eyes almost as much as the sun rays do. The songs gives me an urgent feeling to see her, to hold her close and whisper in her hair that everything will be okay, that everything will go back to how it was before, but I remember that I am the one who caused all her pain. She probably has a new man for that, and I will forever be the one that got away. However, I tell myself that if I truly want to move on, and get past her, if I really want to get all the angst out and let some freshness in, I need to meet with her, and I need to explain myself. I need her to forgive me.
I decide to finally get up and start my day. I go up to my room and find my cellphone on my side table, next to an old picture of my parents and I. Hesitantly, I dial some numbers without even looking at the pad; it has been a while, but I will always be used to calling him at any hour of the day. I can hear the tone and I feel my forehead get sweaty. I do not know why I am feeling so nervous though, it is not like I cannot trust him or anything. True, we have had our battles, we have burned some bridges, but he will always be my family. Fine, the last time I talked to him was weeks ago, and he called just to check in, but he is still my dad. Unfortunately, after a while, it goes to voicemail and I almost give up. "You have reached Max, I'm not available – Eddie?"
"Dad! I thought you'd never answer."
"Why are you calling me? You never do." His voice sounds harsh. He probably hates me, and I cannot even blame him for it.
I am searching for excuses to tell him. In reality, I do not even know why I am calling him; it just seemed like the right thing to do a minute ago. "I'm sorry, I've just been really busy and – "
"Cut the bull, Eddie. Why are you calling?" He repeats just as harshly. "Where are you now, by the way?"
"I'm at home… in LA." I wait for him to say something, but I hear only silence at the other end of the line. "Uh… I was just calling… I know it might sound weird, but um… I wanted to see Loren…"
"… Why? You do know that you hurt her, right? That after you left, she couldn't smile for months? That I probably won't ever be able to forgive you for hurting her like you did? Why would you want to see her after what you did, Eddie? Tell me why!" His loud words screech in my ears. I know about all of these things, I know that I screwed up really badly, but that is exactly why I want to redeem myself. If I do not, I probably will never be able to forgive myself either. "I want to apologize, and explain myself. I know she won't forgive me, she has probably moved on – "
"She did, believe me."
"With who?" I am suddenly curious, and slightly… jealous? But then again, it has been years.
"I can't tell you, Eddie. It is none of my business. I can't just jump in every time and help you out when you put yourself in trouble."
"Exactly, that's why I need to see her myself."
"Son, she's moved on. She doesn't need you anymore. You've got to move on as well, find someone, go out, do something else… I don't know, just stop sulking."
"Dad, I don' think you get it. I have to see her to move on. If I can't tell her why I… broke up with her, and if I can't even apologize, then I think I'll forever regret it. I won't be able to look at myself in the mirror and walk away."
He sighs, "just… come over. I have to go, she's calling me." She?
"Loren's there?"
"Don't make me wait any longer. Don't make her wait any longer. I'll see you in a bit." He hangs up on me and I am left staring right through the window of my bedroom. Somewhere in this town, Loren is waiting for me, and she has waited long enough.
• • •
Saturday mornings are calm in Los Angeles, especially in the Valley. As I drive around, a familiar feeling washes over me, a feeling of contentment and tranquility; it kind of feels like home. Yet, the rows of trees and the houses look distant, as if I had not seen them for years… which technically is the case. I see a few people taking a stroll with their dogs or children, and it makes me wonder if I could ever have the chance of experiencing this. Could I ever be the one to settle down, to live the American Dream of having two kids, a dog and a pool in a white picket fenced backward? Maybe I could. Maybe if I did not blow it off with Loren, I could have had it with her.
I turn on Crescent. Her house is just there on my right. I am a few meters away from her, from seeing her and talking to her. I am a few meters away from holding her in my arms and burying my face in her hair. I am a few meters away from a hopeful forgiveness. But I know that will never happen.
After parking my car in front of the house, I take a moment and breathe in deeply. I realize that maybe I am making a big mistake. Maybe my father is right and she does not need me anymore. She is a strong woman, I know it, and she will be able to face anything. On the other hand, I am the weak one now, and I need to talk to her. I am so confused. I am tempted to just start my engine again and drive off; this was seriously a bad idea. I never should have come. Why did I not listen to my dad, who is right nine times out of ten? I am such an idiot! Gripping the steering wheel, I softly bang my head on it. My keys are still in the ignition, I simply have to turn them and I can escape all of this. But before I can do anything, I see movement in the window from the corner of my eye. Something – or someone – has moved.
Shit.
She saw me.
Shitshitshitshitshitshit.
There is no coming back now. Taking my keys out, I open the door and get out of the car. I try to make myself look presentable. I look down at myself with my jeans and t-shirt, and I check the reflection in my car window. Why did I not take a shower this morning? Oh right, I was too busy thinking about coming down here. I walk up to the door and as I ring the bell, murmurs behind the door suddenly come to a stop. I heard a faint "coming!" and I am nervous as hell. I look down at my sweaty hands and notice that I am absent-mindedly balancing myself on my feet.
"Eddie."
Her voice is calm but the look on her face says a lot. She looks surprised to see me – maybe my dad did not tell her I was coming – but then again, she seems a little relieved I am here, as if she was expecting my visit. I do not know what to say and how to react so I do the best I can.
"Hi."
Author's note: Sorry for the long delay, I'm not a quick writer. There will be some Leddie interactions soon, most of the story is already planned, so check back for more! Also, I love reading your reviews so keep them coming!
