Part 11
Half an hour later I arrive home. The bottle in my hands. Wine. Vicodin. A good combination, huh? If you're gonna screw yourself up, do it right. I grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with the wine. Then I headed to our bedroom and walked out to the balcony. It had a great view. Amazing. This used to be the right place to think about everything. Just like the roof at County. But that one was for screwing things at work, killing a patient, giving the wrong medication, these kind of things. This one is to think about life and all that surrounds it. Love. Relationships. Marriage. That was our next step. I was intending on proposing to her. Properly. I was gonna take her to Paris. We would go to the finest restaurant. Then I'd take her to the Eiffel Tower, knee down, say how much I love her, that I want to be with her forever. And then I'd reach my pocket to pick a small box. I would open it carefully and gently put it on her ring finger. And I would actually mean it. I would. After that night on the restaurant, everything just lost control. The plan was taking the wrong direction. Plan. Maybe it's better to have more than one you know. If it gets wrong... well, it got wrong. You need to come up with something to make it right. Something I didn't do. Fear. Anger. Take whatever you prefer.
"Are you gonna tell me what this is all about?"
"I thought we both just deserved a break, especially after a day like today."
"Mm-hmm. It was more like a month. pause, and she smiles But what's it really all about?"
"So you think this is a keeper?"
"The restaurant?"
"Us. You and me."
"Are you okay?"
"I've, uh, spent a long time looking for a relationship that I thought would stick. Sometimes it was the wrong person. Sometimes I guess I wasn't ready, or in the right place, but... I think I am now. I really think I am now. Are you?"
"John…"
"Because I really want this..to stick."
"Me too."
"I know that uh, we've had a rough time, and there's still a lot of stuff that we have to get through. But I think we're doing okay. I think that we're growing, we're changing. Do you?"
"I don't know if people ever really change. But, I know what you mean."
"You do?"
"I think I do."
"Mm-hmm. Well, let's see what's for dessert."
"That's it? You bought out this whole place just for that?"
"That. And the chocolate soufflé."
Lucky? Nah, no thanks. That's not for me. It was for a while but it disappeared when I left to Africa. It came back again when I found my way back to her. Once again it disappeared when she died. And that's the end of lucky to me. You know, it's not easy to focus on work when your mind is in someone you love all the time. I can tell. Having things that remind you of that someone only makes it harder. In my case, everything reminds me of her. Everywhere I go I see something or listen to a song or see someone who knew her or we used to make fun at and that reminds me of her. I looked at the glass full of wine over the table and moved to grab it. I made my way to the edge of the balcony again and leaned over so I could see the streets below. It wasn't that high. I mean, if you want to do something crazy and jump. Seems like it's not too painful. You're dead as soon as you reach the ground. I must admit it's not a bad way to go. I turned around and looked inside. The glass still hanging in my hand. I stared at everything inside the bedroom. I noticed the sheet. It was the same one from that day.
"You still okay with me going?"
"Yeah, I said I was."
"You meant it? What are you thinking?"
"Nothing."
"Work?"
"Nope."
"Your mom?"
"God, no."
"Come on, tell me."
"It's a song."
"Oh yeah?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Which one?"
"From the 70s."
"It's goofy."
"'Blinded by the Light'."
"No."
"'Love Will Keep Us Together'."
"Nope. 'Rubbing sticks and stones together makes the sparks ignite'…"
"No…."
"You wanna get that?"
"Nope."
I walked in and moved to lay on the bed. It still had her perfume. Tears formed in my eyes as I ran my hand over the sheet – in the side she used to sleep. Running my hand over it reminded me of two times. I was away and found her sleeping on my side of the bed. If I knew her so well I'd bet she's been sleeping where I used to all these years. It was her way to say she missed me. I missed her. I still do. Always will. She was never good with words, but her eyes showed to me everything she was feeling. I wasn't very good at words either, but she knew how I felt only by looking. This I know for sure, I won't have it with no one else. Cause there'll be no one else. Not anymore. It'll be only her. I love her. Oh God I'm so in love with her. Everytime I looked at her I got lost in her eyes. They were so misterious yet they were so revealers. I knew what she wanted to do only by watching her. And I had to have the initiative to move towards her and make it. And most of times I was right. Even when we fought I could see in her eyes that that wasn't what she wanted. A curious thing is that it was always dark when we fought. Not only literally. I mean there was darkness in both of our hearts at those times. When we finished screaming at each other at the top of our lungs she just stood still, crying and trembling. And all my anger suddenly faded away. Seeing her so vulnerable, so fragile made my heart melt and I forgot what just happened after every fight. Sometimes I let love take over me and slowly moved towards her, tiptoing carefully not to scare her. Unless it was a pretty bad fight, she didn't move not even an inch to avoid me. That made me confident to keep going. And soon I had her face on my hands, her eyes closed and non-stop sobbing. With my thumbs I wiped away her tears to assure her everything would be just fine. Then she leaned against my chest and I caressed her hair and back. But sometimes something different happened. She was standing still, leaned against the wall, crying and sobbing. I could barely see her face. I was too angry and mad at her, I couldn't even be in the same room as her. I just grabbed my car key and walked out, slamming the door behind me. I'd bet she slipped down until she reached the floor with her hands on her head. Crying and sobbing harder. And I just drove off. No apparent destination. Just going where my mind told me to. As a matter of fact it always led me to that same place. So familiar. To me and to her. The place that held so many histories. The place I was going over right now. We always went there to think and to chill, me most. The river.