He Said
And the streetlights hum keeps the night awake. Keeps it drawing back those deadly breaths. You know the ones we suck in those last seconds before life shuts its eyes. Desperate lungfuls of air. Like the ones in old Westerns where cowboys that drew their pistols too slow, bubble blood from their mouths to the dirt. And I’m on the backstreets heading somewhere else – somewhere north of apathy, south of resentment. East of wherever the fuck it is you are right now.

I’m walking fast. Down streets lined with red-brick houses and jacaranda trees. Past the homeless curled up in doorways, getting comfortable for the night. And the streetlights buzz.

My breath is short and fast, as it is so often lately. Especially at times like this. In a psychiatrist’s office they ask if you are aware of the physical presence of the heart in times of panic. Tonight I felt it drop three inches.

Close my eyes. It’s starting to rain. Walk. Three more blocks and I’m at the train station.

And the train winds away from the suburbs. And outside my window, concrete colours smear past my eyes in long liquid blurs. Trees thwap past in rhythm to the trains hard steel wheels. Then from the green back to seventeen shades of grey. To match my disposition.

Under my feet which are stretched out in front of me, the vinyl seats have blistered and cracked from the fierce summer sun. I dig a Cuban toe into a hole and pull up, tearing a bigger split into the seat. On either side of my tear are the words ‘Tracy’, ‘a’ and ‘is’, ‘whore’.

It’s January – the hottest month on record. On the calendar in my office, I have it crossed as Day 29. December 13 is marked with a big red Zero; the first day of the rest of my life. The day time began. Or at least, the day time changed.

Remember when we broke up I said ‘Don’t be a stranger.’ I said ‘I don’t want to bump into you in cinema queues’. Where you and I and the unknown around us all recoil slightly at the noticeable and sudden shift in the atmosphere. Where the air becomes thicker somehow, the wedge between the air you breathe and the air I breathe so so tangible. It’s the wedge that says ‘Fuck. I don’t know you anymore. I don’t know where you’ll be at any given moment of the day or week. Not like before’. And here you are now in a movie queue, leaning backwards and offering up an awkward ‘oh hey’, kissing me on the cheek while I go for the lips.

The train yanks to a halt and vomits up a thousand colours of people onto the platform. All these corporates, like robots, shaking out their umbrellas and kicking water off their black business shoes before the train rocks forward and tilts them all off balance. I’m thinking how each and every one of them has their own inner dialogue going on in this moment. No one cares what the others are.

I lean back in my seat and stretch my legs forward, look out the window. My heart rate has steadied and for the first time in the last hour, my head empties enough to make room for some rational thought. So I think about you and us. I’m so fucking confused. Did we do the right thing? What colour and shape will these months take in 5, 10, 20 years time? Will they be weighed down by so many inevitable years of higher hurdles and bigger struggles or will my organs always tighten when I reflect on them?

I know it was mutual but I was wrong. If you called me now and offered yourself, I’d take you back in a second. But you aren’t going to call. Why would you? You were always the stronger one and what hurts the most is how much better you’re doing than me. I know you are. I know you moved on within a matter of days, forgetting me and our four years like childhood birthdays. I know you don’t really give a shit about me. You probably never even loved me. I bet you were so relieved the day we broke up. You’ve probably already met someone else. Was that someone you were with at the movies? Was it?

Fuck. Stop it. I’m being ridiculous now.

An elderly lady is standing in front of me, eyeing off my seat and the one my legs are stretched out on. I look at her and shrug my shoulders, turn back out the window. The train rattles toward another station, its platform empty apart from one body seated alone on a bench further ahead. As the body becomes bigger and the train moves alongside it, I realize it’s you Fiona. I spin my head around and out the window for a second glance as the train speeds past. What are you doing? This isn’t your line? You look upset. Your head is hung so low. Why are you there?

Immediately my guts tighten again and my lungs shrink like they’re being strangled and wrung out by large fists. I turn back to the front, pull my hands to my forehead. I’m soaked with sweat and there’s a dank, musty smell coming from the hairline on the back of my neck. God I want you back. Don’t I? I do don’t I? Maybe I’ll feel different in the morning. Maybe I’m just having a bad night. Right now I’m so pumped full of Efexor it’s hard to tell.

At least you were on your own I guess. Although, I bet you’re on your way to your new boyfriend’s place. I bet he’s fucking hot too. With a twelve-inch cock. Maybe that’s what you’re rushing to now. His cock. You parents probably love him too. He’d be so much better suited for Daddy’s little angel than I ever was. You parents never liked me.

Maybe it will get easier with time. Or maybe you’ll give me another chance.

She Said.

Do you think it’s possible to fall so low that you don’t recognize yourself? Why don’t I know the girl that’s staring back at me from this bathroom mirror? Sure there are some familiarities – she has the same coloured hair as me but I don’t ever remember it being so dry and wiry. So wispy. And these eyes, when did they go from being such a bright blue to a faint grey, sunk so deep below such dark ridges. And that’s certainly not my skin, patchy and red. The real me hasn’t had skin problems since the eighth grade. Who is this?

I splash water on my face and head back out to the foyer, join the back of the line and wait. It’s five minutes before I look up and see you walk in the door. In an instant I feel sick. Remember when we broke up, you said ‘it’d be cool if we could still hang out occasionally.’ You said ‘Maybe I’ll see you in a movie queue sometime’. I remember thinking how mature that sounded and loving you for it, although seeing you now, I’m sure this is not what you meant. Saying hi to you was hard, real hard. I was awkward because my date was standing behind me. Did you see him? I don’t think you did? It doesn’t matter anyway, Emily set me up with him and I’m just waiting for him to fuck off home. I thought maybe I was ready and that’s why I said yes. Sorry about the kiss on the cheek. Guess I don’t know what the boundaries are yet.

Did you end out seeing a film? I turned back from the counter and you were gone. I didn’t see one either, gave my ticket to someone at the back of the queue and went for a walk. It was so quiet outside; you could hear a pin drop. I walked for an hour and it was like the day was fighting off the night. The only sound around was the whispering streetlights.
 
I miss you so much. I had no idea this would hurt like it does but I guess four years is a long time to be in love with someone. Even my parents miss you. I think my father always liked the idea of you as a son-in-law, definitely more than the other losers I’ve bought home. I hope you’re not doing what you always do and focusing on the bad times. I’m not. Please think about all the fun we had as well occasionally. That’s what gets me through the day. Somehow I doubt I’ll ever really get over you.

It’s starting to rain now. It’s the same kind of rain we had that time when we went up to your brother’s farm. You know the type that come in big fat drops that you can catch on your tongue, that make those huge splashes in the puddles on the pavement. You can smell them.

I wonder if we did the right thing. I’m so confused although I bet that surprises you. I’m sure you’re doing the thing you always do where you make things up in your head and then convince yourself that they are true and real. Please don’t doubt me. That always pissed me off. I don’t know why you’ve always got to be so negative about everything. I wish you could see that that’s what drove us apart in the first place.

I really want to talk to you. I think I might get the train to your place now so I hope you’re at home.

It’s so quiet out for this time of year. I guess it is raining pretty hard so maybe they’re all at home. The train platform is completely empty when I get there and sit down on the bench. God I wish my brain would let me give this whole train wreck some proper thought. It seems like every time I get the chance to sit down and work things out in my head, I just go around in circles. So I consciously clear my mind and then in the empty space I put one sole question. Then I block everything else out and try and answer it but within seconds I’ve diverted to something else and when I try to bring it back the answer that seemed so clear moments before has either faded or been replaced by its opposite. All I know is my pain.

I’m crying now. I feel like I’ve cried for weeks. Did you know that it’s a month tomorrow since we broke up?I’ve been trying to keep my shit together around other people because I know that, regardless of what they tell you, people don’t really care about the relationship troubles of their friends. Unless it involves them. I’m bawling now as the Express train hurtles through the station. I don’t look up until it pulls out the other end and I see you. You’ve got your head out the carriage window. You must have seen me. I guess you went for a long walk as well. You look so upset Sam. Your face is all wet. I don’t know if I can deal with that right now. Being around someone as miserable as me probably isn’t wise but god I want you to hold me in your arms and tell me it’ll all work out.

The next train arrives and stops in front of me. There’s no one on it except an old homeless guy who’s passed out in the corner and a bunch of skate kids who are laughing at him. This is the train to your place.

The train rattles out of the station.

I look up at it from the platform.

Not tonight.