october 2011

He was a catch and I was a fucking train wreck. I guess I never really saw a future there… like I said before, I wasn’t in love with him. But I would have settled, mostly out of apathy. We had been sitting at a booth, and the green hanging lamp between us turned my pale skin a sort of ghastly color. Honestly, I didn’t see it coming. It hadn’t occurred to me that he might dump me one day… but I wasn’t the type of girl to spend an afternoon scrawling our names in a notebook with cartoon hearts and cupid’s goddamn arrow. If it hadn’t seemed so rehearsed I might blame it on the fact that the lighting made me look like some sort of monster… but then again, we’d sat in that booth a million times with him holding and kissing my hand across the table. He’d have four or five cocktails and prattle on about what would happen when he finished his degree, and how he’d take care of me, and I’d just sit there tearing a cocktail napkin into pieces, and occasionally remember to bat my eyelashes in his direction. “Evie,” he’d said, setting his gin down. “Mmm?” I replied, sipping through a ridiculously tiny cocktail straw. “I’m leaving,” he announced, interlacing his long fingers nervously and anticipating my reaction. “How do you mean?” I asked, flatly. “I mean, I was offered a job in upstate New York and I am taking it.” “You were offered a job already?” I found that a bit hard to believe. “Yeah… I’m sorry, Evelyn.” “Why? Do you want me to come with you?” “Well… I mean…What would you do there?” “Oh.” I finished my drink and went to work on destroying a cocktail napkin. It was silent. He just looked at me and he looked a bit sad, but definitely not in the way he used to look at me. I wondered to myself how long ago the love and light had gone out of his eyes… I just didn’t notice. Didn’t pay attention. The silence was annoying me so I repeated my question, although I knew what the answer would be. “So.. do you want me to come with you?” “No.” And that’s when he looked down. I think maybe he expected some big scene from me, but I hadn’t had enough liquor for that. I picked up my bag and wished him luck. “Let me drive you home, at least.” He insisted. It was dark and raining so I agreed. It was the most uncomfortable car ride of my life, and trust me, I’ve had a few. It was quiet. Stan tried fiddling with the radio a bit but none of the music seemed appropriate. We pulled up to my sorry apartment and I didn’t really know what to do or say so I just said what came to mind. “Do you want your stuff back?” I asked. That was what I thought people talked about after they broke up. He didn’t have much stuff at my place, we usually stayed at his for obvious reasons. “Um… that’s okay…” I could see that he wanted to just peel out and be done with it. “Your blender? Don’t you want that? It’s nice.” “No, you keep it, Evelyn.” “Alright. Bye Stan,” I shut the door before he could reply. It was the first time since we met that he drove off before making sure I got in okay. That was the last I’d seen him. Buddy and I ended up eating the cupcakes I’d baked for his graduation party. I assumed he was gone, I hadn’t seen him around town but hadn’t really looked. To me it was just one more failure to add to my list. One more big waste of time.

shell

still as the most inanimate of objects sad and sedentary years spent , treasured, wasted bloated with whiskey swimming in the lake and hoping to drown my bed is my home the sun is a stranger bleeding greedily onto a pink shag rug a zombie at my closet deciding which dress to die in