Love and infatuation are the worst drugs of all.
You kick one and move to the other, but in the end, you want them both.
Alicia gets out of bed and smiles. Her skin is pulled tight, she’s draped in a blanket, she’s tan with brown hair and blonde streaks and all the other homogenized affects that so many people tend to parade around.
She’s also got a tattoo of a butterfly on her lower back.
She goes to the bathroom.
I lay in bed. Think of Evaline. Wonder what she’s doing right now. I’ll never know. She could be dead for all I know.
And Alicia comes out of the bathroom and gets back in bed with me. She presses her face into my chest.
She smells like vanilla.
I’m sweaty.
What’s left of her makeup is about to rub off onto me.
I’m ok with that.
And Alicia is a different type of girl. Single. She says that’ she’s been married 22 times. Maybe she’s finally given up. Maybe she can see through the bullshit. I doubt it.
There are moments when I wonder if we’re doing more than just fucking.
Maybe we’re creating a bond. Maybe this is the development of a relationship. I can’t even tell. Everything is clouded in a decay of grief and loss and drugs. For all I know we could be on our way to getting married.
I’m still married to Evaline.
I squeeze Alicia tight. She smiles. I smile. It feels good. Above me the ceiling fan is spinning.
After a few minutes I finally get out of bed. My legs feel weak. I’m not dizzy but my heart is beating fast.
I put on my clothes. One pant leg at a time.
‘So what are you up to for the rest of the week?’ This is me trying to make small talk. I’ve never been too good at it. Maybe that’s why I can’t hold onto my friends.
‘I’m just working for the most part. Going to the movies with some of my girlfriends this weekend. Maybe I’ll hit the bar. I’m not too sure.’
I smile and nod and try to think of something witty to say, but I can’t. I don’t know Alicia all that well. It’s been a few years but she still feels like a stranger when I talk to her. It’s just her body that I know so well.
‘That sounds fun.’ This is me wincing at how fake I sound. I could care less about what she’s doing.
‘Yeah I know! There’s this really funny movie coming out on Friday, ugh, I can’t remember what it’s called… But I think it’ll probably be pretty good. Plus we’re going to a bar in town that serves the BEST appletini’s. It’s really going to be great.’
I miss the conversations that I used to have with Evaline.
And now I’m dressed. Sitting at the edge of Alicia’s bed. She smiles. The comforter is wrapped over her shoulders as she sits up next to me. We smile at each other, but it’s not a genuine smile, more like a smile that you’d give to a passing stranger as to let them know you’re not a complete asshole.
Then Alicia does something that makes me flinch. She grabs my hand and squeezes it tight. There’s a connection that’s missing on my end.
She’s genuine.
I’m just trying to fill a void.
I might as well be jerking off into a toilet.
We hug.
I leave.
I hit the pavement and walk to the bus stop. The weather is nice like it always is. The wind is moving and the sun is shining and it’s early morning.
There’s hardly any traffic.
For a moment I stop.
Stand.
Watch as everything passes me by; the cars and kids and insects and pets.
Everything keeps on moving.
Nothing seems to stop and nothing seems to go anywhere.
And I think back to yesterday, the way I felt when remembering the first time I met Evaline. The tastes and sights and sounds and…
My whole body freezes.
The smell in the air from yesterday. Outside my house. That was the smell of Evaline’s perfume.
For some reason I can’t let go.
Her smell and her very being still bleed from my veins.
So I’m at my parent’s house. They’re gone. Gone like they always are. I sometimes wonder if they ever even see each other. In the end I guess they’re no different than anyone else.
I’m wandering around outside and looking for any trace of Evaline that I can find. Something to tell me that she really was here. Something to let me know that I’m not just another crazy man. Something to let me know that the perfume I smelled really was hers.
And most likely I am crazy.
No job.
No wife.
Living with my parents.
To any outsider it’s obvious that I have issues.
We’re defined by our independence. We’re celebrated for our autonomy.
So here I am, standing outside in my parent’s garden. Barefoot and broke; a mess that smells like yesterdays fuck. I need a shower. I need to get my life together. I need some sort of closure.
I think that in the end I’ve found the concept of closure to be nothing more than a human invention, something we’ve created to give us purpose. Another thing for us to strive towards.
When you live forever you tend to think that closure will happen later than sooner.
The truth is that we’re just lazy.
Nothing is hard and nothing gets too messed up. We live forever and we don’t have to worry about not getting a chance to make things right, we have forever to get things right.
I had 2000 years to get love right.
I’m still failing.
I wanted it to read like the perfect poem.
I wanted to build something beautiful.
I always assumed I’d have more time to get it done. More time to perfect the concept of love. I was promised eternity and now I’ve got a gun with a slow trigger up against my head..
And so I feel a sinking in my gut and in my head and in my heart. The force of gravity pushes my soul to my feet as I walk back into my parent’s house.
Here I am.
Ellis Jackson.
Jobless.
Loveless
Void of all the things that I’m supposed to rely on in defining me as an adult.
Somewhere along the way I messed up.
And now I’m feeling nostalgic.
I couldn’t find Evaline outside, so I’ll now find her however I can.
I go to my room. Get out my pills. Grab a magazine.
It’s: Bottle, hand, mouth and then my head spins.
My heart beats a lonely beat.
I’m reading.
