She stormed off. The tension was so thick that I could feel the curse words she was thinking as she disappeared from the living room. I rolled my eyes, sighed and plopped my chubby body back down on the couch. Parts of my body jiggled, and I was mad that made me want to laugh. I held it in, calmed myself and for a moment, just a brief moment, I thought she might actually grab her gun, come back and shoot me. She didn't I heard the front door open, brief pause, then slam shut. I waited a bit before I decided to run to the window and look outside. Due to the limited view, I couldn't see her. Only rain. Lots of rain. It was getting heavier by the minute, to the point that it was coming down in sheets. Much how one should not refer to a serving of cookies as a sleeve, I didn't like referring to a quantity of rain as a sheet. But, that’s what it was. Back to the couch. I looked around and saw the spilled coffee and tea paraphernalia, leftovers of our fight. Hers. I don’t drink coffee. My eyelids felt too dense to negotiate trying to stay awake. I purposely slumped to my right side, leaned back and rested my head on my hand.
The knock on the door jolted me awake. A glance at the clock let me know I was out for thirty minutes, but it felt like hours. I suddenly remembered that I might or might not be single. The realization of being in limbo terrified me. It felt like a movie with that ethereal feel; where things are a bit too fluid, important items just out of reach and you are not in control of your own body. I imagined I was looking at life through a fifty millimeter lens and everything had a shallow depth of focus except for what I was focusing on. I anxiously anticipated the ending, but I was too worked up about the current set of circumstances to be able to see where things were going. The window stole another quick look from me and it appeared as though the rain brought in some fog nearly as thick as the fog in my head. Oh yeah! The door! I thought if I remained still, my unexpected visitor might go away. I was in no mood for company anyway.
Knock, Knock, Knock.
“Hello?” I said before I had the door fully opened. I replayed this morning’s events in my head. Yelling. Screaming. We threw things at each other, knocked over furniture. I couldn't believe how far we took it. I willed myself to pay attention to this person at my door. He was a young, androgynous looking man; very petite, short statured and perpetually smiling. He was holding some pamphlets and asking me if I would like to talk about Jesus Christ.
“Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your personal lord and savior?”
“Personal? What other kind is there? And are there other options?”
I was met with silence.
“Maybe I should come in, and sit down, and chat with you?” I picked up on his weird rhythmic cadence.
“Sure…” Why did I agree to let him in? Was I that desperate to talk to someone?
On the way back to the couch, with my new friend following me, my bare feet stepped on a small, sharp object.
“Fuck!” He stopped and looked at me. I looked down and realized what I stepped on: a small sugar cube, right next to a packet of instant coffee and a few tea bags. A bittersweet reminder of what was my fault, and what I still had to deal with. And my foot bled. Why was sugar so sharp?
“Are you alright?” he asked me.
“If you have problems that are troubling you, Jesus always has the answer.”
“Really? Can he help me with my girlfriend? We had a huge fight earlier… hence the mess.”
“Well, we had the talk about marriage, kids, the whole nine yards. I don’t know if I’m ready, and I try to be honest with her, but then she flips out and says I have a fear of commitment and I’m immature. One thing lead to another, and here we are, alone.”
His voice changed a little, as if his nerves relaxed.
“I’m a little confused. I’m sorry. I honestly didn't think there would even be mention of a girlfriend.” I raised an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry, what now? I thought you asked me what was going on?”
“I thought it was part of the role play. But, you’re just getting weird man.”
“Alright, I think you got the wrong idea.”
Before we could continue, we heard a thud from the back bedroom.
“What the hell was that?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe someone’s in the house.”
“Fuck this, I’m outta here. You can keep the bible,” The strange blond man said as he made his way to my front door.
“Wait. Why did you come here?”
He stayed just long enough to give me all the explanation I needed, “I have the feeling that the person I talked to on craigslist gave me the wrong address. Bye!”
He disappeared. I went to the bedroom to investigate. I heard more muffled noises coming from inside the closet. It sounded like crying. I slowly opened the door to find her there, crying, and a box of photographs spilled on the ground all around her as if they were satellites, orbiting her. She was perfectly in the center. I stared at her, and she looked up at me.
I motioned for her to stand up. She did, and I wrapped my arms around her.
“I thought you left.”
“I wanted to, but I just came in here instead to be alone. I was trying to get something from the top shelf, but I knocked that box down by accident.”
We stood in silence for a few moments, hugging. I felt the urge to apologize.
“I’m sorry things got crazy. I was only being honest, I’m not ready.”
“What were you reaching for?”
She looked into my eyes.
“It doesn't matter. I have what I need now.”
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