For friends of Bill and Lois, with gratitude
© 2013
Please don't reproduce this original work without written permission from the author.
If you're looking for a lot of quick and dirty sex, this is probably not the story for you.
*
I looked at the clock when the phone woke me up. 2:30AM. Dread filled my chest as I answered.
"Hello?"
"I'm done."
"Kara, I can't...."
"I know, Jen. I just wanted to let you to know."
"Goodbye Kara."
I laid my head down and cried.
***
The phone rang in my office just as I was getting ready to leave for the day.
"Hello, darling. Want to meet Mark and me for dinner?"
"Hey Erik. A little late for a dinner invitation, isn't it? Anyway, I'm going running and then I want to paint the bathroom."
"Dull, girl."
"Says the accountant."
"That's why I have to make sure I have fun when I'm not at work!"
"I know. Some other night, k? And give me more notice. I'm a busy woman."
"Yes, I know. Just not busy with the right things. Speaking of which, you'll never guess who I ran into today."
"Adele?"
"I wish. No. Kara."
All of the air suddenly went out of my lungs and I sat down in my desk chair. Nine months had passed since that early morning phone call.
"Where?"
"At the pharmacy. She said she had a sinus infection and was picking up antibiotics."
"Likely story."
"She asked about you."
"What did you say?"
"I told her you were an old maid still pining for her."
"Erik!"
"I'm kidding. Give me some credit. I said you were fine and were fixing up a house."
"Why did you tell her that?"
"Uh, because it's true? Why not?"
"Because...she doesn't need to know anything about me anymore!"
"Whoa..."
"I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you. It doesn't matter. How did she look?"
"Good. Clean."
"Yeah, for now."
"Jen..."
"I know -- let it go. OK. Have fun tonight. Say hi to Mark."
"I love you."
"I know. I love you too."
Later that evening while I was painting my newly mudded bathroom, I found myself repeating a line from the old Bill Murray movie Meatballs: "It just doesn't matter. It just doesn't matter." I had recited it during finals weeks in college when I'd studied all I could and the results were out of my hands.
It was a lie now, of course, and I knew it. I hoped if I kept saying it, it would eventually become the truth.
I've always tried to escape from my feelings instead of dealing with them. When I was kid I would escape into books, or the fantasy world I created in my head. In that world, nobody screamed, or yelled, or drank. Now that I'm an adult I escape by running or working, and there are consequences if I do either of those things too much. I injure myself working out too hard, or I overwork and get sick. I'd started seeing a counselor a few months before Kara and I split up and I was still seeing her. She was helping me get a little more comfortable with my feelings. I was learning that feelings pass eventually, and I don't have to avoid them.