Vomit
October, 2002
“You look like shit.”
“You look like shit!”
“No I don’t! Look at my rosy cheeks!”
Kelly’s right. Ever since last March she’s looked amazingly refreshed and it bugs the crap out of me. I should really ask her what spa she’s been going to.
Giggling, “You wanna know why?”
“Why what?”
“Why you look like shit.”
“I already know why! I’ve been working my butt off opening that new studio in…in… Jesus, my memory is for shit these days! I can’t even remember where the damn place is!”
“I know why your memory is bad too, and boy oh boy is it ever gonna freak you out.”
Our food arrives, and the minute it lands in front of me I push it away.
“Not hungry?”
“Not at all. And the smell…it makes me nauseous!”
Kelly flicks a French fry at me and worriedly insists, “Chrissy I think you need to get your head out of your ass and wake up.”
“I’m trying!”
Grabbing my wrists, she shakes them and yells, “NO, REALLY WAKE UP! IT’S COMING! IT’S COMING!”
I snap out of my dream just in time to run to the bathroom and throw up.
After wiping up the mess, I check on Kendall to make sure I didn’t wake her with the ghastly noise, before heading to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Steeping my bag, I softly glide my hand across the countertop that Leo placed me on during Holy F*cking Shit night. That night was one of a million exciting firsts I shared with him. My hopes were high so many times during our relationship that we would make it. And so many times I managed to royally screw everything up. I numbly sip my tea. Then, I do what I do every morning…count the days since I last saw the man who was the love of my life.
It’s been over a month since I left his New York apartment. Remarkably, I was able to hail a cab without melting down, lay in my hotel bed without wanting to kill myself, and I flew home looking about as normal as anyone else on the plane (which isn’t saying much because most New Yorkers look like walking zombies). Because of the little girl in the other room I had no choice but to stay calm and persevere, so that’s what I did. Of course, it doesn’t mean that every single day since I left him hasn’t hurt like a mother f*cker.
I think the hardest part about coming home was telling Kendall that Leo and I decided to go our separate ways. After I explained that he wouldn’t be moving in with us, she got her snipe-hunting night vision goggles that he sent her a few months back, handed them to me and said, “I guess I don’t need these anymore,” and then somberly walked back into her room. I definitely won’t be winning any ‘guardian-of-dead-best-friend’s-daughter-mother of the year’ awards any time soon.
The second hardest part about coming home has been deciding what to do about the new house in Lafayette. With the money I still have saved from the sale of my Danville house and what I earn at Forever Young, Inc. I can easily buy out Leo’s half of the down payment. But, it’s the monthly overhead of the place that scares me. I’d have to kiss things goodbye like facials, fancy restaurants, and flashy shoes, and I just don’t think I’m ready to do that. Even so, Kendall and I are crawling all over each other in the cottage and something needs to be done. I asked the real estate agent if I could have until December to decide what to do, and after running it by Leo, she told me it would be fine. A thought suddenly occurs to me and I slam my tea cup down. That real estate agent is cute and single! What if she’s flirting with him now that she knows I’m out of the picture? Oh my God, I’ll kill her! Dammit! How come I don’t know Leo’s voicemail code? No! Calm down, Chrissy! It’s for the better. Life will be better for you if you don’t know about his love life….something he’s bound to have again one day. If you had his code, you’d just go back to being a psycho and dial in ten times a day looking for status updates. It would break you down…it would DESTROY YOU! Yep, Leo’s voicemail, while it was a less stimulating drug than the actual physical Leo, it was a drug nonetheless and my life is better without it.
And with thoughts of Leo doing to my real estate agent what he did to me on Holy F*cking Shit night, I slam my tea cup down on the counter one more time and run to the bathroom to throw up again.