Gwen> Stranger

He doesn’t know me enough to love me the way he says. We have never been friends. He doesn’t tell me what he’s thinking. I no longer attempt to share my deepest desires with him. When I have good news he is not the first person I call. He doesn’t know me. All we know is great sex. All we have is great sex. Come to think about it he only says he loves me voluntarily after sex. All of the men in my past probably did the same but this time I notice because for whatever reason, this time it matters.

I have never felt so broken. A man who I open up to after heart break who can easily continue to add damage has no heart himself. However, I can’t let him go. I acknowledge that this relationship is most likely the worst I’ve ever been in. I’m more miserable than I am happy. But I can’t let him go. I ache for the times we move in synchronization. I love how we move together. It makes me believe that I love him. In those moments I can’t remember the bad until he gets up, goes to the bathroom, cleans himself, and returns. Hard. Only soft after I snuggle up to him, and it’s easier for him to wrap his arm around me for comfort of the position.

He doesn’t know me. Days before Valentines Day I spend everything I have to make him happy. It’s the only way I can show him how I feel because he doesn’t hear me. I have conditioned myself to not tell him that I love him anymore. If I say it, it slips out. His response is always awkward. He pauses then returns the gesture. No feeling. Robotic. I watch him on his phone engrossed in conversations, laughing in a way I have never made him laugh.

At six o’clock in the morning his phone rings. It’s a ring tone I haven’t heard in a while. It’s a recording of a song he wrote last year that I’ve only heard once before, seemingly seeping through the cracks in the walls at the office as Zora played it over and over. He just got in. He rolls out of my bed and tells me he has to go again. Something to do with a band member needing a ride to the airport. I know it’s not true. It never is. On the nights he chooses to grace me with his presence, I watch him get up earlier than I do to always run some random errand.

I caught him once. Sitting in a cab outside of my job. Of course I thought he was there to see me. When I was about to approach the car I saw that his gaze was locked in another direction. He was staring at her. Watching Zora get her morning bagel from one of the deli carts outside of the station. Her morning routine. I realized that this was also Brent’s morning routine.

Now he’s off to see her again. I can’t object because then I get blamed for being unnecessarily jealous. As far as he is concerned I have no proof. The law rules heavily in our relationship “if there’s no proof, then there is no offense”. I deal with it. I hate him for it, but I say I love you when he leaves. He responds with his back turned to me.

He doesn’t know me. I don’t know me.

Zora> Bounce

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“I’ve loved you once, loved you twice, a third time”- Anonymous

I remember there was a time in my life where I wanted to be a wife and mother more than anything. In the span of one year I watched both of those opportunities slip away from me. There are random moments when I remember that the proposal I wanted so badly from Quincy went to someone else. Sometimes I catch myself rubbing my stomach as if the baby I lost after the attempt to take my life in May was still there; still growing.

I didn’t even know I was pregnant. I didn’t know that Brent and I created a life together. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind when I told the doctors I didn’t want the child. I was thinking about my broken heart. I kept telling myself that he was going to leave me like the others. I didn’t want to be reminded of that heart break everyday as I had to raise a child on my own, and share custody with him when he eventually settles down with the family he really wanted.

That memory is haunting me as Leigh has stopped calling and Brent won’t stop. I completely cut him off after I chose Mark at the New Years Eve party last year, and then I found out he was dating Gwen. Except for that one night when I was feeling unsure of where things were going with Mark. One night where I let him hold me, and hum the song he wrote for me in my ear. One night where I let him physically turn any pain I felt into pleasure. When I woke up in the hospital he was sitting next to my bed. Brent slipped in while Mark was preoccupied trying to alert my family. He told the nurse that I was his fiancé. I told the nurse to make him leave. He touched my stomach and I knew instantly what he was trying to tell me. The doctors later confirmed.

I finally looked at my phone to see that Brent had left me several voice messages begging me to call him. There were also two texts. One read “What do you want to do?” the other said “Don’t hate me”. That’s all I needed to see. As far I as I was concerned he didn’t want the baby because he didn’t see a future with me. A couple of hours before I found out about the child, I no longer wanted a future for me.

Now two months into this new year, I’m in a familiar place. Losing myself in the mess I created in the pursuit to feel loved by some guy. I swear men can sniff out when I’m single. As soon as one leaves another one is ready to step in and I always clear the way. What’s worse is that I seem to have a revolving door for my exes. I move on so quickly that I lost count of who is a rebound. For a while we bounce around together in perfect synchronization hitting the ground and being held firmly. Then the simplest distraction causes the ball to be stolen. A shot is taken by the opposing team. Sometimes they score and all I could think about is how I had control of the ball a couple of seconds before. A whistle is blown and the ball is back in my possession. I take a deep breath and return Brent’s call.

“Hello,” he said sounding hoarse. It was six o’clock in the morning. He probably fell asleep about an hour ago. His band was playing the late night set at the jazz bar the night before.

I closed my eyes, grabbed my stomach and whispered, “Come over”.

Zora> Rehab Part II

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We are afraid to care too much for fear that the other person does not care at all. – Unknown

 I could feel him following me to the refreshments table. I never liked the meetings but the cupcakes Dr. Rae brought every week were almost heavenly. I reached for the last peanut butter filled chocolate cupcake when a hand from behind grabbed it. I didn’t turn around. I knew it was Leigh. I noticed a letter “E” tattooed on the dark side of his hand in a fancy cursive font.

I wasn’t in the mood to fight with anyone, so I proceeded to reach for my second favorite the lemon cupcake. Once again, Leigh beat me to it. I turned to leave the building without any eye contact but sure enough I heard foot steps running behind me.

He finally said “Why are you so mousy?”

I was absolutely insulted. Granted I was wearing an old college t-shirt, denim shorts and my favorite and worn out Chuck Taylor sneakers. My fro was a bit untamed but still presentable and I had no make up on to speak off. But I wanted to smack him for making such a comment. As soon as I had the thought I turned around with an open hand hoping to make contact with that sculpted jaw of his but he caught my hand.

He was about a foot taller than me and my aim was way off. I most likely would have hit him on his chest. He had a firm grip on my hand and somehow turned my intended strike into a hand shake. When he turned over my hand he caught a glimpse of the scars healing on my wrist I got a better look at his “E” tattoo. We silently acknowledged each other’s scars.

“What I meant to ask was why are you so quiet?” Leigh said.

I felt a little embarrassed for attempting to hit a stranger who just chose the wrong words to ask me a question.

“I’m not quiet, I just observe”, I finally responded after a long awkward silence.

“Well I poured my heart out in there. I think it’s only fair that you do the same. Tell me why a woman like you ended up in a place like this.”

“That’s none of your business”, I snapped.

“I thought we connected for minute after I finished sharing with the group. I thought that maybe you understood or had a similar experience. Aren’t we all supposed to be here to help each other?”

He began to walk back into the meeting room. I was going to let him go but I found myself chasing after him.

He stopped and turned to face me.

“I’m sorry I don’t mean to be rude. My name is Zora.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Zora.”

“I know a place with even better cupcakes than the ones I stole from you earlier. It’s located a couple of blocks from here in the village. Care to join me?”

That was the beginning of a now six month affair that we often refer to as a relationship when we have disagreements. That day he somehow got me to tell him everything I had been through. I recalled my past with Quincy, Brent, and Mark. I didn’t need to go further in the past because all of the outcomes were the same. He understood. He admitted that he had some relationship patterns as well that always led him to the same solitary place of heartbreak.

He told me that he made a pledge to be different. He promised himself that he would never say he loved another woman until he was absolutely sure he meant it. Within one month we were using the L word to express our feelings towards each other. This usually accompanied talk of what our lives would be like together if we decided to settle down and buy a house outside of the city. Spending time with him was better than therapy though it was therapeutic.

I felt like I was getting back to myself. Leigh was also starting to get back to his first love writing. He sent in a draft of a novel he started after the break up with Emma to a small publishing house and they were interested in partnering with him on his first novel. I even began to open up in the meetings. It was weird to talk about my failed relationships in front of the man I was starting a new relationship with. Our first fight was because I felt like he was still in love in Emma, and he thought I was still in love with Quincy.

I knew I didn’t have any feelings for Quincy anymore. I saw him regularly at the radio station. He came in every weekend to do his own show. I was able to talk to him like an old friend. He had a baby and a wife now. I had accepted that I had no place in his life anymore. However, there were times that I would catch Leigh in deep thought rubbing the tattoo on his hand that he got as a representation of Emma. The flowers, love letters, and short stories he spoke of giving to Emma I have still yet to receive. When I bring it up his reasoning is that he did those things because he was trying to be the perfect boyfriend. That bothered me because I was doing everything I could to be the perfect girlfriend for him I thought it made sense that he would in return try to be the perfect boyfriend for me.

Things got worse when I realized the small publishing firm belonged to Emma. She was representing his new book and they had to have several meetings to go over the details. He assured me that it was all business, she had a new man in her life and that I had nothing to worry about because they could never be together again.

Going to the group meetings became harder because I was consumed by a new heartbreak that I couldn’t discuss because it was sitting across from me in the circle. I couldn’t discuss it with Dr. Rae because it was an unspoken rule to not date anyone in the group. Actually, it was suggested as a part of treatment that we shouldn’t date anyone until we had a better understanding of why our other relationships ended the way they did and how we let it affect us. So I held it all in, and began to go through all of the emotions that led me here. I needed a rehab for my rehab.

Last night he left my apartment at midnight because he claimed he had to send in his revisions by Monday and he needed to be in his own space to write. I could not argue with his need to get his work done. At 12:35am a text message notification chimed on my phone. It was a text from Leigh.

“I’m outside. Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t help but think about you all day. Open the door E”

That message was obviously not meant for me.