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.

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