I should have said something to the confused parking attendant who clearly was wondering if I was a dangerous psycho, or just a harmless psycho. Maybe he thought I was crying because he charges LL7.000 for 1h of parking in Hamra.
All I could do was sit there in my car, smile stupidly, feeling the warm tears flow out as the tension slowly evaporated and my head, as much as my heart, came back to life.
Sir if you’re reading this, please know that there’s nothing wrong with me (well… nothing too dangerous anyway), I was just enjoying my return to life, I’m really sorry for bringing my confusion into your parking lot. I was just at a job interview… and something wonderful happened!
I can’t believe it took so long, what a draining process.
His departure was scheduled, our ending was agreed upon. After that, there would be no reason for us to ever be in the same country again. He asked me to keep some stuff that didn’t fit in his suitcase so we could have them shipped “or something”. I was glad to store the sweaters and jeans, confident that I’ll get a happy ending because 3600 Kate Hudson movies can’t be wrong.
So, as he packed she thought, “shut up, shut up, shut up, or you’ll say it”. Clenching her teeth so hard it hurts, she tried to think of everything else, everything but. She focused on how much she hates his stupid retarded superstitions, how annoying he can be after sex, when she needs a quiet moment, but he plays exalted baroque music on his phone, his exaggerated manners when there’s really no need, how he picks his nose when he thinks she’s not watching.
Shut up, shut up, shut up, think of all these things and do not, under any circumstances, think about how good he always smells, like soap and fresh laundry. Don’t think about his voice, about his storytelling skills, about his eye. Do not think about it, do not tweet it, do not tell your friends about it.
I just wish you could hold my hand for a little longer. It’s quite simple, I want you to hold my hand for a little longer, and at least I’d have that. You never seemed to care and that’s your biggest advantage in that charade. But had I known that earlier, I would still not have behaved any better.
At the same time, I don’t want you around anymore. We’ve been too mean to each other lately.
On the day he left…. well I didn’t handle it very graciously. I was never much of a lady anyway.
For the record, I am not sorry, not at all.
The question is: Were things easier before the age of Facebook, Skype, Twitter and Whatsapp?
Pah! Knowing my determination to behave like an idiot, I would have found a way to send drunken messages via pigeon carriers and smoke signals!
Also for the record: you’re an asshole. You’re an asshole for coming to me every time you needed a shoulder to cry on. You’re a selfish fuckhead for those late night chat sessions when nobody else would listen to you whine. So you had a rough year… well guess what, me too!
Eventually I understood:
I had to invent a life without him.
Even if I had no idea how.
Because I really had no idea how, I took a plane back to Lebanon, and I went to sleep.
Pfffffffffffftttttttttttttt This is the sound of common sense leaving my brain.
For a long time, nothing felt more dramatic than reaching out to his side of the bed and not finding him there. It’s amazing, a person’s ability to feel sorry for themselves, knowing fully well that:
A man leaving you is actually no big deal.
Anyway I digress. The point is, I slept for a long time, and then I woke up one day feeling as numb and dumb and tasteless as a bad Marilyn Manson song.
I thought I might as well get a new job, one I would like. This is how I ended up at this job interview that morning.
There was nothing special about the job or the interviewer. I think I was nervous because I had forgotten how to interact with people, but at some point he said something funny, and I smiled.
And I thought he was cute
And I liked the sound of his voice
And I thought he sounded smart and interesting
And then you left my head – someone else said it better than me – “not with a bang but with a whimper.”(Yeah that’s one more overused and stolen line, sue me).
Maybe the process was long, maybe not that simple, but it ended with a whimper, so soft I almost missed it.
I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I had found anyone cute or hot or interesting. Before I knew, I was (clumsily) flirting, joking, blabbering, laughing.
For the first time in a long time… I felt.
It doesn’t seem like much but it was like an ocean. All this during the job interview.
It was so strong that I had to immediately send my friend a message, to tell her that I liked someone, that I was human again.
It was so strong I needed a moment in that parking lot to be able to think again.
Believe it or not, I did get offered the job. Of course, I didn’t take it, because even I am not stupid enough to put myself in a situation where I think my boss is very attractive.
Really, what a draining process, I’m glad it’s over.
And then, and then what?
When The Hobbit -that unnecessary addition to a franchise I never cared for- came out, I thought of you.
Today I saw the latest episode of How I Met Your Mother and we met the mother!
I bet you liked her: cute, girl-next-door type, sweet. I know that’s your type, I just pretended I didn’t know because… oh I’m sure you understand.
Sometimes, I worry about you. Because real life surely brought you down, far from the cushioned pedestal I built for you. I hope you learned to like your nose. I hope you see bits of what I saw in you. Anyway… you’ve got an alligator smile, the morals of a pirate and a twinkle in your eyes; on your better days you even speak like a prophet and you certainly know how to tell a good joke.
I’m done with that.