Crash.

February 7, 2011 § 6 Comments

… I finally glued myself off my chair and ventured into the city to try and walk off the antsy. I paced, and ate and shopped and toured for hours, to no avail. There was only one thing left to try that would help me unwind – one person that is whose existence drummed away at the top of my skull, rendering my ability to focus on anything else to NULL.

I fiddled with the cheap little black matchbox of a phone that I have…  and hit send …

…it had been three days since a rather strange form of interrogation by my friend, lets call her Rory,

…eight or so days since I had stumbled onto his beautiful (albeit exceptionally drunk) eyes on my way home from the lab

….and a couple of weeks prior to the suppose end.

Baldie writes back and we find ourselves face to face, a few minutes later, discussing the improbable. What does it mean that I can’t look away from the rapt stare of his seductive eyes or my deep seated distrusts of any possible future between us… or the mere fact that we are back to the beginning, as if we don’t know how this cup of tea will end…

R’s  grilling was harsh to say the least and aired everything out into the open. It probably deserves a whole separate post… ‘she says you have a tendency to mother’ he recalls…  ‘ … i suppose good friends can be forgiven when they meddle’ we agreed … ‘yes, i suppose they should.’

Somehow having been charred to pieces by questions of intention and ability to care, love and the disection of each of our character flaws, had made it difficult to be anything but real from here on out… perhaps a little bedroom time would help, we reasoned. Perhaps. And somehow this breathed yet another life into this little dance of ours…

I didn’t get home to study until a couple days later in a panic… dear girl, forget everything that’s happened this past few days and STUDY, please – I begged myself.

How will I ever learn PL/SQL in 4 days, How?!

I chucked my phone under the couch for minimal distraction and proceeded – forcing anything unrelated to PL/SQL out of my brain… ending all contact sans the occasional txt hello.

Then came thursday morning.

My exam wasn’t until the afternoon, but I had awaken at 7 to get a head start on the final push. Fast forward an hour and a half later and chirp chirp goes my phone…

In fear of getting distracted, I waited a few minutes to see what it was… but getting a text at 8 am on a thursday morning seemed a tad unusual, … strange, really. …so I pulled myself away from my books for a second, flipped on my phone and read…

‘I almost died’

I read it again, just in case I misunderstood… maybe a joke i thought, an exaggeration, a misuse of the English language…

ok, i’ll bite…  ‘why? what happened? is everything ok?’

‘Car crash’

I replied with a few more questions and show of concern, but secretly hoped it was nothing… at least nothing I could deal with at that moment. No reply ever came.

I studied hard, got dressed, ate… took my four hour exam, looked at my phone again at 5:30pm… still no reply.

‘Is everything ok?’ I wrote … still nothing

I called once… then again… then again…  the repetitive nonsensical jibber jabber of his dutch voice mail message began to send me into a panic.

Where was he? What happened? Why did it take me this long to start to worry… ? Am I worried? …Do I have a right to be worried?

I called again.. it was 12 hours since the news had come in… still nothing.

Finally my phone rings. ‘Are you ok’? I pick up in a panic.  ‘oh M, I don’t even know where to begin…  yes and no, it would seem’

‘I was flying through the air, upside down at 85 miles an hour, right after I hit a car and cement wall… and all I could think was – this is going to hurt. The car flew over the freeway divider and skidded onto oncoming traffic… ‘

‘I saw it all..’ he kept repeating. ‘I saw it all… ‘

‘Are you ok… ‘ I mumbled softly

‘Do you believe in angels? …There was blood and glass and people everywhere… I unbuckled myself and I crawled out from under my mangled hood with but a scratch. What does it all mean… ? Tell me, how do I go on from here… ?’

….Would you have come to my funeral?


‘What can I do?’ I asked hesitantly, for fear of this being our new beginning. ‘Please come hold me.’

That night I held a man in tears, and he my heart… ?


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