*Oh, Ashlyn you and your comment.
http://lindaleighblog.blogspot.com/2009/09/hi-i-was-attempting-to-put-my-playlist.html#comment-form
+++
I struggle to keep my eyes open, even though it’s mid afternoon and I’d rather be doing a million things than looking at all the neat piles of paper on the floor. Sofia has a giant calculator and a book of financial summaries from her school.
“I could get a student loan”, she suggests taking another look at the price of tuition, her foot balancing on an empty can of white paint.
“No, we have enough business loans and I’m trying to pay those back before-“
“Okay, well I can do work-study, help pay for my books and—“
“How about the cat”
“What do you mean”, she knows what I’m getting at.
“Sofie, unless you want to eat cat food too, we could save a little money if we gave the cat away”
“No, he is apart of the family”,
“Sofie”
I decide to put that issue aside knowing it would lead to a fight about me wasting my savings on art and wanting her to be more supportive, which would turn to her saying that I don’t want her going to school, which I don’t, because I want her to help me at the studio.
Either way classes started for her this week and we were trying to figure out a plan.
Our predicament is interrupted when the bell (a la Judson’s) rings in the front.
“You should get back to practicing”, I tell her leaving with a spare tattoo machine and a few rotten oranges. I had been teaching her to trace outlines but she had nervous hands.
Tattoo apprentices learn how to tattoo with oranges. I learned that by doing my research by watching those tattooing shows that were popular back in the day. Um, also it’s interesting here that Sof is learning to tattoo. I wish I would have explored that more.
He’s a familiar customer, a cop who wanted a memorial tattoo for his fallen partner. He likes small talk and tells me how the guys at the station like my work, the last thing I want is more cops around here.
Ugh, this random character comes back later as well and makes LiLe wish someone had stolen all the keys off her keyboard.
I nod along to the conversation but I feel that familiar bad taste in my mouth. I try to ignore it but end up excusing myself to throw up my entire breakfast.
“What did you do?” I turn to see Sofia standing at the door
“Nothing”
“You can’t just stop and start taking your meds whenever you want”, here comes another well deserved lecture.
“You know what I don’t understand Sofia, why is it that the medication that’s supposed to help make you feel better worse than the actual disease”
“It’s not supposed to make you feel better; it supposed to prolong your life”
I put on a brave face and finish my client, looking at the finance records on my computer I can see how far away I am from breaking even. My cell phone goes off signaling another round of medications, but I decide to ignore it.
HIV is such a tough disease. Sof wants to believe that if Tomas just follows the rules and takes his medicine he will be fine but it’s never that way.
+++
Sofia
I came home ecstatic from my first week of classes. In my opinion they had ended too soon. I had an early day from classes on Friday so with the help of a map and good luck I found my way to the Museum of Modern Art, or as the locals call it the MoMA, I had heard so much about in an Art History class I was taking and wanted to have something to add the conversation. I hadn’t expected to pay but if you were going to see a Van Gough.
Wow, I can't believe it never occurred to me to have a seen of Sofia on campus or in a classroom. She should have had at least one or two group projects.
It
was strange I lived in an area populated with artist but I couldn’t
connect their random eclectic expressions to the large gold framed
pictures that hung here. I navigated my way over to Starry Night,
a little shocked at how small it was.
I spent an hour looking around trying to get my money’s worth but I found myself interested not only in the pictures but the people as well.
On my way out I passed an advertisement on the counter. The woman behind the desk noticed me.
“Hi, would you like to buy a membership ? for 50 dollars you get free entry for a year and you would be helping to support the Arts”
I smiled till she finished her little script and turned on my heels to leave, but something pulled me back.
“Sure”
I took out the check book for my school account and wrote a check. The woman smiled the whole time and once the transaction was complete she handed me a welcome packet, with information and a thank you for supporting card.
“So, can I use my free admission now?”
She smiles at me, “Stay as long as you like”
And I do.
Okay, so I think it’s great for Sof to have an outlet from all the stuff she deals with at home. Now I try to through a wrench into the plot.
+++
Something was different
I looked around the apartment carefully; nothing seemed out of place and Charleston came out of his favorite hiding under the table to greet me. Then I realized what it was.
Nothing was out of place.
I pushed the bedroom door open and Tomas was still asleep. I reached over to wake him, his body was warm and flushed.
“Tomas, wake up were going to the hospital”, he mumbles something in coherent and I see his cellphone has 8 missed calls.
“It’s. . .nothing. . .new meds…”, he turns his head back into the pillow.
I decide to call his doctor anyways but get tied up with a nurse who tells me that it probably is just the new combination of medicine the doctor is trying. I try to remember some of my nursing training but it all goes out the window when it’s someone you know.
I get some ice water from the kitchen but he says he’s to tired to drink it. I return his clients phone calls, working with needles he doesn’t like to tell people that he’s infected, so I use “under the weather” as an excuse. Once I’ve rescheduled everyone I brave going back into the bedroom.
See, Past LiLe you could have focused more on how Tomas deals with running a business while being sick. I mean just look how Sof has to pitch in. No, instead you went in all sorts of odd directions.
“Have you been sleeping all day?” I ask setting down a glass of ginger ale
“I feel like shit”, he knocks the glass over and I’m not sure if it’s on purpose or not.
Charleston and I curl up on the couch in the living room to eat dinner. I get some homework done and realize that I have the weekend to look forward to. I decide to get some cleaning done but I imagine he’s not going to sleep through the night.
I wonder if I should be there ?
Wait, I've had to reformat this entire section so I'm not sure what's going on here.
I hear him call my name and see that Tomas has gotten out of bed and staggering towards me.
“I want to go to the hospital”, he is still in a white shirt and jogging pants but they are damp from sweating.
Oh, he only wants to go when HE wants to go not when Sof suggest it. I had no idea Tom was such a jerk.
“No, it’s just your medication”, I remember what the nurse said and lead him back to bed, “I’m going to take these off, okay”
“No”, he protest, “I don’t want you fucking touching me”
“Tomas”
“Fuck off”
I don’t have to be told twice but open the window to let some cold air in
“I didn’t even know you went to see your doctor, you should have told me”
He flicks me off and I can’t help but to suppress a smile. I hope he regrets this whole episode in the morning. That was the first night I decided to sleep on the couch.
Okay, I know Tomas is being a jerk here but he is seriously going through a hard time. I mean what this really shows is that Tomas did something without consulting Sofia and now he is suffering for it. He starts to realize how much he needs her.
+++
It’s like night and day, the next morning he shows no signs of last night. I know I can’t make him take his medicine but I drop hints by leaving it lying out.
“Are you going to work?”, I ask from my spot on the couch
“Yeah, I might need your help so. . . “
“Okay”
I’m pretty sure help is code for something but I don’t dwell on it. He sits down at the kitchen table with a glass of water, checking his e-mail. I can’t help but to notice how much looser his shirt hangs, his face has a few more fine lines. I imagine every hard night takes something away.
“Also, we’re going to church on Sunday”
Eh, so demanding. Do you want readers to like you Tomas ?
“Why ?”
I hadn’t been to church since my mother’s holy streak when I was thirteen. Angeline sometimes went for holidays or weddings and I doubt I would understand a Catholic service.
“Because it’s important to me, okay. You don’t have to take communion or anything”
“Okay”
When we get to the Studio I start working on some financial papers but half the time I’m trying to figure how much his life insurance will cover. He’s restarted working on the coffin, this time using dark blue, greys and blacks.
No idea where he got Life Insurance from. Also I should probably have mentioned the coffin again.
It used to scare me, the thought of having that thing so close. I feared death and what it would mean for him what it meant for my mom. Maybe this was why he wanted to go to church, he just to be sure there really was something afterwards.
I guess I needed that too
+++
Church was certainly and experience but I was glad it was a distant memory during my afternoon visit to the museum on Monday.
It was a nice church in the neighborhood they had two services one in Spanish and one in English. The congregation was very open and like us, had fallen on some hard times. There were lots of families and young couples.
Listening to the sermon, to me, was like being in a lecture. I could understand, delimit and possible take something away from it but I felt like I was lacking in the faith the others had. We were invited to dinner at some of the members houses but the thoughts of crowds of people and children during flu season we thoughtfully declined.
I had decided to stop by Starbucks and grab a tea before walking to the MoMa. I was considering calling Tomas to see if got up this morning but if he didn’t and I called he would accuse me of treating him like a child, of course if he did manage to make it to work it meant he wasn’t taking his meds.
She
knows him so well. This is such a Catch 22 for Tom. Although Sof is
also out chilaxing on a Monday morning instead of studying or working. Or at school why do I never have her in class.
I considered calling and saying that I forgot something in the apartment, just to see where he was, when someone knocked into me. I resisted the urge to curse as the dark and hot tea stained my chiffon blouse.
Why does she have a chiffon blouse even though they are super-broke? So it can be dry cleaned ! Also this scene should have totally been in that Other Thing. Spilled hot tea, art, expensive clothes there is something there.
“I am so sorry”, there was an accent I wasn’t used to.
I looked up and saw a man handing me a fistful of napkins, he had a mess of blonde hair and deep brown eyes that were similar to my own. I can already feel the liquid seeping in, so I don’t bother with the napkins. I’m also a little distracted
“British?”, I ask noting his accent.
“English, actually”, he corrects me,” Let me get you another tea”
Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t have corrected her since he is politically considered British. But English is a more regionalized term. He is from England. It just sounds like something a cute Brit would say in a RomCom Y/Y ?
“No, it’s okay”
Why did I have to get the largest size.
“I insist, I was wrapped up in thought."
I followed him over to the register, might as well show that not all Americans are rude.
“I’ll have coffee, no room and . . .”
After he finishes his order he looks to me and I realize I’m staring at him.
Cause he is a hottie !
“Um. Venti Roobios ?”
Hmm, SBUX had just introduced this variety.
“Are you sure?”
“What?”
“It just seemed like you were asking”
I waved it off and sit down waiting for my drink but before I can get up he brings it to me.
So, in the blog post I mentioned that I but something unrealistic in it and it’s that Sofia sits down after ordering to wait for them to call her name. But as you Starbucks fans know they make the tea and black coffee (What Adam orders) at the register.
“You really didn’t have to pay for this”, I start reaching for my wallet.
“No, it was my fault; I can also pay for the dry cleaning for your blouse”
I suddenly remember that my shirt is soaked; I cover it with my coat and hope it’s not see through.
“It’s fine, I got it from a second hand store, I’ll just have to skip the MoMA today”, Why did I say that?
“Oh, are you a tourist?”
I sprinkle a few sugar packets in my tea, realizing I should have left a while ago.
“No, I guess I live here now. I’m a student and Hudson River, I just like going there. I’m thinking of majoring in Art History .
This actually reflects on her relationship with Tomas because he is an artist.
“Well, you just happen to run into one of the million artist in New York who just happens to be a HRU alumni”
He
certainly didn’t look like the artist I had come accustomed to in my
neighborhood. He was dressed rather plainly in khakis and a
blue pullover fleece. I hate to say it but he looked so normal.
You know, as opposed to all those tattoo-hipster types in Williamsburgs.
“Well, I get my fair share living in Williamsburg”
“Why would you choose to live over there?”
“My husband is an artist—well he does tattoos which is kind’ve like art. I suppose he’s pretty good”
He chocked a little on his coffee at the word husband and I realize I was still wearing gloves. I wonder if I’ll ever reach the age where I don’t seem “too young”
“Are you okay”, I ask
“Yeah, it’s just-“
“I know”, I said, “I look to young to be married. Well thanks for the tea. . . I’m sorry I don’t know your name”
“Adam Roberts”
“Oh, Sofia Alexander”
“What’s your maiden name?” he asked uncertainly, as if I’d be offended
Guys out there, this is not a good pick up line. Only works in fiction.
“Madigan, so, I’m sorry what kind’ve artist are you?”
He turns and places one hand on a guitar case I hadn’t even noticed he was carrying.
“A musician”, I say out loud
“Yeah, but I went to school to become a finical advisor . . . but I deviated. One of my friends set me up with a job at Genworth and I was trying to figure out whether to take it or not and dealing with my family wanting me to get a real job. . . anyway that’s why I bumped into you.”
I was somewhat stilted at his use of the word family, a word I never used often and if I did I was never sure what context it fit in.
“It must be hard being away from your family?”
“Mostly, but my brother is in the states now, works for the UN, what about your family ?”
Hmm, this brother shows up later doesn’t he. . . why why ?
“I was a foster child, my foster mom, sister and I were close until I moved out. We sort of lost touch. I guess I was tired of being on my own and Tomas, my husband, met me and after a while we decided to get married. We separated for a bit but we decided to start over in the city and I’ve always wanted to go to college, so I guess to answer your question. I guess I don’t have one”
Sofia should really write the recaps for these.
I liked this version of how I ended up here, no mention of my mother committing suicide, getting shot, being hurt, shotgun marriage, prison time, drugs, arson or AIDS.
“That’s sad”, you have no idea, “but at least you have Tomas, is it.”
“Yeah, but he’s trying to get his business off the ground and I’m trying to help. I think he wants me to reconnect with my foster Sister, Severinr, but I guess I’d rather we tried connecting with each other more, oh shit, I’m sorry I’m giving a complete stranger my sob story. This isn’t like me at all”, I don’t know if it’s the heat of the coffee but I feel embarrassed.
Hmm, didn’t realize how much Sofia cursed in this one. Cause when Sofia curses things get. . . well this one was pretty neutral.
“It’s okay, I told you mine”
I hadn’t realized choosing between a well paying job and music was a sob story but I could try to understand.
I got up from the table, realizing that my cup was nearly empty. He follows me outside and I realize he must be leaving too. Once we are both outside we both turn to go in our opposite directions. I can feel the chill of the wet fabric against my chest.
“Sofia”
I turn to see him facing me; I’m not going to lie my heart leaps a little
“Yeah”
“Let me pay for the dry cleaning, consider it the famed English charm”
“Fine”, I scribble my number down on my first receipt but he takes out his phone,”Oh”. I call myself on his phone and wait for the ring before giving it back to him with a smile
+++
Instead of heading back to Brooklyn I figure I might as well stop by and visit Severine and borrow a shirt from her. I send her a quick text and she gives me the address of her apartment and offers to pay for cab fare.
Not ready to have someone else owe me, I take the subway and arrive in front of a what looks like a brand new glass apartment building on Murray street. It’s surrounded by quaint cafes and and boutiques. The doorman greets me and opens the door.
Was I really in the same city?
He sends me up to Severine’s apartment after letting her know I had arrived. After riding in the elevator with a woman and her two fluffy dogs I step on to a sleek floor with large glass windows. I can see a little bit of water and what must be New Jersey.
“Down here”, I see Severine wave from down the hall.
After seeing the view and the lobby I’m not that surprised by the contemporary leather furniture and plasma screen TV not to mention more stainless steel appliances than I know what to do with. I close the door while Severine reemerges from her bedroom taking out hair rollers; she has a stack of shirts in hand.
“How about this one ?”, she holds up a pink chiffon one that is similar to the one that’s messed up.
“It’s perfect thanks”
After I change I see Severine has set out two lean cuisines and diet cokes.
Sterotypical SWF meal. In my mind they are Alfredo Lean Cuisines and cans of Coke. You know if you want to know the interesting stuff.
“Stay for lunch !”
“Well, I was going to the MoMA”
“Oh, what’s there?”
“Nothing, I just like to look”
I remove the film from what appears to be fettuccine with broccoli.
Oh, score I was close without reading ahead. *high fives past self*
“So what happen to your shirt ?”, she looks comfortably out of place in her yellow yoga pants and matching tank top, like she’s not in a 6,000 dollar a month apartment.
“This guy at the coffe shop knocked into me. . . he said he wanted to pay for it so.”
“That explains it”
“explains what ?”
“Why you’ve been looking at your phone so much”
I wasn’t though, I still wanted to stop by the museum before it closed, didn’t I ?
“Is not”
“Tell me about him”
“Fine, he might just be your type. He’s English blonde hair, brown eyes and he’s a musician. He graduated from HRU so he must be 22 or older”
Ya know, I don’t think I ever state Adam’s age. Well He’s 25. I think Sofia is 20 in this and Tom is like 21. JSYK
“And all this was written on his coffee cup ?”
“We talked a little, it’s called making friends”
“Sofia, Sofia, Sofia”, I hate it when people did that, “that whole dry-cleaning bit, he was trying to get your number. . .and he sounds nice”
“He knows I’m married. I know I’m married and it really was an accident, lets talk about something else like your amazing apartment”
She decides to give me the grand tour which involves one guest room that we spend the most time in, 2 full bathrooms a stainless steel kitchen with a breakfast nook. On my way out she shows me the gym and residents lounge which looks like a modern club.
“Here”, she says handing me my ruined shirt as the doorman hails a cab, “you might want to get this cleaned.”
“Thanks”, I give her a hug because being with her is like a little vacation from the ordinary. Time really can heal all wounds, “We should have lunch next week”, I decide to show her I still wanted a relationship
“And shopping !”, she adds
I get in the Taxi and wait until she is out of view before sending the taxi on without me and head for the subway.
II
I bundled up in my scarf and gloves making my way from the subway to the studio, It was late and since there were no clients Kasey was working on finishing Tomas’s sleeve, with his free hand he was smoking what looked like a joint. I noticed Eric and Maddie were also there.
Oh, Eric and Maddie. You two just won’t go away. Kasey I don't mind you so much. I think he says like on thing in chapter 7 or 8 ?
It was strange, Tomas knew them from when he first moved here and even though they were nice I always felt that they were his
friends and I was intruding. I knew Eric was a grad student in physics
at Columbia and gave me some tips about being a student in the city.
His girlfriend Maddie was an actress and liked talking about her stint as an extra on Law and Order.
They all seemed disappointed to see me when I came through the door and I somewhat regretted it too. Despite how less than tradition we were I was still considered “The Wife”.
Tomas motioned for me to come closer, I silently obeyed and he pulled me down to kiss me, he was always got affectionate when he was high, at least I know he got rid of the tongue ring.
Probably cause the doctor told him to not because of Sofia
I excused my self to the restroom. Taking a tissue I wiped my eyes before they could tear up, I didn’t even know why I was upset. I opened my eyeglass case and chewed a few Valium. I was running low on the drugs I had taken from Angeline’s house but I’d convinced my self that I wouldn’t need them.
Oh yeah, that prescription drug problem from Spirits ? Still happening. I think I have officially broken the cutie Y/N ?
“Honey, I’m leaving”, I heard Tomas called to me.
What is this “Honey” ? Oh right, so Tomas is suffering from AIDS Dementia Complex (ADC) which gets mentinoed in letter form only. So he call Sofia by pet names. I looked up a
list of them and none of them worked as well as “love”. Honey just really doesn't fit
I open the door and he was standing right in front of me, he moves passed me and for a second we are standing very close to each other face to face. He moves and flushes the roach down the drain.
“Give me a minute?” I ask waiting for the Valium to kick in.
“Sure”, he says running his hand over my cheek, down my neck stopping just between my breasts, “I’ll be outside”
I wait until his footsteps are faint before running some cold water over face but the smell of marijuana is already stuck to my coat. After a few minutes I walk through the dark studio to where he is waiting.
We reach for each others hand smiling in our own drug induced euphoria.
This is close Sof, but I don’t think it was metaphoric enough to be a good one-liner.
+++
I was wrong, the valium didn’t kick in till later. Later every word had doubled its meaning. Meaning I wasn’t sure what exactly what I was saying. Saying I didn’t enjoy it would be a lie.
Yeah,
I did a “thing” here. See how the last word of each sentence starts the
next sentence. I was trying to be classy. It works, but this whole
scene was just so toxic for the characters . There was not turning back.
I wish this scene had been less traumatic.
One innocent kiss after dinner led to a longer, warmer wetter one. I could feel my fingers running through his hair that was far to long but felt just right. Everywhere he touched me, he kissed me. I copied his movements, not quite sure where this was going.
With his eyes closed he whispered to me, “I want you”, pressing himself against me to prove his point, “Can I have you, love ?”
I realize at this point I’m supposed to answer. I was lucid enough to say no.
“Yes”, barley escapes my lips
He placed small kisses down my neck again and looks me right in the eye, the scent of cigarettes, rosewater and amber are overwhelming. I hadn’t even notice we were in the bedroom.
“You’re on something aren’t you?”
“Honestly”, I pulled him down closer if that was even possible, “I don’t think I could do this any other way,”
My mind knew it was different but my body didn’t have that luxury. I tried to register all the feeling, emotions and sensations but it’s all too much. The weight of his body on me, oh God, in me.
I let out a breath of helplessness, hating the familiar feel of latex, that I now realize could be taken the wrong way. I remind myself that I have a choice now; I can stop this whenever want all I have to do is get the nerve to speak.
I tightly close my eyes and detach just trying to breath till it’s over. I honestly thought I was imagining it and it’s like karma or something but he actually says it.
“You’re perfect”
So this goes WAY back to Lost Angels. I had been doing a bit of re-reading at that point and I wanted to toss in a trigger (in this case those words) as to not distance Sofia from who she was in that story.
I actually started to cry
Beeeeeeeep !
I snap my attention back to the microwave and with a hand mitt grab the hot water and set a nice blooming tea in it. I hear footsteps from behind and I expect him to do something horribly clichéd like put his arms around my waist and kiss me or ask me how I slept but he doesn’t.
You know, they could save a lot more money if they drank less tea and more drank water. Also a tea lover like Sof would have a tea kettle.
For a while the only sound is the clinking of bowls, glasses and the splash of milk.
“You cried”, he finally says
“I did not”, think you noticed
“It’s just nothing hurt a guy self confidence then making a woman cry during se-“
“I’m sorry, I swear it wasn’t you.”
“Was it something I did? I mean I as-”
“No”, I considered the merits of being truthful, “it was something you said”
Wow, Sofia. If you considered the merits of being truthful early on this would have been a lot shorter.
“What”, he reached for my hand, I held it together for maybe a minute before I started crying, salting my cheerios. “You don’t have to tell me”
Cherrios, please these two are surviving on Honey O’s
I hide my face in my hands, I can’t imagine how ridiculous I look. I hear his chair move and feel a warm hand on my back.
“I. . .I. .”, I can barley get out another I’ m sorry and I know it’s everything else.
"You never have to go through that again.", he said, "Fuck, baby you’re shaking maybe you should stay home”
“No”, I push him away, “This is not my home”
I can’t help but to raise my voice, Charleston dives for his place underneath the table.
“This is just a place that we live, this is the place where you’re going to die, this isn’t’ my home Tomas, I don’t have one and you know what ? I want to go home so badly”
“Emma-“
“What?”
“Fuck, I mean…” he looks lost for a minute, “Sofia. Calm down. Okay I get it clearly you’re a very traumatized girl, maybe you should consider watching all those pills you take. So, will you just calm the fuck down.”
Can you imagine forgetting why you are dying so young.
I take a deep breath count to ten and decide to head to school early. I grab my school books and quickly leave before I make another little scene. I reach in my pocket for my metrocard when my cell phone rings; I don’t even look at the number.
“Yes”
“Is this Sofia ?”
“Yes ?”
“Oh, this is Adam Roberts, I spilled tea on you and wanted to ask about the bill. . .”
“I told you it was no big deal”
“Yes, but your sister called me, she insisted. I can meet you at the MoMa and we can take care of this”
I was never telling Severine anything again, or leaving her alone with my cell phone
Wait, do they exchange numbers ? Oh, Sev text him with Sof's phone because Sofia shows her the number
“Okay fine, I’m about to lose service how about at 4 ?”
“That’s fine, have a nice day”
“You too”
Looks at that. Sofia is navigating in this city by herself.
+++
It’s prime rush hour downtown by the museum, but I stand outside and wait, hot chocolate in hand I see a familiar figure walking towards me.
“Hey, Sofia”, he says, “Is it okay if we go inside, it’s kinda cold”
“Sure, Adam”
I discard my cup and we step into the warm space, I had been planning on going inside anyways.
“How much”, he ask reaching for a wallet
“I should have told you this on the phone but it’s really no big deal, you don’t owe me”
Or she could have, you know sent a text.
“Alright, at least let me pay your admission we’ll call it even”
“I get in free, I have a membership”, I say making it sound like a bigger deal that it is, “my guest get in for only five if you want to come ?”
Um, I have no idea if this is true.
*Research*
So it looks like MoMa memberships are 85$. . . and. . . hmm look at that guest really do get in for 5$
He looks at his watch
“Sure why not”
Once admitted we walk around the lobby a bit and I wonder if he expects me to stay with him or if I should leave.
“So, what do you like?”, he ask looking at the gallery descriptions
“I think Jackson Pollack is pretty interesting”, thinking back to the last time I was here.
“Very messy”
“See, I like the Colorist”
“I’m sorry?”
He takes me up to a gallery I haven’t been to yet and to a painting that looks like a little blocks of color, it’s very simple.
“See”, he says pushing me a little closer, “it’s like music. The painting isn’t about the artist or where he’s been like Pollack, it’s about the paint and the painting. I mean you can write one badass song but it shouldn’t be about you, it should be about the music.”
“That’s unnervingly insightful . . . Finance major?”
“Okay, I skimmed the brochure, so is this like your favorite museum?”
“What do you mean ?”
“I mean have you ever been to the Met or Guggenheim. They are all tourist must-sees”
“Not yet, I guess”
“We should go this weekend”
I finally see what’s going on here. I was good at rejecting people.
“Look Adam, I told you I’m mar-“
“As friends, you seem like you could use more friends.”
That was true.
“I have to help Tomas at the studio this weekend, how about Monday”
“I have a gig”
“gig?”
“What, I’m a real musician. How about Tuesday? You can even bring Tomas”
“Right, Tuesday’s good”
See, Adam is trying to be a good guy here. He has good intentions.
+++
We need to talk
The four words that anyone in a couple or anyone for that matter doesn’t want to hear.
We need to talk.
I read the note Tomas had left me on Sunday morning looking for meaning other than those 4 words. He just announced he wasn’t going to church last night and now there was a note.
Charleston purred happily as another cat food commercial came on, I was to preoccupied to think that he might be hungry. I stare blankly at the news when the door opens. He looks surprised to see me. He is wearing his usually black jeans and button up shirt, exposing part of the ornate cross he had put on his neck, he called it advertising.
Okay,
so I’ve never had a Cat. I think I may have over done it with the Cat
purring because of a commercial. That would be cute though. I bet there
is a youtube video like that.
“What is it?” I ask shutting of the TV earning a meow from Charleston.
Cats do that right ? GRETA ?
He doesn’t bother to sit down or take my hand and I honestly wonder if he is leaving.
“I’m not going to be taking my meds anymore”
“Where were you ?”
“I talked to my doctor, he said it could take months to figure out the right regiment, that wont’ make me sick. I mean, I have to work and do other things, the drugs are slowing me down”
Uh, pretty sure his doctor is female later on.
“And. ..”
“If the drugs aren’t keeping up my, um. . . shit”
“T-cells it will make you venerable to opportunistic infections that will kill you.”
“Yes, exactly what he said”
“What’s your T-cell count?”
“mmm. . .”, he closes his eyes for a minute and hands me a piece of paper from his pocket.
“So are you telling me that you are making the decision to slowly end your life ?”
“Do you like seeing me sick, love? I mean the meth and other shit makes me feel better than those Antirevolusion-“
“Antiretrovirals ? And if you’ve already made a choice then why are you telling me ?”
“Because it means that I might not have as long as we planned”
“I honestly don’t want to start a fight but why is it that one minute you are afraid of death and me being alone and the next minute a little pain and suffering stops you from wanting to be with me or alive for that matter.”
He runs the back of his hand across his lips, looking for more words I assume.
“I just don’t like being able to do what I want to do. And these meds cost so much money. If anything happens and I’m with you just let it happen. I mean, Sweetheart, I barley get to control so much with this disease let me control how I die, please. Promise me. If something happens no hospitals or CPR”
“Can you just think about it a little longer?”, Charleston lays down in my lap and purrs protectively.
“I mean it’s not like I have HIV or anything what’s the point of finding the right drug if it’s too late?”
Oh, that’s right. I keep forgetting Tomas (as sited in FS Section 5) has AIDS not HIV. So that makes this story that much sadder.
“Every little bit helps, please I need a little bit longer”, I can’t muster the strength to fake cry so I wipe my eyes a little followed by an impromptu hug.
“Okay, just till I finish these, then that’s it”, he kisses me on the cheek.
I never made any promises.
Okay, this promising not to revive him comes back in chapter 8.
.