WHAT HAPPENS TO THE HEART

NOW.I

NOW. I

You weren't expecting HER to join me in telling the story, did you? I bet you were thinking it's going to be just my sappy story about how I can't move on. Well, I guess you could still say that. But it's also going to be kind of funny in places. And hella' crazy. In any case, I am really happy that Nat's part of this. As she should be. This was never just about me. It was about us.

I woke up shivering, jumped from the bed panting like I had just ran a bunch of stairs. Last thing I recalled? What I mentioned before – we were in the car and whatever had happened next, it spun us into a blur. And there I was, waking up, jumping from my bed.

Ok. The craziness is starting. Here we go. I woke up in my old apartament. An apartament I hadn't been in for over ten years. What struck me at first was how similar it still was to how I used to decorate it. Down to my poster still hanging on the wall in the bedroom. But that didn't make any sense cause that poster should have been at my house. At the house that I now lived with Nat.

Was I dreaming? For a good while I believed that I was. I got close to the mirror, trying to look at myself and to my horror I could see someone moving in the reflection. Had she been in the bed with me all that time? How the hell did we both get here? I decided to wake her up.

As I turned around towards the bed, I screamed. I might have also peed my pants a bit. The girl in the bed was not Nat. No, it was Christine. My ex – Christine. Now happily married and with a baby on the way – Christine. My ex that I hadn't seen in at least three years – Christine. What the fuck did I do? How did I get here with Christine?

Christine lay in the bed, naked, sleeping and somehow unaware of my yell. I could start to feel my legs failing me. I was close to fainting. I stumbled my way towards the bathroom, turned on the water and tried to put my head under it. It was cold, it felt nice. But for each drop of pleasure, the dread of what was happening to me would flood back. I raised my head from the sink and my own reflection welcomed me from the mirror. Did I shave? When the fuck did I shave? I looked weird without a beard. Like a baby. Or, you know, a younger guy.

I just couldn't process what was going on and I felt worse by the minute. I have no idea for how long I had stared in that mirror, but at some point, the light in the bathroom turned on. Christine entered, looking sleepy but unfazed like we weren't just in the craziest, most fucked up situation ever.

She came up, gave me a kiss and then sat on the toilet, peeing.

I lost my shit. I could barely utter the words:

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Hm? Oh sorry, I thought you didn't mind this. I should have asked."

"What, what – what are we doing here?"

"I just couldn't hold it any longer. Just get out if I'm grossing you out. We can jump in the shower later."

"Jump in the –" I was stuttering more and more.

"Hey, you ok?" she asked, suddenly paying a bit more attention to me.

"Am I ok? I'm really not ok! Christine? What is this? What are we doing here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did we do this? Where's Paul?"

"Who's Paul?"

Paul is her husband.

"You know - Paul, your husband?"

"My husb – what??"

"Aw, shit. What's Nat going to say about all this?"

"Hey, who the fuck is Nat? And who's Paul?"

"She's going to be so mad," I said quietly, to myself more than to Christine.