Disembodied

Westley

     She wasn't practical. She took the long way home to listen to the radio longer and left the lights on when she slept, but boy was she beautiful.

     When we spent time together we tended to go to museums or stay in and watch indie films. She took many pictures, but never posted them onto social media. Those sites weren't her thing.

     She taught me to live in the moment and to enjoy what you have because honestly, you never know when something would be gone. Truth is, I took her for granted. I didn't appreciate all the nights I had with her or the way her eyes lit up when she bought a new book. I didn't appreciate her philosophies or the way she danced, with her gentle steps and hips swaying. I didn't appreciate her soft kisses and the way she would squeeze my hand a little when she became anxious in a crowded place.

I miss her. I miss the little things she did, but most of all, I miss her presence. I wake up early in the mornings, thinking about how she woke up at five just to hear the birds chirp. She went on walks before the world became hectic with dogs barking and children riding their bikes to school. I drank my morning coffee and thought about how she would sit there and drink green tea, insisting that she would be the one with a healthier heart when we were eighty. Everything I do reminds me of her and I'm not sure how to change that other than waiting and Lord knows how impatient I am.

     I called in sick to work for the third time in a row that week. I planned on going out Friday because all I did the past forty-eight hours was eat potato chips and watch episodes of Friends.

I probably should've bought groceries, but I didn't want to risk being asked how I am doing, since this part of town was small. Instead, I pulled up to the liquor store and bought some cheap cigars and Smirnoff to numb myself later that night. Drinking was a bad habit of mine and so was smoking. She always said she didn't like the taste of my lips after I smoked, but I knew she did because she smiled while we kissed.

     Later that night I went home to my trashed apartment, that she would have insisted me to clean, after going on a walk downtown. It started to rain, but I continued to walk down alleyways and up streets further away from my house. The rain poured down hard so I called a cab and he drove me home. It was a quiet ride to my apartment, but the radio played quietly. Lyrics played in my head as I listened. "Say you'll stay with me forever." Wish I did. "We can make it through whatever." Besides my multiple fuck ups. "Say you'll be my only love." I want her to be my only love. Tim Halperin, you made me miss her even more and made me want to go run to her doorstep and apologize over and over. Thanks.

     Swig after swig until I drank the whole bottle. It burnt slightly going down, but after one too many gulps, my throat was numb and my mind was more alive than my body. I kept going. My throat was numb and my fingers were trembling. Drowning. Tears. More. Passed out.

     I woke up early afternoon on Saturday and looked over to my bedside table to find the Smirnoff bottle empty. My head was still spinning and my chest was burning; the only reason I stood up was to pee.

     I grabbed my box of cigarettes and went out onto the porch to smoke. The smoke blew out of my mouth into the grey skies. Belltown in Seattle was quiet Saturday afternoons because people were all at coffee shops for brunch, that would include Margo. She went every Saturday with her mom.