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Even when Peter tried to kill me, I hadn't felt heart ache like this.
It was almost like my heart had broken into tiny jagged pieces that were floating around my chest and slicing at my insides. When I had finally gotten around what on earth happened the night before, all I felt was a strange emptiness and fogginess in my brain.
You stuffed up.
My dreams for the whole weekend and today, Monday, had been haunted by the defeated expression Jamie had worn the last time I'd seen him, piercing blue eyes full or hurt and sadness that managed to suck you into them, make you feel what he felt.
As a result, my sleep had been almost non existent, and I walked around the hospital looking like a zombie.
"You look like one of the patients, walking like that, wearing that expression. What's up?"
It was Jasmine, having returned from her two week work break. She sits down at the lunch table I was currently eating at, and takes my hand. "Heidi, come on. What's wrong? What happened?"
"Jamie happened."
Her eyes widen. "What do you mean? Did he break up with you?"
I think about it. Technically, he hadn't. We'd just had a... fight? It wasn't really a fight - we weren't arguing over something, we just - broke?
I decide to go with "I don't really know what happened."
"Just retell the story, everything I missed."
I oblige, recounting all the way from the festival date (which Jazz happily squealed at) to the infamous movie night disaster.
Once I'm done, Jasmine just looks at me, shocked.
"What do I do?" I ask her.
"Well, do you still want to be with him?"
"Of course I do I-" I stop myself, because I'd responded without even thinking, but it was the truth, I didn't want to finish things with Jamie. "I do." I say.
"Well....we gotta fix it...somehow," says Jazz, fiddling with her fork.
She starts again. "Look, to me, it seems he didn't get to finish what he was saying - he totally bailed out on you, and, chances are, he's mulled over exactly what his problem is, and has effectively calmed down." She looks at me. "And, hopefully you've done exactly the same thing - yes?"
"No?"
"Well, from what we know he doesn't like how...flighty you are, and it's only half your fault. You gotta keep going at it Heidi, I mean, you've achieved a lot, letting yourself trust him and stuff...maybe you just hadn't allowed yourself a break to catch up with it all and...I don't know, got overwhelmed?" She looked at me, chocolate eyes, imploring.
"You know, that sounds about right."
"Oh honey, I'm always right about this stuff."
"Ok keep going, what else?"
"Well, we know roughly what his problem is, but what's yours?"
"Mine?"
"As in, with him. What's the flaw that played a role here."
I stare into the distance. "Well, the fact he didn't even give me a chance to explain myself, or give me a second chance, kinda sucked. I know it seems unreasonable, but I almost felt like too much was expected of me from him, even though it's a normal amount for most girls and stuff - for normal couples to do."
"So... he got a little hot headed?"
"Yeah, that's the word."
"Well, there's really only one thing to fix this, and you know what it is," said Jazz, looking at me accusingly.
"I have to talk to him?"
"Correct."
"Ok..." I swallow. "How?"
Just then, Jazz's pager buzzes. She immediately began putting her food away. When the hospital paged you, you went straight away.
"I don't know exactly Heidi, I can't do everything for you - I've gotta go, but I'll catch you later - have fun solving your problems!"
As it turns out, a few hours later as I walked in the door after finishing me shift, the answer had been handed to me. Or really, slid under my door. I managed to stop myself before I stood on the flyer adverting the latest local production, opening show tonight. There was only one person who could have possibly put this under the doormat.
Jamie.
And there was only one thing that could possibly be meant by him having slipped this flyer underneath my door - he wanted me to come see the opening night, and it also probably meant he wanted to talk to me. The thought of this made my stomach clench, but at the same time some sort of excitement was rising up inside me. I loved watching shows, and being able to watch Jamie in all his performer glory would be amazing - and, I'll admit, even though it had only been a few days since the fight, I really missed him.
"Doors close at 7:15pm for a 7:30 start, tickets available at the door."
I glance at the time - 5:30. How convenient. Just enough time to have a small meal and get ready to watch a show - shower and make up included.
There's no rest for the wicked. I grab some left over stir fry from the fridge, warm it up, and eat. As I do this I contemplate exactly what I plan on doing. Am I just going to watch the show and leave? Should I talk to Jamie? Should I let him find me? Who's fault is all this anyway? What do I say? When do I say it?
Once I'm in the shower I decide to stop freaking out over everything like I usually do and decide to take things one step at a time. Finish showering, get changed, brush hair, do make up, grab my purse, and go. Rather guiltily I assure myself that if Jamie wanted me at the show, he can make the first move. I decide to hail a taxi to take me to the show instead of using my car, it was always too busy in the city at night.
Before I knew it, I had purchased my ticket and was seated in the theater, in a not a bad seat, considering I bought tickets at the door. Fifteen minutes later, the show had begun. All I knew was that Jamie played a semi-important character in the play, so he wasn't in every single scene. But in the ones he did appear in, I struggled to pay attention to what was happening, and more so spent time staring. Jamie's blonde hair shone like a golden halo under the stage lights, his tall, slim body was animated with dramatic movement, but his eyes were the most shocking part. From what I could tell he'd lined them in some kind of darker eyeliner, and as a result his eyes contrasted with the make up and stood out, piercing the crowd whenever he spoke out to the audience. It seemed he'd been allowed to keep his accent for the play, and used it in an exaggerated way to create some kind of english drawl that sounded amazing. I only broke out my trance when a five minute intermission was called. I had no reason to leave my seat so I decided to just think. I knew for sure now that whether it was tonight or next week, Jamie and I had to talk. And, depending on how that goes, if we could go back to how things used to be. Sure, it might be a little pathetic of me, but I knew I wanted nothing more but to be with Jamie again, I didn't want this to be the end.
A bell signals the end of intermission, and I turn my attention back to the stage as the lights dim and the chatter dies down. Since Jamie was in the last scene, he appears again, but this time he's changed into blue jeans and a black jacket that clung to his slim frame, golden hair tousled and gleaming. Again, I find myself mesmerised. The show continues on and I find myself pulled in by the rather tragic story line. By some seemingly god-given co-incidence, Jamie's character is heart broken, and, sitting down on the stage, feet dangeling over the edge, Jamie's character strums his guitar and begins to sing.
I loved listening to Jamie just talk, but singing, it was even more amazing - his deep, smooth voice full of heart ache and sadness, and with a jolt I realise that, Jamie was being real. How could I be so foolish to think I was the only one hurting? No, it seemed Jamie had been hurting just as I had, and it was all coming out now. His face contorted on the high and low notes, eyes full of passion and pain searching the crowd until, by some miracle, they find mine.
I am locked in his gaze, not able to look away if I wanted to, as Jamie finishes off his final note, eyes seemingly boring into my soul. Jamie stands, and walks off the stage. The next scene begins, but I'm no longer able to focus on what is happening, I just stare blankly at the stage - uncomprehending.
A few scenes later, the show ends, and I applaud with the rest of the crowd as the actors come back on stage and take their bows. When it is Jamie's turn to bow, he shoots a huge, gleaming smile at the crowd, and mid bow, shoots me a look, only to stand again, give a wave, and exit the stage.
What did that mean?
I walk out of the theater with the rest of the audience, and step into the hall where people chatter and laugh about the show they've just watched. I linger for a little, and realise that Jamie wouldn't be leaving for a while - having to rid himself of his stage make up and change, and I exit the building, and stand in the humid heat of a Perth summer night, phone at my ear to call for a taxi.
"I'm sorry miss, tonight is a busy night, you'll have to wait at least 10 minutes before a taxi is available for you. Is this ok?"
"That's fine, I'm in no hurry," I say, and hang up, switching my phone onto a game app to pass the time being. People walk around me, laughing and chatting with friends, I can't help but sigh a little as a giggly couple walk past, holding hands. My phone buzzes, and the taxi company is calling.
"Hello?"
"Hello miss, there's been a taxi booking cancellation, there should be a taxi soon"
"Oh! Thank you."
"No worries, miss."
I put my phone away now, and keep an eye out for a car. Eventually I spot the taxi, and the driver signals for me to stand on the curb.
"How's it goin'?"
"Good, thanks," I say, sliding into the back seat.
"Where to?"
I'm about to answer when I hear someone shout. "Wait!"
That sounds familiar...
A mess of blonde hair darts past my window and stops at the driver's door.
"A cab won't be necessary," puffs a rather flustered looking Jamie, "but there's a group over there that could do with your services."
The drivers looks at me. "Do you know this boy?"
I smile. "Yes, yes I do."
"Well then, outcha get."
I scramble out of the taxi, and it cruises along the road to the group in the distance. I turn, and look at Jamie.
"Wha-"
Jamie takes a finger and presses it to my lips. "Shh. Come with me."
He takes my elbow and leads me back onto the path, and then pulls us into a small, shallow gap between the theater and the next building that homes an energy radiator. He lets me go, and I'm already standing with the wall to my back, and he stands right in front of me.
"I can't believe you came," puffs Jamie
"I can't believe you almost just gave chase to a taxi," I whisper back.
"I had something to say!" Jamie exclaims defensively.
"Then say it."
"I'm sorry for getting mad. It's not your fault."
"It's not your fault either, it's nobody's fault."
"Then why did we fight?"
"We're special."
Jamie looks away. "Ok then, neither of us did anything wrong but I was the one who got mad and made you upset and-"
"Jamie, stop." I take my hand to his face and trace my thumb along his cheekbone, wiping off a smudge of eyeliner. "It's ok."
Jamie's eyes darken minutely, and suddenly he pushes me against the wall, and his lips are on mine - one hand cradles my head so I don't hit it on the wall, and the other runs down my body and rests on my hip, keeping me still. I gasp in surprise but surrender myself to his kiss, revelling in being able to feel his soft lips on mine once again. Not your typical make-up scene, but it's good enough for me I think as my fingers entwine in Jamie's hair. Jamie breaks off.
"I'm," he kisses my forehead, "so," he kisses my nose, "sorry." He pecks me lips, and looks at me. He was looking at me as if I was a bomb about to go off, like I was going to run. But instead I lean in and whisper in his ear.
"I forgive you," I murmur as I kiss his neck, "you silly thing."
Jamie steps back, and holds out his hand. "Well then, let's go back to my car, it's a bit of a walk, mind you."
"As long as your hand stays in mine, I think I'll make it."
*************
Yay they got back together!
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