"somewhere other than inside the out there." -- part twelve.

i got a card from his mom the other day, and tucked inside were three pictures: one of his little sister, one of his little brother, and one of his second little brother. school type portraits with nice smiles and the best faces of these children that i miss so much. the oldest of the three wears boy's old necklace, a purple heart of brotherhood, and a smile that eerily resembles boy's sly smirk. damn near made me cry, but i smiled too.

as i'm telling you this story, things are happening inside my head, like the cookie making machine from edward scissorhands. it's creaking and baking, creating little souvenirs of every facet of love. it's giving me the most surreal dreams, and it's making my days into second-hand notions that i could ever see him again. for thirty seconds on the elliptical machine at the gym tonight, i thought i was walking through the french quarter with him, lowering my head against a rare cold wind in the bowels of a new orleans december.

neither here nor there.

so the next day, after our illustrious plague of affection reared its inexpressable glower, i was sitting on the brown recliner in the living room, waiting for him to come home from work. philosopher was on the couch. glam was jumping about explaining some ricochet of reality she had experienced at the bar the night before. i heard his wallet chain and clunky footsteps down the stairs. he came in and dropped off his bag and then joined us. normally, in his way, he would sit on the couch, light a cigarette, and give us an account of some wretched customer or his markedly logic-impaired boss. but instead, he jaunted in and sat on the floor in front of me quietly. he took my arm from my lap and wrapped it around his neck, kissed my palm, and listened to the rest of glam's story. they took the briefest stare at us in recognition of this new found public (well, public for us) affection and continued the listening and rambunctious story-telling. i think i was more shocked than either of them at this lavish display of out of character affection. we hadn't gotten to that point yet. sure, we cuddled and poured onto each other once we were in bed, tying each other in our arms and lightly rubbing one another's backs, but this was pretty uncanny for me and him. we were not a couple. we had kissed. we had fucked. but each of those occasions was remarkably left to sear in their own moments. this was his acknowledgement of something else.

again, it didn't really bother anyone that he was dating "mindy" or whatever her name was. and so on...

a few days later, he called when i got home from one of my evening classes. he was bored at work and wanted me to come hang out. this was not an unfrequent event. i would take a cab out to brighton (because the t didn't go anywhere near that video store, and we all know that if the t doesn't go there, it's not worth going to.) and bring him some food i swiped from the dining hall. we'd hang out and watch movies. he'd help the occasional customer. he'd close and borrow enough money from the till to pay for a cab back to his apartment. i stole him some salad and mozarella sticks and headed over there. i brought some of my homework in case he got busy with ever-important video store business. and that's how it went, evenings of watching "pump up the volume" or "south park" and listening to him rant on politics and pop culture. it was how we were. it just was.

well, the next week, he called me from work, but i couldn't afford a cab out there. he told me that he left the key on the sill and to be there when he got home from work. again, this was incredibly typical for us.

i got my stuff together, just homework and books for my classes the next day. this had gotten to the point where i had a toothbrush and contact solution over there along with two t-shirts (that his dad had gotten him in italy but ended up being too big) that i routinely used as nightshirts or hanging around comfort. i hopped on the train. i let myself into the apartment, switched on the telly, and began to scribble in my journal.

strangely, no one was home or hanging out. there was not a soul crashed on the couch. it was quiet. and that was unusual.

another few hours before he got home from work, i made myself comfortable and got to work on a story for class. time flies when your stuck, and he got home at about one.

i heard his wallet chain and clunky footsteps, and i heard a female voice. i know it's cliche, but i sat bolt upright and then quickly tried to appeared undyingly cool and collected in the ten seconds before they walked in.

she smiled, and he introduced us. i gave her the most severe once over and smiled a most polite smile.

"'mindy' gave me a ride home."

"oh. that was nice of her."

and she sat in the black butterfly chair and proceded to make bad conversation with pretty much only him.

i sat on the end of the couch and continued to write in my journal, knowing that i fucked her over by fucking her boyfriend last week.

a little while later, he disappeared into his room to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. well, i guess he had trouble finding them because she followed him about thirty seconds later. i could see the door from where i was sitting in the living room. it was shut as tight as any door can be.

twenty minutes later, i stood up, unsure of what to do with myself, not wanting to be dramatic, knowing that the t's stopped running an hour previous, knowing i didn't have cash for a cab, having thought that i'd be spending the night as per usual.

i'd done it before. i'd do it again. i put on my coat. i put on my scarf. november would not hold me down, and neither would they. i knew he wasn't mine, and i had no right to fight for him.

on the mammoth dry erase board, i wrote "i'm out. give me a call tomorrow.--lindsay girl."

and i left as quickly and quietly as possible, not really wanting to deal with his pleas for me to stay or lack there of.

i walked home. i charged through allston, in all of it's apartment complex glory, still holding warmth from the apartment but losing it by the second. i made the packard's corner turn, passed star market and planned parenthood and getting kind of mad about being ditched after he asked me to come over. did he think i would just wait in the living room like a patient, well-trained girl? did he think i'd sleep on the couch reserved for unsolicited guests? what the fuck?

by the time i reached west campus, i became entirely too somber, curious as to why i had began to trust him again, wondering if i really could love him. well, when i passed the union, i was in tears, sobbing really, but the streets were empty at this two thirty light. at marsh chapel, there was a twenty four hour vigil going for some dead person or another, and two rotc men were stiffly marching that reluctant and morose march that they do around the stone courtyard in front. i stood there for a moment and watched them take deliberate steps from the center to each side, turn with a clean jerk, and return to the center with the same number of paced steps. i wondered what they thought of me, standing in the middle of the sidewalk at two thirty in the morning and staring at them and crying. i continued at a slower gait and tried to work it all out in my head, like some word puzzle or rubik's cube.

by the time i crossed kenmore square, i was a mess, confused and curious as to why i was so worked up over something that really shouldn't affect me.

on the porch of my brownstone, my old roommate and a friend were talking and smoking. she looked at me and asked me what i was doing home and why was i crying. i just started sobbing harder.

she walked me up to my room, and by this time, it was like three fifteen or something and i was exhausted.

"i just want to go to bed. can i sleep? i just want to sleep."

"sure, hon, go to sleep. do you need anything?"

my phone began to ring.

i picked it up and hung it up in one movement.

it began to ring again.

i turned off the ringer.

"i don't need anything."

she started to leave and then turned halfway back around, "do you hear that?"

"what?"

"that's really someone calling your name."

i had turned my music up pretty loud, and so i thought she was fucking with me. but she went over to the window and started laughing hysterically.

"oh my god, what a putz! do you see this ass?!? go let that ass in. oh my god..." and she left still laughing.

i looked out the window, and there he was, shouting from three stories down on the sidewalk.

"WOULD YOU FUCKING LET ME IN ALREADY?"

i started laughing. i thought he had been calling from home, not in my life did i think he would be calling from the vestibule downstairs.

i went down and let him in.

he collapsed into me and just embraced me for a few minutes.

we went upstairs.

"i guess you're pretty pissed?"

"yeah, kinda."

"but she is.."

"your girlfriend, i know. but you invited me over, you fuck. i didn't need that. getting blown off is one thing, but getting ditched so you can get some ass while i'm sitting... nevermind."

"god, linds, could you hear me out?"

"fine."

i sat in my desk chair. he sat on my bed. i turned down the music and lit a cigarette.

"you have to understand, i was busy breaking up with her."

i looked up with softer eyes.

"what?"

"i broke up with her. see," and he lit a cigarette, "i realized something very important while the three of us were sitting in the living room."

"what's that?"

"well," and he stood up, "i was looking at 'mindy' and watching you watch her like some hawk. i realized that you weren't judging her, but ..."

"she smokes marlboro lights, for god's sake..."

"listen, that's not my point. you weren't just passing judgement, but you concerned because she was with me. and i realized that i've already got a girl." and he sat on my lap, and he kissed my forehead. "you're my girl. you're my redhead."

"really?"

"yes, really." and he kissed me. "i mean, christ, i had to borrow ten bucks from my roommate just to get down here. i never in my life told a cabby to step on it. it was kind of fun, i've always wanted to say that."

we started laughing.

"you ok?"

"yeah. i can't believe you came down here. you watch too many 80s movies."

"yeah, but i knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

"you're right."

and we got into pajamas and laid in bed talking until the sun came up. i fell asleep with him pulling his fingers through my hair and lightly touching my neck.

i skipped class the next day (which i hated doing... cause i'm one of those people), and we ate a late lunch and snuck into a movie.

and this is just the beginning. consider all that just the opening goddamn credits, but apparently, i have all the time in the world to tell this story.

i got nothing else to do, and it's my only story worth telling. just a little story about this love i had once from a good man. after all, you don't learn anything about love until it's gone.

well, we'll get to all that.