by L.H. Cosway
He basically spilled his guts out to me and I ended up loving him even more once I'd heard his story. But then I'd tried to hand him my heart and he'd looked at it like it was a dead rat he didn't want to see. He turned away from me and my helpless female need for his love in return.
I knew this was going to happen all along. From the very beginning I'd told myself to stay away, but I just couldn't seem to help falling for him. I saw how he treated Dorotea when she tried to make things serious with him and he basically ended up hating her for it. Why the hell would I be any different? I'm practically sucking back tears when I get to the ticket booth and pay the entrance fee to the castle.
In the end I don't even go that far inside. I walk to a wall lined with black cannons that looks out over the city and sit down, staring at the buildings far below me. Tourists of every nationality potter around me, taking pictures and chattering. I stay there like a statue, lost to my own misery and feelings of rejection.
Perhaps it's because of what he's been through that he can't accept love or anything more than the simple gratification of sex. Surely being molested by a man your father's age when you're only fourteen years old would do a number on a person. Maybe he'll always be like this, seeking only the rush of initial attraction and nothing more, just like Dorotea had warned me.
When I get back to the hotel hours later the room is empty. I order some dinner and sit eating by myself at the table, comforting myself in the only way I know how: with food. The trouble is, everything tastes like nothing and all I feel is the aching that's radiating out from my heart and seeping into the rest of my organs. Everything in my middle hurts. I can barely breathe.
I lie in bed for hours, remembering the details of Nicholas' story in my head and trying to figure out why he looked so pained when I told him I love him. It's nine at night the next time I glance at the clock. Nicholas will be just going out on stage now, I think to myself.
I need to see him, talk to him, figure him out. I spring up in the bed, throw on some clothes (because I had been wallowing in my PJs like a complete and total lovesick stereotype) grab my handbag and rush out the door.
When I get to the club Nicholas is sitting by the piano, playing a song I've never heard before. It's not his usual upbeat number, it's slow, the lyrics introspective. The place hasn't filled out as much as it did last night or the night before, but there's still a good number of people here to see him.
It takes a few minutes for him to see me standing there. He looks through me and away, focusing on the people sitting in front of the stage.
He remains sitting at the piano when he speaks into the microphone. “This next song is for someone who told me they loved me today. It's called “I Don't Care Much” from Cabaret.”
My heart sinks, my organs hurt more than ever, as Nicholas starts to sing. He makes a point of looking directly at me for a brief moment, right at me, so there's no mistaking who the song is meant for.
He tells me that he doesn't care much whether I go or stay.
He tells me that if he kisses me, if we touch, warning's fair, he doesn't care very much.
I die inside, not a little bit, but a lot. Before he's even finished the song I run out of the club like I'll suffocate if I stay. I can't even remember how I get back to the hotel; all I know is that there are tears running furiously down my face and when I do get back I begin shoving my things into my suitcase.
Why did he do that? Why the fucking humiliation of a public rejection? Does he hate the fact that I love him so much that he had to tell me he didn't care in the cruellest way possible?
He really is a beautiful mess. A beautiful mess that sucks you in and messes you up too. If I fly too close to the sun, I can't exactly expect anything other than to get burned.
I leave the hotel and hop into a taxi, instructing the driver to bring me to the airport. On the drive I call up Nora and sob my sad little story to her down the line. She tells me to buck up and that everything is going to be okay, but those kinds of words mean nothing when your heart is breaking.
In the end she goes online and books me a seat on the next flight back to Dublin, which isn't until six o'clock tomorrow morning. I end up spending the night sitting on a chair in the waiting area, my face red from crying and constantly dabbing my nose with a piece of tissue. I watch as planes take off over on the runway through the massive glass windows.
When I woke up this morning in bed with Nicholas I couldn't have been any happier. I never expected things to change so drastically.
A little old woman comes and sits down beside me at one point. She has a face that looks like a smiling potato. After about fifteen minutes of her sitting there, she randomly reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze.
“You'll have lots of that crying business to come if you ever have children,” she says, her accent northern. “Save your tears for the ones that matter most.”
Then she stands up and walks away. I don't know how she could tell that I don't have any kids yet. I want to scream at her that I'm crying for the best person I've ever met, but that he might also have been the worst. But I don't, I just continue to sniffle into my tissue. I think the world is a cruel place when it can show you such happiness and then just snatch it right away again so soon.
I drift off to sleep and wake up when I hear my phone beep with a text. It's from Nora, it reads:
Just had a strange phone call from Nicholas. He asked where u were and then hung up:-/
I immediately dial Nora's number. She answers, sounding sleepy and annoyed.
“What Fred? Nicholas already woke me up and now you too.”
“What did he say?” I ask.
She takes a minute to answer, and I can tell she's doing a big, open-mouthed yawn. “Oh um, well for starters he sounded really distraught, then he asked me if I'd spoken to you. I said yes I fucking well did and told him he's the world's biggest dickhead. He didn't seem pleased, but then again he didn't try to defend himself either. Then he asked where you are now. I told him you were at the airport waiting for a flight home. He just said “Good” and then hung up. Rude much?”
I sit there, speechless. Good. That's all he had to say to the fact that I was leaving early after he publicly rejected me?
“If you ask me, you're well shot of him,” says Nora, not put out at all by my silence.
“I wish I could share your enthusiasm,” I mumble.
“Oh look, we'll talk about it when you get home. I'm going back to sleep,” she clips out, being her usual straight talking self.
“Okay,” I whisper and tap the end button.
Chapter Sixteen
Broken Hearts and Sugary Tea
When I finally get home it's just after nine the next morning. Nora comes to the door and I break down crying. I can tell by the expression on her face and her stiff body posture that she's not sure how to handle me. During the three years we've lived together I've never had an emotional breakdown on a par with this. Sure, I'd have days when I was a moody cow, but not full on bawling my face off like I am now.
God help her, she does her best to comfort me, but she's not the greatest person at making people feel better. Especially now, since I know she's all loved up with Richard. She's been texting me about him ever since their dinner date on Monday night, and she's had nothing but good things to say.
In the end she makes me a sugary cup of tea and sends me to my bed for the day. I call up my mum and tell her everything, from start to finish, because she's the only person I know who'll be able to comfort me and give me proper advice. At first she's surprised that all this has happened without her knowing about it, because normally I tell her everything that's going on with me.
Mum is a good listener, she doesn't butt in and try to talk down to me, telling me I should have known better than to get involved with Nicholas. She just listens quietly and then asks me if I want to come stay with her and Dad for a few days. I thank her for the offer, but decline. I need to be able to deal with these sort
of life situations without running home to Mummy and Daddy like a twenty-five year old baby every time something doesn't go my way.
A week and a half goes by. I return to work and try to slip back into my old routine, as well get used to not being at The Glamour Patch with Nicholas at the weekends. A few days after I got home from Edinburgh, Nora told me that she bumped into Nicholas out in the hallway. She said he looked the same as usual, but that he only said hello to her politely before going inside his apartment.
The fact that he looks fine and I'm a blubbering mess says it all really. I need to pull my shit together. We weren't some kind of once in a lifetime romance, we were friends who had a couple mind blowing sex sessions and that's it. (No matter how much I try to convince myself that I believe this, it still doesn't stop my heart from hurting all the time.)
I spend an evening over at Harry's and after I've told him all about my Edinburgh heartbreak, he quite reluctantly reminds me that we still have the group trip to Electric Picnic in a fortnight to contend with. I've already paid for the ticket, and apparently I can't get a refund. Since Sean and Harry are still an item and Sean is good friends with Nicholas, neither one of them wants to take sides, and Nicholas is still dead set on going.
If I hadn't spent so much on the ticket I simply wouldn't go, but wasting all of that money just doesn't sit right with me. I resolve myself to ignoring Nicholas and simply enjoying the music, and fingers crossed, the good weather. Although you can never rely on it to be sunny in this country.
My plans for ignoring Nicholas are momentarily thwarted when Harry informs me that Nora is going to be sharing a tent with Richard, who is now coming too, and his brother Colm is bringing his work friend Eric. That leaves me and Nicholas the odd pair out. I decide to invite Anny along at the last minute so that I can share a tent with her. She's all up for it when I call her. Nicholas can sleep in a tent on his own. Fuck, he can sleep in a porta-potty for all I care.
Two days before we're supposed to leave for the festival I get a surprise visit from Phil. He steps into my apartment all casual, as if it's a normal occurrence for him to come and see me.
“How's it going Fred? We've missed you down at the club.”
I sit down on the couch and he joins me. “I'm okay. Hasn't Nicholas told you what happened?”
Phil frowns. “He did. I'm sorry about that, but I've known him a long time and I've never seen him the way he is now. It's like he's lost his spark or something.”
I purse my lips. “Nora saw him and she said he looked fine.”
“Nora doesn't know him like I do.”
“I'm not trying to be rude Phil, but why are you here?”
“I came because I think you should try and speak to him. Nicholas isn't exactly the easiest human being to navigate. He's got his demons more so than the average person.”
“I know that. He told me about what it was like for him growing up,” I say in a quiet voice.
“Then you know that it isn't easy for him to accept a person's love the same way it is for others. I don't mean to be crude, but that man has fucked his way across Europe half his life. All of a sudden he comes to Dublin to settle down and the first woman he meets makes him laugh and does something to him that no woman has ever done before. All he's ever known have been simple, short term relationships and I know he doesn't deserve your forgiveness after the way he behaved; between you and me I wanted to give him a slap upside the head when he told me, but if you could just find it in yourself to give him a chance, I think you could be it for him Fred.”
“I'm not it for him, he doesn't want it. I'm not sure if he ever will.”
“He wants you, I know that for a fact. The man never shuts up about you; his face instantly brightens when you walk into a room. Since you two had your falling out he's been going on about all the times you spent together. He's driving me crazy like a broken record.”
I stand up and fold my arms across my chest, feeling uncomfortable with this conversation. I can't seem to determine how I feel about Nicholas in this moment. I hate him, but I also know that he's dealt with some fucked up situations in his life, and that makes me want to take care of him. I wish he could just be out and out bad, that way I could hate him and that would be that.
Phil grabs my hand and pulls me back down to sit. “Listen, I'll tell you something that you probably don't know. A couple of weeks before you two met I had to drag Nicholas out of a really deep depression. He'd been living in a shit hole apartment in Berlin even though he has the money to buy a penthouse if he wanted to, drinking all day long, doing crazy, sloppy performances at night. I got a call from a mutual acquaintance of ours telling me about what was going on. Nicholas had been a really loyal friend to me for years, stuck by me through some tough times, so I didn't hesitate to jump on a plane and pull him out of there. He's had high points and low points over the years, and this was one of the lowest.
“I brought him home to Dublin with me, helped him to clean up his act and then gave him a job at the club. He got himself back on track, rented out the apartment next to yours and had all of his things moved there. Then he met you and I can tell you Fred, I immediately saw a change in him. He told me that he had found a new friend, someone who makes his life better, and I was so relieved that he had someone to keep him on the straight and narrow. At the same time I was terrified, because I could tell that you were much more than a friend to him and I was worried that something could go wrong and Nicholas would go back to the drinking and the depression.” Phil pauses and lets out a heavy sigh.
“You need to talk to him Freda. He loves you back, I know he does. He's just completely incapable of dealing with the emotions he's feeling because he's never had occasion to feel them until you came along.”
“Christ,” I whisper.
“He needs you,” says Phil softly. “But you need him too.”
“If he needs me so much then why haven't I heard from him in three weeks? Why hasn't he tried to make contact? He lives right next door, Phil.”
“Because I told you, he's confused. He doesn't know how to accept your feelings for him and his for you.”
“I need some time to think, I don't know what to do right now.” I pull on a curl in frustration.
Phil puts a hand on my shoulder. “Just don't leave it too long hun,” he tells me, then gets up and lets himself out.
The closer it gets to the festival, the more nervous I become. The things Phil told me have been swirling around in my head ever since. I understand that Nicholas might not know how to accept love, but Jesus, that doesn't mean he had to ignore me all this time. It doesn't mean he had to push me away in such a cruel and callous manner either.
I pack up my sleeping bag and clothes the night before, deciding to bring boots and loose cotton dresses, since they're the easiest thing to wear in a camping situation. Harry has gotten a loan of his cousin's Volkswagon van so that he can drive us all there together. Fucking joy.
I plan on going to see as many bands as I can fit in, on my wish list are The Killers, Elbow, The Cure, Crystal Castles and Patti Smith. This will ensure that I won't have any time to be lingering around Nicholas.
In the morning the sun is shining, which puts a small smile on my face. I throw on my knee high brown socks, cream flower print dress and my heavy brown leather boots. I leave my freshly washed hair down while I still can, since I'll probably be wearing it in a ball on top of my head by the end of the festival, what with the limited washing facilities and all.
Anny arrives at our apartment with her two man tent that she's going to be sharing with me packed up in a bag in one arm, and her ruck sack in the other. She and Nora have gone for the whole short shorts, t-shirt and Wellingtons festival look. I avoid this look, because it only really looks good on the super thin and pixie-like types.
We catch a bus over to Harry's place in Drumcondra, where we find Richard and Colm out front, loading camping stuff into the back of the van. The two men are getting on like a house on
fire, which doesn't surprise me. Nora may be smitten, but I can tell that Richard is just as vain and shallow as Harry's brother. Yes that's right, my world view is even more cynical these days since I'm miserable over Nicholas. It irks me that Nora is all loved up, so I'm taking it upon myself to dislike Richard.
Colm looks me up and down and gives me a leering grin when he sees me coming, to which I roll my eyes.
“Hey Fred, let me take your bag,” he says loudly, not hiding the fact that he lets his knuckles graze over my boob as he pulls the ruck sack off one of my shoulders.
“I can do that myself, thanks,” I say grumpily, yanking my bag away from him.
“Woah there little lady. Got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning, did you?” he asks and laughs.
My reply is a hate filled scowl and a simple. “Piss off Colm, I'm not in the humour.”
“Oh, burn,” says Richard, to which Nora lets out a little giggle. Good lord. I was definitely right about him, Richard and Colm are two peas in a pod.
I push past them and go inside the house, where I find Sean sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter, injecting a bunch of oranges with vodka. The sight lifts my spirits after dealing with Colm and his boob grazing knuckles.
“What on earth are you doing, trying to get the oranges drunk?” I ask with a laugh, going to sit down beside him.
He has one full syringe stuck in his mouth, while he plunges another into a piece of fruit. He puts down the orange and pulls the syringe out of his mouth.
“I'm hoping they'll be more inclined to shag me if I ply them with alcohol,” he quips.
I grin. “Seriously though, what are you doing?”
He puts the orange into a plastic bag containing a bunch of other oranges. “You know the way they don't let you bring your own drink into the festival?”
“Uh huh.”