Three Questions

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Three Questions Page 12

by Meagan Adele Lopez


  “Hey, at least they got this far.”

  By the second song, we turned the music down because we couldn’t stop ourselves from chatting about everything - from what a good idea it would be to open a funky handmade costume jewelry store because every woman will always need accessories, to wondering if my uncle would care how late we got there, to Chel’s sister’s relationship, and how we felt she put more into it than her partner did. We had solved all the world’s problems in just under an hour.

  “Do you really feel like you are over your ex?” she asked me.

  “Honestly, I think I was over him a year ago,” I explained. “I just didn’t want to let go of our friendship. You know, when you’re with someone they become like your best friend. I probably knew we would never work out from the get go, but was too stubborn to listen to that voice. I needed to ride it out.

  “Did I ever tell you how the first couple of months we were together, I found out that he had been forwarding my private text messages to his female boss, whom I later found out he had slept with a year earlier?!” I divulged.

  “What?! No, you never told me that! How did you find that out?” Chelsea’s phone vibrated, and I saw her look down at it and push ignore. I chose to continue.

  “I got on his computer one day while he was in the shower, just honestly wanting to check my email, and it was wide open on the computer screen. They were making fun of words I had used and how I seemed to like him so much more than he liked me. I felt so betrayed because when we were together he was the sweetest thing around, and acted like he really liked me.”

  “Wow, why did you stay with him after that?” she questioned.

  “He made me feel like it was no big deal, and explained it wasn’t directly making fun of me. He just did it because he didn’t think I was the type of girl to mind about that sort of thing. Basically made me feel like I was being crazy, and I so wanted to be the cool girlfriend who didn’t nag.

  “Then I started checking his emails regularly just to make sure that was the end of it like he said it would be. I became paranoid, but never mentioned it. Almost a year later, when he was heading to Germany for the World Cup, I found out he was planning on meeting a girl he had known before he met me at a hotel, and he couldn’t wait to ‘hold hands’ with her in the street. He asked for her to send him her picture so he could remember what she looked like!”

  “NO!”

  “Yup. I mean, what an ass! I should have ended it there and then, and tried. But he showed up at my apartment three days in a row screaming my name - like straight out of a movie. Apparently, he went on a hunger fast as well until I would come back. I finally said I would at least speak to him. His excuse for doing what he did was that he was afraid of being alone if I left him. I was like, ‘I’m sorry buddy but when you’re in a relationship you can’t have back-ups just in case we break up!’ Oh, I was so angry! Who does that?”

  “Wow. He is not only a member of the Jackass Club, I think he might be President,” she said. I had to laugh at her silly analogy. “Yeah, you can’t really have back-ups when you say you love someone. I had no idea, Adele. So, why did it eventually end?”

  “There were a lot of reasons. I was fed up with his lies, and always coming second to his group of friends. I could never compete with them. But, I’m sure I didn’t make it easy either. I felt like I was becoming a martyr - always nagging him. I constantly felt jealous of everyone and everything. I just felt angry all the time. And I found I was starting to enjoy my alone time more than my time with him. Ultimately, even with all that, I had to end it because I could no longer see any love in his eyes - cheesy, I know.

  “I have no desire to ever be in a relationship again. They just don’t work in my family. Did you know, there is not a single person in my entire family who has not cheated on their significant other - down to my father, my mother, my sister, even my freaking Grandmother for God’s sake!”

  “You’re not your family, Del.”

  “Maybe not, but I certainly was born into them.”

  “You haven’t ever cheated, have you?”

  “No. Never would.”

  “So, forget them. You can’t live your life thinking you’ll end up like them. Your life isn’t pre-ordained. Mine might be, but yours doesn’t have to be.” She gave a sheepish smile.

  “Yours certainly isn’t. Look, I’m not depressed about it. I am happy being single and on my own. Him not wanting me to move in with him was the best thing that could have happened. I love my apartment.” As if loving my apartment was reason enough to never want to move in with another human being. As if loving my apartment meant I was safe, secure and fine being alone. I used my apartment like it was my dog, as if it were a living, breathing thing that needed constant care and attention. I would make excuses to friends for not going out, because I had to clean my apartment. I would tell my boss that I was late to work because my apartment decided to lock me out.

  “No one’s happy being single. You might be content, but you’re not happy, even if you won’t admit it. Everyone is looking for love - even those playboys who pretend they don’t give a shit, and go around sleeping with all sorts of women. Beneath it all, they just want a woman to love them. Why do you think we’re put on this planet? To lurrve.”

  Is that the sole reason we’re put on this planet? People throw that word around so easily nowadays. What if my sole purpose on this planet was to create something? Ok, so maybe it’s not acting - I mean, Hollywood isn’t exactly embracing me, but it’s got to be something creative, some form of self-expression! Or can we have more than one purpose? Is that being selfish to want more than to just love another?

  Then I thought about my mother and how many times she’d tried to love others and failed. Had my mother learnt anything about love after all these years?

  “Yeah. You’re right,” I said after a long moment. “I do think we’re here to love. But love comes in all forms, doesn’t it? I am learning to love myself through taking care of my body in the gym and my spirit with the telecourse,, and that’s enough for me for right now. Now I just have to figure out how I’m going to get out of this stupid ass job. But I have to learn how to love myself first, or else what chance do I really have?”

  “I have to admit that I never liked him,” she professed.

  “Who?” I asked.

  “The ex,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Really? I thought you did. I thought everyone did.”

  “Nope, I never thought he treated you as well as you deserved to be treated. I felt like you didn’t shine when you were with him, like you usually do. He brought you down, girl. As soon as he chose to watch that soccer game over spending time with you that night at Liza’s wedding, I made up my mind. He was tacky. Right there and then, I knew he would never compromise for you,” she paused in thought. “Do you ever feel guilty about having checked his emails and stuff?”

  “Heck no. Imagine if I hadn’t and was still living this fake happy ignorant life? I’d much rather know the truth, but of course, I wish there had been trust.” I paused. “That being said, I vow not to ever check someone else’s emails if I ever have another relationship. IF,” I emphasized. “But with him it was the right thing to do.

  Remember how obsessed we used to be about meeting someone on a night out?”

  “My God. The night wouldn’t go well unless someone had hit on us. Being with our best friend wasn’t good enough. How did we get like that? Yes, we were both searching for love, but we were obsessive,” Chelsea said.

  I could tell she was looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I looked back, taking my eye off the road for a second, and in chorus we said, “Must be Daddy issues!!” and cackled like it was the funniest thing we’d heard in years.

  Thursday May 29th, 2008

  Dear Man,

  (See what I did there? Man instead of Guy? I’m so funny.) It’s good to hear from you is an understatement. You are having so many adventures. Just stay alive, OK!?
At least until I can see you again.

  Life here is mellow.

  It was a fantastic weekend at the beach (gosh, seems so long ago now.) Friday night jam sessions at the beach house turned into partying with the older women at a bar; woke up and ran on the beach, soaked up the sun, imagined you with me, showered, had Mexican food, then fell asleep by midnight. Woke up an hour later and couldn’t fall back asleep ‘til 5 a.m. On Sunday we spent the day in Long Beach on an old British ocean liner called the Queen Mary, and missed your call. I was very upset. When I hear your voice it makes you seem more real.

  New York was such a blast, and it was nice to get out of LA for a bit. I got back last Thursday, and am just now getting a chance to write to you. I honestly had thought I wouldn’t hear from you again, it had been so long. I’m glad I’m in control of my thoughts, otherwise, I probably would have deleted your number a long time ago. Obviously, rationally, I know you are unable to communicate, but a woman’s mind is a dangerous thing when left to its own devices.

  It was cold as hell in New York and rained the entire time. You wouldn’t think it would still be like that in May, but that’s the east coast for you. Plus, my boss asked me to run around town looking for some fake Burberry purses and whatnot, so I saw my fair share of the inside of taxis and the outside of street sellers kiosks.

  All on her dime, of course.

  Did I tell you why I was going there? My boss, Tess, owns this children’s furniture company. There was an exposition in New York that she asked me to work at. I won’t go into details, but it was hell - loads of mothers asking for free shopping totes, wondering why we’re so overpriced, complaining about the fact that it’s all made in China. Disaster.

  Plus, I can’t tell you how many fights I got into with the New Yorkers while I was there. I didn’t notice it when I lived there, but I guess I have become more of an Angeleno than I thought. Softer to the touch. I went to order a sandwich and almost got my head bitten off when I paused to decide if I wanted mayonnaise or ketchup.

  “Get on with it!” the man screamed. He was not impressed with my pause, and whatever he said was rude. My face must have gotten flushed because the old lady behind me whispered in a thick New York accent, “Don’t worry, honey. He’s just menopausal.” I could have grabbed her and kissed her.

  Didn’t really sleep when I was there, I had so many friends to catch up. Still catching up from it all.

  My mom went out with us one night – so there was Chelsea, my friend Nicki, Chelsea’s sister Leah, me and Chelsea’s sister’s girlfriend. Yes, Chelsea’s sister has a girlfriend, and she is rad. Yes, I just said ‘rad’. Do you know that word? It means awesome.

  I really haven’t been going out a lot since then…mostly writing, a few auditions here and there (no word from the other auditions I told you about). I ran 3 miles on Sunday. (Which may not sound like a lot to you, but for me, who has never been a runner, it’s a big deal). I’m thinking I’m going to start training for a marathon in the fall.

  Oh, before I forget, you can no longer find me on any social media site. I was spending too much time on them. I need to be focusing on work or getting myself work, and here I am staring at pictures of friends I haven’t seen in years, and probably wouldn’t even say hi to if I met them. So, why am I spending so much time taking a peek into their lives? It’s just a waste of time and energy when I could be connecting with people I really care about, rather than people I haven’t seen in ten years. Besides, I will keep in touch with the people who matter…which leads into my questions for you - whom I want to keep in touch with…

  1. Do you ever eat in bed?

  2. Favorite scent?

  3. If you had to get a tattoo, what would it be of and why?

  Toodle Pip!

  Xoxo, AC

  Friday, 30 May, 2008

  Dear Del,

  Just stay alive? Just booked to do a skydive from ten thousand feet tomorrow. Doh.

  Looks like you were partying hard - ‘at a girl, good on you. Glad you caught up with the important people in NYC; always great to do that.

  Was in that same Zanzibar club myself when we stayed in Santa Monica, prior to Vegas and meeting your beautiful self.

  Whatever marathon you choose to do, I’ll run it with you, that’s the deal. Recommend you do a few 10k runs and half marathons before though.

  Don’t blame you, re: social media, not on there much myself, but it’s good to share photos I guess, how else am I going to get to see your fit boat race? (NB boat race = face in cockney rhyming slang!)

  1. Never, never, never. Bed is for sleeping in, not eating.

  2. My favourite smell? Bacon cooking, and my new favourite scent will be eau d’Adele.

  3. I doubt I’ll ever get a tattoo, but have thought maybe just one, something to cover my back and the eczema. I don’t know what design, something Celtic to reflect the family’s Irish and Scottish roots? Doubt I ever will do it though.

  Got to run myself now, two big kisses at you. Have a fabulous weekend and keep that pretty smile active.

  G x

  Monday, June 2nd, 2008

  Dear Guy,

  One: Email me after the skydive to let me know whether or not to cancel my trip to Chicago, or heck, maybe to book a hotel for myself! Why waste a good trip, right? Two: You’re on for the marathon. Any city of preference? Three: I’ll send you some private pictures. See, isn’t that more special than going online to a social networking site? Hey, don’t get any creepy ideas mister! Well, maybe some ideas are OK….

  Now for my three questions.

  1. I have a small apartment, and so, yes, sometimes I eat in bed. Actually, a lot. I eat popcorn and cereal mostly. Is that going to be a problem?

  2. Favorite smells: campfire hair, as you know, and I would say the other is rain. We don’t get enough of it here, and I miss it.

  3. I had a dream once that I had a tattoo of a feather on both wrists. Ever since that dream, I thought if I ever got one, it would be of that.

  How about three kisses back at ya? Think you can handle it?

  AC

  Monday, 2 June, 2008

  AC,

  One: I’m safe. I actually buckled on the skydive. Not like me, I know, but had to sit it out because that headache came back again. Much better now though - probably just the memory of being that high before brought it on. Two: No preference for me. Have already done London and Chicago, so maybe NYC?

  Three: Hell yes. Much more special and too late with the ideas!!

  And yes, I can handle the three kisses, how about making out for 20 minutes?

  I will sort out my phone tomorrow and its charger, and ring you first thing for sure.

  G xxxx

  Wednesday, June 4th, 2008

  Hi,

  I’m glad you’re safe. And, really sorry to hear about those headaches. I know friends who get constant migraines, and can’t imagine the pain. Hope they’re not here to stay! Get some pain relievers, for Christ’s sake, and no more heights!

  I also just want to say please don’t say you’re going to call unless you plan on calling. I understand you’re in Africa and having fucking crazy and amazing travels, so enjoy yourself and have a blast, and don’t worry about me or saying that you’re going to call. If you can’t call, then don’t say you will.

  It’s just that I feel like I’m making a huge leap of faith by flying half way across the country to see you in Chicago, and though it may seem small to you, things like that show me if I can trust you or not, and make me not want to come. You know what I mean? It’s just the little things that matter at this point.

  I don’t like being stood up.

  All right, hope you’re enjoying wherever you are, handsome man, and I hope that nothing drastic happened today that made you unable to call, because then I would feel horrible.

  xoxo,

  AC

  Thursday, 5 June 2008

  A,

  I mean it; I’ll call when I say I’ll call. It’
s just that when I decide to, I realise that you are ten or so hours behind. I keep forgetting that.

  I fully understand the leap of faith coming to Chicago, and I promise you can trust me; it’s just hard to be so exact here with the time difference, lack of network, ability to charge, etc. But rest assured, I’m in Cape Town now. I have the ability to charge, I have a network, and as I’m a single traveller again, I have my phone on me most of the time now. Until the 18th of June, that is.

  Sorry to make you feel bad, would never want to do that.

  It’s nearly July - only around 6 weeks or so now! Really looking forward to seeing you. Oh, better ask those questions before the next email.

  1. What’s the worst injury/illness you have ever suffered?

  2. You win $40 million on the lottery, what do you do next?

  3. Do you believe in any superstitions?

  You’re cute,

  Guy xxx

  BACK ON THE FREEWAY

  The traffic was easing up as we got on the 10 freeway. We were finally going about 60 mph. Four more wonderful hours to drive. I couldn’t wait to get out of the congestion.

  We were quiet for another fifteen or twenty minutes while the mixed tape played on. The sky slowly became clearer. I wore my favorite traveling outfit, a black cotton baby doll dress. It was comfortable and just fashionable enough. Chelsea and I both opted for leggings and flats for comfort. She also went for all black, paired with a tight t-shirt with a big olive-green belt sitting on her hips and a matching Pashmina scarf draped over her shoulders for a touch of class.

  Our oversized matching grandma shades were sitting comfortably on the bridges of our noses, and cigarettes rested between our fingers. I rarely smoked anymore (except during high stress situations), but this drive just bellowed out for a cigarette.

  Her phone rang again.

  “Guess who!” Chelsea said dryly, looking at me as she answered. “Hello? … Hi…. We’re on the road now…. Oh, you called earlier? I don’t think I heard it, I’m sorry. I promise to make sure I have my phone on me at all times, baby…. We decided to leave a day early for Vegas because Adele was able to get off work. Is that OK…? What’s wrong…? Did the doctor say how long you’d feel like that? I’m sure it will be fine…. I don’t know how long we have left to go. We got on the road about 45 minutes ago…. At her uncle’s. I already told you we were staying there…. OK, feel better. Oh, did you talk to the landlord? … OK, love you too. Mwaaaah mi amor. Byeee.”

 

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