I Walked With Her

by Lisa Barrington

  Depeche Mode, “Enjoy the Silence”. The song never gets old either. (Cue the soundtrack yet again.) Reality? I've been avoiding him since he left. Neither of us knew what to say when we awoke that morning. We both seemed lost and confused. Well, I know I was. We were naked while fully clothed. We were so polite to one another. I made him coffee and breakfast as he packed, same as I have always done. I walked him to his car. Made sure he had printed his boarding pass. I rechecked that he had his cell charger. There is one thing I have not been able to figure out. Ben kissed me beside his car before he left. It was a long, soft kiss to end all other kisses. Was that kiss, goodbye or hello to something brand new between?

  My mind is a torturous beast. I have been tormented ever since. Two weeks have passed. Fourteen days gone. Three hundred and thirty-six hours.

  The yacht he is on, I know is the cream of the crop. I know I cannot use the excuse of a bad signal. I did text him. I did make some contact. I could not allow him to think I am not alright. I expressed all is well, simply super busy. I could never let him think something bad happened to me. His texts and calls were definitely becoming worrisome of me. This is his time to try to sleep. Here he is trying me yet again. He is not giving up. Why can’t I be more like him?

  Ben returns home in three days. Three days! Yet I don't answer still?

  Few moments later, my voicemail beeps. "It's me, again. Christ why won't you pick up? You're really beginning to piss the fuck out of me Max! What is going on in that head of yours? Well, I've been thinking of you a lot. Feel like we need to talk in the least. Appears you definitely don't want to. I'll be back in San Fran on Wednesday. Some of crew is talking about heading to Tahoe for couple of days. Slopes we hear are pure powder right now. I want you to come. I need you to. I miss you Max. Think about it. Work is crazy I have to get back. Text me at least. You cannot hide from me forever. Olive juice."

  I listen again. I miss his voice. I miss him. I honestly don’t know what to say. It has now been three full days since I last slept. Not my record quite yet, but close. Mania set in worse when he left. Cycling, not quite rapid like our last night together. Though I am crashing harder long, before rising slightly. The crash has been to levels I am battling to manage much less find control. I know I'm going to implode.

  Three days left. What will be? A fucking spree maybe? Who knows? Need to get this under control before he gets back. I knock my head against the granite, as I sit at our kitchen bar. Please shake my brain back to the slightest bit of sanity. I have to find a way back to me, before he returns. Whoever that even is anymore. I am not being fair to him. Nor me. I must find a way back. I need to face him. Face us. What have I done to us? Love fails. Friendships succeed. What have I done?

  Tahoe? Out of the question. Damn him for dangling that in my face. He knows how much I love it. Only sport I refuse to give up despite my back. I pick up my cell and start dialing. There is not much time. I can no longer turn a cheek on my own self. I need help. There is barely time left.

  "Hi Catherine, it’s Max. Is Dr. D available?"

  "No Mackenzie he is with a patient."

  "Do you think he can fit me in somehow for a phone appointment today? It’s somewhat dire. I can't make it to office but its hit. I cannot manage the mania that has found me again. I am scared. I am spiraling and I waited too long."

  "Oh Sweetie. Let me check. He has lunch at eleven. I'm certain for you he will make time."

  "Thanks Catherine. Appreciate it."

  "Take care of yourself Mackenzie. You cannot keep doing this to yourself. Always waiting until it’s so bad honey. He can help you before it gets to these points."

  "I know. Well you would think I would know that by now. I suppose I have become a masochist of sorts."

  "Oh Mackenzie don’t speak so foolishly. We all love you. You are simply never alone. Never forget that dear. He will call around eleven. You have my word."

  “Your kindness is rare Catherine. Thank you.”

  “Take care of yourself please Mackenzie.”

  “I will. First step back, is right now.”

  “Yes, it is. Goodbye sweetheart.”

  “Thank you.” We hang up.

  With the phone still in my hand, I begin a text to Ben. 'Sorry missed your call. Super crazy busy with deadlines. Everything is fantastic here. Think you should hit Tahoe. Sounds like a great time. Can't myself. You coming back to pack and grab your gear?'

  My phone vibrates right back. 'Why are you avoiding me? Deadlines? Nothing better than that excuse? I have seen you crank out ten page articles in one all-nighter. Unless you got a piece for Time, this is bullshit! Yes, I'll be back Wednesday, should be in about noon. Then we are meeting at three to head out. Need to hit a meeting in between. I don’t want to play these games Max. We said no games. Please. I really hope I see you at home. Olive juice. Forever Max.'

  I put the phone down. Then impulsively pick it up again.

  "Hello Red Door Spa, Michelle speaking. How may I help you?

  "Yes I'd like to make an appointment for a Brazilian wax, massage and a facial, Wednesday at 11:30?”

  "Have you had services here before ma'am?"

  My God, I sound like a Ma’am. I will need to work on that.

  "Yes. Max Manale.

  "Oh yes of course. Let me see what we have available? We have 11:15 on Wednesday with Sue for the Brazilian, facial with Beatrice, followed by Joseph for the massage. Would that work well for you Ms. Manale?

  "Perfect thank you."

  "Great. We will see you then. Have a good day. Thank you for choosing Red Door."

  Okay so I am blatantly avoiding him! What am I supposed to do? What if, I am not better? My mania! What if I saw and felt more than he did that night? I am the crazy one! What if it meant more to me than it did to him? He said he has always missed me. He did not say he was ‘in love’ with me. I can’t face him yet. What if, I was wrong? What if, he didn’t see forever in me? What if, he didn’t see his reflection in my eyes, as I saw mine in his? What we had was perfect. I may not have failed that night, but I will fail him. I cannot bear to fail him. He is my light in my darkness. I cannot lose him. We cannot go down this path. Love fails.

  I haven’t talked to Dr. D yet. What if, I am not “me” again before he returns? I can’t take that chance. At this point, I don't even know what to say? How am I supposed to have any control around him? Christ, I need to have control! Control over me not him!

  All I do is think about him. His kiss and the way he touched me. I haven't even been able to think of anything else! What am I going to do when I see him? I'm still not ready. I love him so much. I can’t lose him again. I don’t simply love him. I am in love with Ben. I have been since I was eighteen years old. I cannot lose him. I can’t. I created the life we have. The theatre curtains I have to perform in front of and close with him as needed. I first must figure how to get us back to it. The only way to think is for me to work.

  I open my laptop up and continue writing. "Why Sons of Anarchy Has Changed How We See Violence On Television?” I've spent the last six days watching every episode and frankly, I'm disturbed, intrigued and quite seduced. I've researched the topic well. I'm confident it is a good piece. Frankly, it's paying amazing. The freedom, the choices, I'm a freelance writer. This was always professionally the only place I ever desired to be.

  One day, I will be a true author. A novel. I dream of seeing my name in a bookstore. The feel of a hardcover, and the flow of pages passing through my fingers. My name resting on the cover. Silly I know, but we all can dream. God, dreams. Are they only that? I was so convinced they were until that night. One day I'll write my story. This life is one hell of a ride.

  Chapter Twelve

  The last three days passed very slowly. Finally, I wake and it's Wednesday. I'm sleeping again thanks to Trazodone. Stimulates sleep mostly, though it is an antidepressant. Bottom line, sleep promotes my own body’s production of serotonin, which in turn helps bring mania down. Start
ed me on heavy dose too. I laughed when I hear Dr. D's recommendation for the addition to my drug cocktail. I had heard of this drug while watching Silver Linings Playbook. Another favorite film of mine to date. A must see. True reflection of bipolar disorder for many. The character’s that Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence play in one superb scene when they are comparing psychiatric drug experiences during a dinner party, is brilliant. All drugs of which I have pretty much taken. Though Trazodone was one of the very few I had not. I can hear, Bradley Cooper saying, "How about Trazodone? It flattens you out. I mean you are done! It takes the light right out of your eyes!"

  When Dr. D heard I blew through $3284.21 to be exact, in one-day online shopping and hadn't slept three days straight, he pretty much threw the book at me. I hate the treatment, but I do love Dr. D. He is very much like a cool grandfather. He even went so far as to ask how many men I bedded during this episode. He laughed harder when I said none. He then concluded I must not have lost all control. There is hope on the horizon to pull me out yet again.

  Grateful for the sleep of the past two nights. I feel slightly better, but not quite refreshed. Out of the woods, I am not. I can simply see through the trees now. I am hopeful the massage will help. The feel of a man's hands on my body should be good for me too. Ben is going too pissed as hell when he sees I'm not here. I need to get out of here sooner than later. He knows me well. He very well may try to get in earlier, if work allows.

  I shower quickly as my coffee rests on the side of the sink. I waste no time. Thank God heading to spa, no hair or makeup is needed. I throw my hair in a loose pony. Slip into the new Victoria Secret Pink sweat suit I purchased. Love it. Top hits right where pants rest on your hips. I swear they get tighter in breast area. With a good push up bra, a woman can look sexy, even in a sweat suit. So... maybe yes, I bought it in three colors. They were excellent in their expedited free shipping. I have a hard time with not accepting the pull of their advertising. You see like many online companies I personally enjoy, if you spend a certain amount you receive free shipping. I mean who wants to pay for shipping. Not me. So much easier and beneficial to meet their minimum. Yes, the logic is probably fucked and slightly not sane. That is I. Besides the boy shorts and tanks were so cute also. I think I was giddy at the time. All right, fine I was manic.

  I grab my Ugg loafers. It's cold, at least for our neck of the woods. Spring is a wonderful yet tricky time of year. I head for the door in a mad dash. Grab my purse and keys that rest on the counter on my way. Shit! I forget my meds. I head back to the kitchen to take the evil morning pill. It of course, is separate from the several I must take before bed. Again, I grab my purse. I quickly add an infinity scarf when I grab my denim jacket. You will rarely find me without those two staples. A denim jacket is always at my side and an infinity scarf; well it can simply pull any look together. No, do not ask how many I have of each. I am thirty-nine; this manic episode has not been my first rodeo.

  I make it out without seeing him. Guilt chokes me. Quickly. Along with mastering sadness, I am a coward many a time. I miss his face. His smile. Some of the best moments we share are when he returns home from work. My God his hands and how tight he hugs me. God, how he held me that night. It's going to take a lot for him to forgive my behavior.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Exactly 11:30 a.m. The apartment door opens. I am early. I need to get to Max, before she can try to avoid me again.

  "Max! I'm home. Max!"

  I go straight for her room. She is not there. I check the bathroom. I find only her towel on the floor and an empty coffee cup by the sink.

  "In a rush I see! God damn it! Why is she running? Fuck this!"

  I head to my room to put one bag down and pack another. Walking back out of our apartment, I grab the keys to our storage space in the basement. We keep our skis and everything else we can't fit in our two bedrooms. I have to get out of here. I cannot believe all that is happening. Is nine years falling apart?

  I head down the elevator first stopping by our doorman. "Hey Chuck, you see Max today?"

  "Yes about an hour ago. I caught a cab for her. Said she was headed further into city didn’t want to deal with trying to find parking. Is everything alright?"

  "Yeah. Thanks."

  "You headed to basement I see.”

  Keys are dangling in my hands. "Yah, need my ski's, I’m heading to Tahoe for a few days."

  "Can I give you a hand? Give me your bag and car keys son. I'll bring your Jeep back around, while you get the rest of your gear."

  "Thanks Chuck. Appreciate it."

  "Not a problem my friend. That is what I am here for."

  Chuck heads towards the elevator. Parking is one level below. Basement is two. I stand for a moment. Downtown? What could be more important? Eventually she will have to face me, us. I head to basement. AA is in half hour. I need it especially now. Maintain balance and accountability. It is not the accountability that concerns me, rather the balance I desperately need right now. Is there even such a thing? Will there even be again?

  My mind is becoming an enemy. This is not me. I can’t help but consider what I fear most. I pushed her too far. I lost her. I lost the love of my life and my best friend. Is there any possibility now of a future? I wanted it be so real. She is endless. I saw myself in those aqua blue eyes. How was it only real for me? Do I love her so much, I fooled even myself? Oh my God. Max cries when she is sad! God why, how did I even consider the notion her tears were of joy. Her answer was clear and I saw the wrong one.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I survive my Brazilian wax. No matter what a woman says, it never gets easier. The facial was good, not great. There is nothing relaxing about skin care. All the picking and squeezing, the masks and creams it is too much really. Being a woman is exhausting. I need this massage.

  I wait as patiently as my restless body will allow. I lay naked on the table. A sheet covers me, the table heated. Soft music envelopes the room and smells of lavender. I try to breathe it all in. Relax. Feel the warmth. Find my center and relax.

  As of recently, I abandoned yoga. I need to get back to it. It does not calm the demons, but it does provide me with brief serenity. Joseph knocks.

  "Come in."

  "Ms. Manale. It’s been a while. I hope you have been well. Is there one area you would like me to work on more than another? Relaxation or stress relief today?"

  "It has been too long Joseph. To answer your second question, both! As far as any areas needing more attention than another does, if you could kindly get those incredible fingers of yours into my brain that would be phenomenal. However, since we know that is not possible, simply beware of the many knots you will most likely find."

  "Not a problem. We will relieve some of this tension." Joseph places a warm wet cloth over my eyes. I hear the pump of the lotion as he sits behind my head. He begins with my shoulders. I try everything to shut down my mind and relax my body.

  I have always loved Joseph. After initial pleasantries he works, he does not talk. His hands strong, yet gentle. He knows exactly the correct pressure to ease while comforting at the same time. He knows exactly how to make you forget the world. He is always courteous and kind and never allows you to feel as naked as you truly are.

  Only one time did he ever inquire anything personal with me. One of our first sessions together while inquiring my physical history, obviously my scars scream aloud. When he saw my back bare, he did ask about one tattoo in particular.

  He thought my lower left back tattoo was interesting. It is a piece that I have built over three different tattoos. It began with a very small simple butterfly. A side view, I had done while I was married. When I divorced, I had it done over. The butterfly’s wings were made larger, colors changed, and the word, ‘Believe’ scripted above it. Everything in life I was trying desperately to believe happened for a reason. It was not soon after; well I could never escape my true heart’s feelings. I then added a large Gerbera daisy. How many times when I
was young did I pick the petals of a daisy and say, “he loves me, he loves me not?” In my heart, I loved someone. I included also, two rocks. My flower could not grow from the earth but from two rocks. My parents. Each of their initials is in the two stones. Then there is the portion that was added for Ben. That is what struck Joseph’s curiosity.

  He first shared he is a Buddhist himself. He inquired about the scripture inked on me and its meaning. The scripture; “Matthew 6:34”. I explained its most basic interpretation. ‘Do not worry about tomorrow, for today has enough worries of its own’. Yes, a basic meaning, but there is nothing basic as to why it is forever on my body. The piece with Believe’ to my scripture all ties as one, with meanings I shall never put into words correctly to anyone else.

  It was that one time he and I have ever spoken more than the kindest of pleasantries. To this day he is always, more gentle when he arrives at that spot on my back. Like there is a respect, he does not want to disturb. He is special. Excellent at his craft. Well, that is until today. That is not true. It is not him. It is the old saying "it is me, not you".

  Every touch on my body, I couldn't help but compare to Ben's touch. Ben is everywhere. He is in my head, even here. Now. Honestly, he is every thought. This is inescapable. Here I am my spiteful self, missed my chance to see him, for I'm not sure how many days. What is wrong with me?

  I leave Red Door, not very rejuvenated. Quite the opposite, actually. My heart feels heavier than when I woke. I barely want to walk. Much less, go back to our empty apartment. I decide to continue walking. I need to be out, feel the sun on my face. Move my body more than bedroom, to kitchen, kitchen to den, den to kitchen, and kitchen to bedroom. Oh and of course, I have visited the bathroom. Ah the change of scenery in our humble abode. I need to force myself right now.