The Existence of Amy

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The Existence of Amy Page 7

by Lana Grace Riva


  I'm glad she enjoyed it. I know, however, that her words are for my benefit. I need to let them wash over me. I am beat up enough. I don't need extra hits.

  Ed and Nathan both sense what she is doing so each try and change the subject. She's not making it easy for them though. Eventually they are successful, but I have a feeling this will not be the last I hear of how important she thinks it is to try new things.

  I feel like screaming at her 'I don't need you to teach me this, I am aware and fully agree it is important. I just don't actually have much of a say in the matter when it comes to deciding whether to do it or not!' But screaming at her would be misdirecting my anger again. My argument would make no sense to her anyway, so adding to the increasing tension is all I would likely achieve.

  So, I keep my screams silent. Hidden along with everything else.

  The weekend continues on in accompaniment of jet lag and sightseeing. Or maybe better described as bar seeing.

  Since the plane kept most of our energy we need to stop and rest a lot until we can accumulate some back. Resting with alcohol seems to be the preferred option for most. It's very relaxed drinking though – outside in the sun, everyone getting on well. No one particularly (or offensively) drunk.

  I have somehow managed not to dwell too much on the kayaking saga and notice instead that I am nearing a relaxed state. I am limited to being on the edge of it of course. I know I won't be allowed in but just being able to stand around the edge is pretty good.

  It's such a rarity these days I almost don't recognise the feeling. It would be presumptuous and completely false to assume this feeling will last the whole trip, but any time experiencing it at all I am extremely grateful for.

  The weekend draws to a close with an enjoyable meal out in one of Ed's suggested restaurants.

  'I wasn't too sure if it would still actually be here, given how restaurants don't always stick around that long. Even the good ones. I'm really glad it is though, I used to come here all the time.' He informs me as we're leaving and starting our walk back to the hotel.

  'Good memories then?'

  'Some good. Some not so good. I had quite an awkwardly bad date here once.' He smiles.

  'Ah. Well, it's good you didn't hold it against the restaurant. The food was really great, and it has a nice atmosphere. Very laid back and comfortable.'

  'It is isn't it. I think that's why I picked it for a date. But it turned out I maybe should have spent more time picking the person I was on the date with…'

  I laugh. 'Maybe.'

  'That reminds me actually about something. Ben has been mentioning you quite a bit recently. I think you might have a little admirer there you know.'

  Oh. I think I might be a little admirer of Ben too. My soul feels something when I speak to him. As though it's excitedly wondering if it's in the vicinity of a friend.

  'What exactly has he been saying?'

  'Asking the important facts mainly – Single? Straight? Potential to be a psycho girlfriend?'

  'And your response was?'

  'Yes. Yes. High potential but totally worth it.'

  I smile. He's joking, but unfortunately entirely accurate in saying high potential. I think it would be generous to even consider the word potential really since it's pretty much a given.

  'You probably misinterpreted his questions. Ben and I just think of each other as friends. Same as you and me.'

  Not same. But I need to focus on making it the same.

  'Well, that might be how you feel but Ben is for sure giving different vibes. Would you go on a date with him if he asked?'

  'Erm, no. That will not be happening.'

  'Why not? You like him enough as a friend, would it not be worth seeing if it could be something more?'

  'I just don't have that feeling with him. Now can we drop it please?'

  He turns to look at me and I see a fleeting look of confusion before he continues, 'Ok, but I think you might be missing out. Ben is really great. And you are really great. So, I'm almost certain you would therefore be really great together.'

  'Impeccable logic there Ed, but as I've said, I'm just not interested.'

  He looks at me intently as though he wants to say something further on the topic but then seems to decide against it. Instead he complies with my request and changes the subject.

  Chapter 22

  The Sydney office is based in an area called Surry Hills. It's not too far from our hotel so we can walk there, and I am thankfully spared the trauma public transport lays upon me. There could very well be impeccable public transport in Sydney, but it still wouldn't do much to alleviate my concerns. The only thing possible to alleviate them is non-participation.

  The office is a converted warehouse building transformed into the requisite trendiness. Again with the open plan but it feels more vast and appealing. Desks are more spread out and there somehow appears more air to breathe.

  The first day flies by with getting to know our Sydney colleagues. I have had contact with a few of them when working on past projects so it's good to put faces to emails.

  We have lunch in a nearby pub sitting in a beautiful outside garden area. The sun is shining, and I feel it absorb into my brain.

  Sun makes me feel something resembling happy. It's warm. It's bright. It's the happy colour yellow. It feels like the world is giving me a hug when the sun is out, and this is one kind of hug I can actually accept. So, I sit a little while just me and the sun and thank it for appearing today.

  I am sitting next to Josh who I know quite well despite him living in Sydney. He spent a few months working in our London office and we came to be quite good friends.

  'Reacquainting yourself with that thing in the sky I see.' He smiles.

  'I wasn't sure I'd ever see it again.'

  'Well I'm glad it's made an appearance today for you. We've had some pretty bad rain the past few weeks.'

  'Has it been making you miss London?'

  'Ha. No. I definitely do not miss the rain. But I do sometimes miss London as a place, it was fun living there. Sometimes I think about moving there for longer.'

  'Really? Have you seen where you currently live?'

  He smiles, 'I know, I'm lucky to live in this amazing place but I grew up here, and I guess you always wonder about what life would be like living in different countries.'

  I do wonder. I have always wondered.

  I always wanted to live in a different country. Not just one but multiple. I remember contemplating when I was very young how a person was to decide which country to live in if they didn't go and try lots first. I obviously had no awareness of such things as visas and legal restrictions at that point and firmly believed this is what I would do once I was old enough. Live in as many different countries as possible before I found the one I wanted to stay in.

  I was not to know that a restriction of a different kind would appear as a greater obstacle in preventing me.

  Chapter 23

  The following day Sally and I are on a coffee run and conversation turns to how good looking she thinks everyone is in the Sydney office. 'I mean, I almost wish I was single. There are some seriously beautiful people here.'

  I smile. 'I guess so. Just keep reminding yourself of the beautiful person you have of your very own back home.'

  'Oh yes, of course. I know how lucky I am don't worry. But for you – you could do worse than explore the options here.'

  'Oh, I don't think so. I'm sure they're all lovely guys but I'm not really looking.'

  She looks at me with a mixture of confusion and irritation.

  'Why not Amy? I don't get it.' She pauses before continuing. 'Well, actually I do get it. You can't pine for Ed forever you know.'

  She most definitely doesn't get it.

  'I'm not pining for Ed.'

  'Ok… you tell yourself that. But it's pretty obvious to the rest of us.'

  This saddens me. But I'd probably assume the same if I was them. It's a far more straightforward explanatio
n.

  I decide to change the subject as I know there isn't really any way for me to change her mind.

  The first week largely passes in a pattern of work during the day and sampling bars and restaurants during the evening. It's all thankfully presenting as manageable enough activities for me, so I get through them ok.

  Despite it all being manageable I still have my regular wobbles of course. I wake one morning and am immediately aware it is in full force mode today. Great.

  Back at home I would likely work from home when I am alerted to its strength, but that is not an option here. I'm going to need to bear the force and hope it might weaken as the day goes on. Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn't. I have no say either way.

  I carry out my usual morning routine of showering, getting dressed, and getting ready to leave but everything is taking a long time. Did I use shampoo when I washed my hair? I'm sure I picked up the shampoo bottle but maybe that is yesterday's memory? I better wash my hair again.

  Did I wash my hands after opening the curtains? I better go and wash them again just in case. Even though I can see my hands are wet and I am standing by the wash basin.

  The 'Did I' questions are numerous and tedious but I am powerless to stop engaging with them.

  Ed sends me a message.

  Hey, I'm downstairs, the others have gone on ahead.

  I'm grateful at least I am not holding up everyone. Holding up one person is still bad of course, but I have to try and grasp at any positives no matter how small.

  I quickly reply.

  Sorry, won't be long.

  Now I feel rushed. Instead of this hurrying me along, all this actually does is cause my brain to think I will make mistakes so the 'Did I' questions multiply further. I am now almost certainly going to take even longer.

  Shit, we are going to be so late.

  It is quite a while before I can convince myself that I have done everything deemed necessary in order to leave the room.

  I am full of apologies when I meet Ed. He simply brushes them off with kind words said with genuine feeling.

  'Don't worry about it.'

  If only.

  We eventually arrive at the office and Sally is immediately on us.

  'Decided to show up then did you?'

  'Sorry, I think jet lag is still messing me about. I completely slept through my alarm.' A very plausible excuse despite being very much a lie.

  No one in the Sydney office seems too bothered. We thankfully haven't missed any important meetings and one of the managers has not even arrived himself. I am aware that this is not the point though.

  Sally is not in the mood to let this go and later on when we are alone at our desks she says, 'You know Amy, it's really rude to be late. These guys are our hosts here and it looks really bad if you just saunter in whenever you feel like it.'

  'I know, I didn't do it on purpose.'

  'You are always late for stuff though. Even back at home you hardly ever make it to the office on time, do you?'

  She's right, I don't. I work late to make up the time, but mornings are not really my friend anymore. We used to have a lovely relationship. I never had a problem waking up early. I'd go to the gym, maybe even do some chores, and still make it into work earlier than most.

  Not anymore. I still have no problem waking up early. But productive tasks have been swapped for what my brain assures me are tasks of far greater importance. Tasks that unfortunately have no time attached to them. It doesn't really matter what time I set my alarm, there is no way of knowing when the tasks will be allowed to finish.

  So, I am now the friend of lateness.

  No, I'm not lazy. Yes, I do value your time. Yes, I am aware my phone tells the time.

  I just have no control in conforming to specific set times.

  I edit my answer to a shortened, 'I know, I'm rubbish. I do try but I guess I'm just one of those people that is always late.'

  'Hm. Guess so. Maybe try not drag Ed down with you though? You could have told him to leave with the rest of us.'

  I could have. But I know he would have ignored me and waited anyway. Going back and forth with further text messages arguing the matter would have only delayed things further.

  'I am not in control of Ed. He wanted to wait for me, so he waited.'

  She's annoying me now. Yes, I'm shit Sally. I know this. You know this. Do we really need to keep going on about it?

  'Of course he waited because that's the kind of person he is. Easily taken advantage of.'

  I know you want me to bite Sally, but I do not have the energy for this.

  'I'm going to go get some water, do you want some?'

  She looks at me clearly annoyed that I have ignored her request to build on this argument. But after a pause she reluctantly concedes to give in and answers with a simple 'No.'

  Chapter 24

  The end of the first week is upon us before we know it. Rob, one of the Sydney guys, informs us he's having a BBQ at his house in Manly on Saturday and we are all invited. Manly, we are told, is a beautiful beachey suburb a bit further out away from the centre.

  'You can drive there if you really wanted but it can be a bit of a nightmare. It's a much better idea to get the ferry.' He says. 'Way more scenic and the Manly ferry is a bit of an institution, so you have to experience it.'

  I like boats in principal, so this sounds appealing to me. Or rather, it sounds appealing for all of about one minute, before I am rudely interrupted and reminded to assess for all potential hazards going on a ferry may actually entail.

  Somehow, miraculously, I don't let my worries deter me from going though. I'm trying to squash them down in a pile I can hopefully leave at the hotel. This is a dangerous strategy I know as squashed things have a way of springing back up in full force at a later time, but I tell myself I will deal with that later when it happens.

  It is taking all my mental strength and I know I'm precariously close to running out, but I keep going anyway.

  The ferry trip is only around thirty minutes, so I try and view it just as a long bus ride. The main similarity I am trying to focus on being that I will be able to get off it relatively quickly if I need to. Granted, thirty minutes is quite a long time to be in distress if I were to find myself that way, but at least there is more space to move around so I'm hoping it's worth the risk.

  I can change seats without causing too much fuss or even stand outside. My brain seems to accept all this (albeit somewhat loosely) as indicating an ok environment. On account of this, along with being distracted by the beautiful views of Sydney and its suburbs, things don't start off too badly.

  We all spread out and Ed and I opt to sit outside. We sit in silence most of the way just taking in what we are seeing and appreciating the beauty of it all. It's proving quite successful at distracting me.

  As we turn a corner and Manly comes into view, we look at each other and smile.

  'People actually live here. You know that right? Why are we not doing the same?' he says.

  'It would be amazing wouldn't it. Waking up with all this in front of you. Maybe it wouldn't be as special if you saw it every day though.'

  'Maybe.' He pauses before adding 'Think we both agree that's pretty doubtful though isn't it?'

  'Yes.' I smile.

  It has been quite calming being on the sea, however this I suspect has only been a momentary sideshow from my rising encroaching fear. As we approach Manly, I start to recognise the familiar feelings of panic gracing me with their presence.

  We are quite far from the hotel and these ferries are not every five minutes. What if I start feeling really uncomfortable and need to leave? What if Rob has planned some activity that I don't want to participate in, and I have to sit looking awkward on the side-lines? What if he doesn't have handwash in his bathroom? The 'what ifs' are gathering speed and I seem powerless to work out how to stop them multiplying.

  I'm desperately wishing now that I had stayed back at the hotel. I was trying to tric
k my brain into pretending it would be ok, but this isn't a situation I'm good at being ok in, why did I think I should attempt it?

  I've gone too far now though and the easy option of backing out is no longer within grasp. I need to somehow figure my way through this.

  We depart the ferry and make the short walk to Rob's house. I stay entirely silent whilst the others are all chatting in happy moods. I presume they are happy anyway; I'm barely registering any of their words, but the noise of laughter frequently punctuates my awareness, so I think it's a fair assumption.

  When we arrive at Rob's house there are lots of people there.

  It feels like there are lots of people everywhere in Manly, it's a busy place. I see why. I just wish it wasn't.

  Many at the BBQ are from the Sydney office who I've already met, but there's quite a few new people too who I'm being introduced to with extended hands. I'm trying to behave in a socially acceptable way, but I fear my ability may be slipping. I'm finding it an increasing struggle to form a friendly expression and make more than a few words leave my mouth.

  Rob goes to greet me with a hug but seems to somehow sense this might not be a good idea and changes tact at the last minute, opting for a brief arm rub instead.

  Did I flinch? Did I recoil in horror? Internally certainly, but I plead it wasn't realised externally.

  Lots of people here are hugging in greeting. I used to greet friends that way too but now everyone who knows me, knows I am not a hugger. They assume this is just down to me becoming a person who does not like to hug. No underlying disturbing reason, just a person who doesn't enjoy hugging people.

  Lots of people fall into this category so it doesn't raise too much concern for weirdness if you confess to it. Unfortunately, I also fall into the much rarer category of not enjoying hugging but also being highly distressed by it.

 

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