Five Months...

This whole time I’ve been gone, I haven’t paid attention to the date or taken the time to think about what day it is, but today, upon waking up, I somehow knew it was Saturday, September 20th. Rob has been gone five months today. The twentieth of every month will always resound in my head no matter what. I’ll always hear my dad’s voice as if he were telling me about Rob’s accident all over again more so on the twentieth of the month than any other day.
I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. I roll out of bed.
“Hi.” I answer, not thinking that it could be someone other than Olov on the line.
“Hey. I’ve got some bad news.” It’s Olov.
“What’s that?” I ask, already knowing he’s stuck at work.
“I’m still at work. The girl that was coming in to relieve me, didn’t come in and we can’t get a hold of her, so we’ve called someone else, and I have to wait for him to get here. It’s going to take an hour and a half for him to get here.”
“Good. Lord.” I reply.
“I’m not going to be able to sleep at all by the time I get home.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So I guess I’ll see you as soon as I can.”
“Ok. I might be at Creem.” I reply. He’s fine with that. We hang up and I get dressed, thinking about Rob, trying to identify my feelings. I’m ok. Just ok.
When I get down the street I see that I have another half hour before Creem opens. I go for a walk.
The sun hasn’t really come out yet. Thick, light gray clouds cover the sky. I stop every so often to peek into various stores before heading back to get caffinated.
Benny isn’t working today. A woman with olive skin and big brown eyes makes a latte for me and I sit in the window again to write. I’m not there long before Olov appears in the doorway.
“Hey!” I stand up and hug him. He sits with me. “Latte?” I offer.
“No thanks.” he smiled.
“So you made it huh?”
“Yes, finally but we still don’t know what happened to the girl.”
“Crazy.”
“I still need to shower and get things together for the game.”
“Ok.” I nod and take a big gulp of latte. He tells me about his night at work. I contemplate telling him what today is and about the Nutella incident from last night, but decide not to. At least not at the moment.
I finish my latte and we head back to his apartment. He quickly gets everything together and we’re off again. We take the train to another part of the city and find the book sale. I trail after him, looking at the various books with titles I can’t read and watch his excitement when he comes across something he finds interesting.
We’re not there long before he seems satisfied with what he’s found. After paying we’re on our way back to the underground.
“Got something for you.” he tells me.
“Me?” I look him as if he could be talking to someone else.
“Yeah, it’s a comic book.” he reaches into the bag and pulls out a purple book and hands it to me. “It’s written in English and the comics are by Scandinavian artists.”
“Thank you!” I exclaim, flipping through the pages. I wondered where he found this one. I obviously saw nothing in English.
“Welcome.” he nods.
We make it to the underground and it’s taking a while for the train to come. We’re quiet as I’m staring off into space and he’s reading the comic book. My plan is to read it on the flight home.
In what seemed like no time at all, we’re at the residence of the Royal family. A huge body of water is in front of the enormous mansion and lined with immaculately kept grass and cute benches. We walk around the side of the place and into the gardens. The sun is out and it’s getting a bit warm. I reach into my bag and pull my sunglasses out, placing them on my face. Olov watches me and starts laughing.
“What?”
“Those glasses.”
“What about ‘em?”
He’s still laughing. “I can’t take you seriously wearing those.”
“That is so not nice!” I start laughing. “I love these and have gotten nothing but compliments on them.”
“They’re still funny.” he continues.
We walk through the garden, stopping at a fountain and sitting on a bench in front of it.
“Let me see those.” Olov says about my glasses. When I hand them to him and he puts them on, it’s my turn to laugh.
“See?” he says as if trying to prove a point.
“Well of course they look funny on you!” I giggle. “You look like a bug!”
He hands them back and I wonder if I look like a bug. I decide that if so, I’m ok with that.
We’re quiet for a while. The weather is unbelievable. The sky is now scattered with fluffy white clouds, the sun is out and it’s not too hot. It looked just like this the day that Rob died. I’ll never forget looking up at the sky, outside of the coffee shop, listening to my dad crying, waiting for him to tell me what happened. Thoughts moved through my mind like “Whatever he has to say, I can handle it…” Never did I ever expect to hear I just lost one of the most special people to ever cross my path, and at such an odd time. We were just getting settled into a relationship, just getting used to the idea of each other. It was a clear, perfect day outside. Bad things aren’t supposed to happen on perfect days right?
The thought crosses my mind again to tell Olov but when I open my mouth, I close it again and sit quietly.
“C’mon.” he says, standing. “We’ve got maybe an hour before we have to catch the bus.”
“Ok.”
We walk further into the garden, stopping to take pictures then heading back to the bus. It’s late and he’s getting anxious. Ten minutes later it shows up. We’re still quiet. I’m taking in the scenery out here. The land is becoming more and more desolate, the further out we go. It seems to me that the sky appears to hang lower out here in Sweden than at home. It’s almost as if I had a tall enough ladder. I could climb to the top, reach up and sink my hand into a cloud.
“This is us.” Olov pipes up as the bus stops. We hop off and I follow him toward the soccer field. We meet up with the other two refs. I stand there, feeling silly as they speak Swedish. I don’t know what to do with myself. I end up sitting at a picnic table while they go off to a building and get changed. Gray looking clouds begin to take over the sky again. I watch as a team of soccer players begin to warm up. Olov and the other two refs appear and begin their own warm up. Shortly after the game starts, I make my way over to the bleachers and watch for 90 minutes as the ball gets kicked up and down the long field, Olov raising a flag every now and then. It’s quiet, chilly and peaceful out here. There are horses in the background and a tractor roaming around. Unidentified crops line the road and I wonder what it’s like to live out here. Are people happy or lonely? What happens in the winter when everything is covered in snow? So many random thoughts going through my head. I stop to think about Rob some more but those thoughts are fleeting as well.
Once the game ends, I wait as Olov changes clothes and we’re off again, back on the bus to the city.
“So you’ve seen Stockholm, a suburb of Stockholm and the country since you’ve been here.” Olov tells me.
“I know!” I smile.
“You’ve also seen what my daily life consists of.”
“Yup, and you’ve seen mine, minus the haircutting.”
“I work, and everything else is soccer!” he exclaims.
“I know!” I laugh. “I work, write and run mostly.”
The sun begins to set as we get closer to the city.
“What are you doing tonight?” I ask him.
“Crashing as soon as we get home.”
I laugh, forgetting he hasn’t slept yet. I still have enough energy to fuel us both, surprisingly. I stare out the window watching everything go by. I want to absorb every detail. I’ll never get this again. Sure, I could go back to Sweden but this moment, right here, will never happen again and it makes me sad.
When we get back to his place, I’m hungry and still want company for dinner. He declines when I ask.
“Where are you going to go?” he asks anyway.
“I’m going to find a Thai place.” I pull on my jacket again.
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Probably around the corner, or down the street.” I saw two places there on my first day in Stockholm.
“Both of them are good.” he says, turning the TV on.
We say goodbye and I end up walking down the street. It’s a small little place with a cute chandelier hanging in the window. I’m greeted by a pretty Asian woman who speaks English and hands me an English menu when I sit down.
Dinner is delicious. I spend all my time alternating between bites and writing many, many paragraphs in my journal, occasionally looking up to investigate people coming and going. One couple catches my eye while they’re waiting on food for take-away. They’re facing each other, completely wrapped up in their own world, holding hands and grinning at each other. I swore I wouldn’t sit here and ask “why?” after Rob died. Why is my person gone, but here I am, alone in a restaurant halfway around the world, salivating over the sweetness of this other couple asking “why?” Where are the strong hands that used to ask for mine, the green eyes that expressed more love than his words ever did, the calmness that would come over me when he was next to me. Where is he dammit? I miss my person.
I pay for dinner and head back to Olov’s. He’s still awake watching TV.
“How was dinner?” he asked?
“Delicious.” I smile, standing in the doorway.
“Where’d you go?”
I told him, unable to pronounce the name of it.
“Oh yeah, that place is good. What are you up to now?”
“I think I’m going to Gamla Stan again.” I reply, still half hoping he’ll join me.
“I’m going to bed soon.” he replies.
“Kay.”
“When are you coming back?”
“Don’t know.” I reply, going to the kitchen for my bag. We say goodbye and I head out the door and to the underground.
Tears find me on the train again without warning. I blink them back and get off at the next stop. I walk until I get to the underground café I went to earlier. The doors are closed and loud, live music is playing. Hmm. Maybe not tonight. I keep walking and stumble across another café. I order hot chocolate and a piece of carrot cake. I sit against a pillow that is against a window and write, stopping every so often to think. My co-worker crosses my mind. I imagine he’d like this little spot. When I can’t sit still anymore I leave and keep walking. It’s chilly outside but clear. The stars are twinkling and I stop to think how long it’s been since I’ve seen stars. I have no idea.
I’m not sure how much time has gone by before I stumble upon the chocolate café again. There is plenty of outdoor seating and despite the chilliness of the air I stop by, sitting at a small table. I wrap my legs up in a fleece blanket and order yet another hot chocolate. I’m never going to sleep tonight with all this sugar.
I pull my journal out again but I’m slower to write, too busy taking in everything around me. I’m afraid of getting so engrossed in my writing that I’ll miss something. Yet, I also feel that I’ll forget something if I don’t write it all down. I sit back in my chair, holding the hot chocolate in both hands watching the moon rise over a building. Don’t think I’ve seen anything quite like that before.
Still, with all this fabulousness, I’m having trouble relaxing. Thoughts of food creep in along with anxiety about returning home. The week is almost over. It’s not that I don’t to see everyone once I get home, I’m just not quite ready yet…
I don’t know what time it was when I returned home but I knew I couldn’t sleep. I stayed up for God knows how long, reading until I don’t remember reading anymore…