Lovin'...

I woke up on Monday trying to mentally prepare for a twelve hour day in class. Charlie and I shared coffee and breakfast, then I was off. Everything that was happening today was going to be fun and interesting, it was just going to be long.
I don’t know if it was the caffeine or what but I was losing my mind in the middle of everything. Mel was showing me how to do a particular haircut and I was concentrating so hard I thought I might explode. I’m trying to absorb her every word, to do this as perfectly as possible while paying attention to not making the mistakes she tells me are common. When she’s done explaining, I’m on my own and am happy with what I did, but it still needs work.
Switching gears a couple of hours later, my male model cancels for men’s class and I go out to find another. When that doesn’t happen, I watch a demo on the haircut I’m working on, ask questions and try to again, absorb everything. I feel I’m going at a hundred miles an hour with no sign of slowing down. It’s like I’m afraid to because I’m running from something at the moment and work is giving me something else to focus on.
After men’s class we’re all heading to our Lincoln Park salon for a hairshow that some graduating assistants are putting on. I walk with my co-worker Alyx down North Ave in search of the bus. She asks how everything is going and I tell her how class is going well, I’m happy with Charlie but grief is sneaking up on me again and I don’t know how to talk about it or what to do with it.
“I keep having these random memories pop up outta no where.” I tell her. “They’re happening at the most inappropriate times and I don’t know what to do with them or where they’re coming from.”
“What sort of memories?” she asks.
“Hmm… like an image of Rob and me at dinner will pop up, or I’ll remember something he said, or an expression on his face I liked will come up. Sometimes images of his funeral will appear, I never know what it’ll be. It’s all these tiny little things. I don’t know what sparks them.”
“I think that’s normal I also think it’s because you still need him in some way or another.” she says without looking at me.
I nod, trying to wrap my mind around it. Of course I do. He left me here but in a way, I believe he’s still around. He’s the one that makes me get up in the morning when I don’t want to. He’s the one that moves my pen across the paper, that fuels my legs to make them run. He puts the smile on my face when I’d rather cry. He pushes me to take better care of myself, to say what’s in my head, to be decisive, and his former presence here and elsewhere has opened my heart to receive the love of another person.
Alyx and I are quiet after that and minutes later the bus is behind us. We get to Lincoln Park early and sit in the break room laughing with our other co-workers so hard my stomach hurt. I’m reminded again of how happy I am to be here not only at Art+Science but in Chicago as well.
The show the girls put on was fabulous and had me wondering how much time went into it and how they got everything to come together so perfectly. At the end of our training program, we’ll all be doing the same thing. For me, that’s too much to think about right now.
When everything is over Alyx and I head to a bar next door. Charlie is on his way to pick me up and Alyx’s boyfriend is also on his way. We’re there a few minutes when my phone beeps with a text from Charlie saying he’s out front. I hug her goodbye and race outside to jump in his car, so happy to see him I can barely form words. I just want to calm down.
“Thanks for coming to get me.” I smile at him.
“Of course.” he nods.
In my head I had gone back and forth between wanting to ask him to go out for drinks and just staying home. At this point I was fine either way. As I was about to ask he piped up and said “ I want a martini. Do you mind if we stop at the store?”
“Not at all. I was going to ask you if you wanted to get drinks tonight.” I smile.
We both admit that neither of us are in great moods and get to the store rather quickly.
“I was thinking about making some muffins for breakfast tomorrow.” he says as we’re wandering.
“That would be fabulous.”
We find the muffin mix, alcohol and a few other things before checking out and heading home.
Once settled in the kitchen he makes the martinis, carefully garnishing my sweet one with fruit and his “dirty” one with olives after turning off the light and lighting a candle. For the first time all day I sit back and exhale.
It doesn’t take long for martini number one to be consumed. I’m on the edge of wanting another and saying no because I’m interested in functioning tomorrow. When he asks I find myself saying yes though thinking I’m fine an will be fine.
As I float into comfortable drunkenness I talk his ear off. Wine appears on the table and is consumed by both of us. I watch him get up and put together the batter for the muffins and bake them. I have no concept of time, or what it is I’m saying at this point. When he sits down with me again, I look at his eyes and notice that everything around me is spinning. Oops. Too. Much. Alcohol. Why did I do this? It always sounds like a good idea at the time.
“Darlin’. The room is spinning.” I grin.
“Uh oh. Hang on.” he gets up and pours a glass of water. “Drink this.”
I do and he looks at my hands. “We need to get your lotion on.”
I went to the doctor for my dermatitis a few weeks ago. If it weren’t for Charlie applying the medicated cream to my busted skin I’d have no fingers left. I’m embarrassed to admit that sometimes, on some level or another I almost enjoy the pain in my hands because it gives me something else to focus on rather than deal with what’s in my head. I’d like to deal with my head but I don’t know how so until then, I’m going to let my hands crack and bleed and maybe eat a cookie or several until I can figure it out. Of course doing these things pulls me farther away from figuring it out but I’ll get tired of this game eventually…
I’m trying to breathe while watching Charlie’s warm hands spread the thin cream over my fingers. The room is still spinning. I hate this feeling. I drink more water while he works on the other hand.
“Ok. You’re all set. Lets get you to bed.” he says, screwing the top back on the cream.
I nod, carefully stand, walk into his room, and fall into bed.
The next morning I’m so deeply saddened I don’t want to move. My head doesn’t hurt but I’m moving slowly. This is why I don’t drink. There is always a chance that I’m going to be eaten up with grief the next morning. There is no pinpointing what it is or what it feels like but really deep sadness that I don’t know what to do with and can’t explain which eventually makes me angry.
Charlie makes coffee and breakfast. I don’t have to be at work until one. He’s on and off the computer, washing dishes etc…while I’m still immobile at the table. He’s talking and walks into the living room where I can’t hear him. I stand up and follow him as he adjusts the music that’s playing. He walks toward me, heading for the kitchen again and I wrap my arms around him and hug him. His arms wrap around me and pull me further into him. I breathe him in, listening to his heart beat and press my palms into his back. Neither of us say a word as we rub each other’s backs. My eyes fill up with tears and before I can stop them, they’re overflowing and I’m shaking.
“Hey.” Charlie’s quiet voice vibrates against my ear. “ Hey, what’s going on?” he asks gently.
I don’t know. I can’t speak, just keep crying. His hand finds the back of my head and rubs it while I hang on tighter to him.
“C’mere. Let me rub your back.” he says leading me to his room. I lay down on my stomach while he rubs the tightened muscles. My tears stop and start and stop again.
After a while he stops and tells me to run home, get ready for work and come back for lunch. “Kay.” I smile, get my things and go home where I stand under a scalding spray of water for an eternity before realizing that I need to get moving. I get dressed, put on make-up, get my work things in order and walk back to Charlie’s feeling somewhat human again.
Lunch is ready when I get there and he kisses me hello. We’re quiet when we sit down and I watch him for a minute trying to speak without crying again.
“I am…” I start, still struggling to get this out. “…the luckiest person on this planet to have you.”
He smiled and said, “I’m glad to have you too.”