catacombs

valentines by Skinny Ships

she coughs a few times, casually covering her mouth with a loose fist. places what's left of the cigarette into a jar and closes the lid.
'are you sick?' She shakes her head no.  (that happens sometimes she explains)
'So your plan is working?' She knows what I mean. maybe. _it's slow.
'How fast would you prefer?' She smiles sadly: i'm ready whenever.

i wish her plan had worked. i used to feel guilty having that thought. i don't anymore.


___*___*___*

how does your weekend look? he asks me. i don't want to explain. quiet i say. that might be a lie. i can't tell. it's noisy on the inside. but he probably wouldn't understand that. he likes telling me about his 'dates'. that's a euphemism. i usually like hearing about them, but i'm not in the mood to indulge it now. he loiters a few minutes and leaves me alone again.

i stay at work as late as i can and sneak past the friday-drinks crew unnoticed. get outside. inhale. ___walk. ___walk. __walk.

it's an unfortunate placement. if i turn right, i'm basically home. if i go left across the street i know a sure-way to get some sleep tonight.

minutes pass.


___*___*___*

* want me to come over?

* no. yes. maybe. i don't know. i can't tell.

* what are you doing?

* at this point amusing myself by stumbling around the house

* what?


___*___*___*

i had been stumbling around the house. but first i tried to find a decent poem i'd written. i looked through four years of writing and couldn't find anything right. disappointed by how noisy it still was in my head i played one page of a mozart sonata, clumsily, over and over. it was jagged and my fingers felt massive. it took all the concentration i had to hit the right note. i liked that. still noisy in my head. i sporadically walked to the kitchen and poured another. (after the second or third i'd decided it tasted unpleasant so would drink each shot down in one gulp. be done with it).

after a while the unbalance set it. i took a shower with one hand against the wall. walked from room to room trying to decide whether the lights should be on or off.

when she gets there i'm lying on the floor looking at the ceiling.


___*___*___*

- she threw me out.
- she didn't throw you out.
- she did. ___and stop taking sides.
- ...
- you're not going to say anything?
- [shrug] i'm out of words. i've been out of words for years.
- how are you going to help me- ___never mind actually. you can't.
- ...
- you can't.


___*___*___*

out of habit i kiss my way into a hug. it's too hard to just hug. too intimate. too vulnerable. ___she's surprised too. she hadn't expected that transition. ___what's going on? ___(i'm hidden in her neck) what? oh nothing. i'm glad you're here. ___why? ___i was lonely. ___is that it?


___*___*___*

* what are you doing?


* at this point amusing myself by stumbling around the house


* what? / i thought you were going home for the weekend?

* couldn't bear it. not just yet. go in morning.

* what's going on?  want me to come?

* i'm not really myself.

* oh dear. i'm on my way.


___*___*___*

when she comes in i offer her tea. (anyone who enters my doorway i offer tea). i put the kettle on and stumble back to the couch breathing loudly. face flushed. i'm relieved when she doesn't ask any questions about my state. just accepts this is what tonight is.


___*___*___*

these aren't nice places q. you think everything is going to be fine, you think it's all okay, these aren't nice places. you don't know - you don't anything about it. you have your nice house, you enjoy that, go live in your nice house and i'll go live with the crazy people and the beds are so uncomfortable i was crying because my back hurt. you know what they said? you know what they said: sleep in your wheelchair. sleep in your wheelchair that's what they said. so i did. for like.. 10 days or something. you think that's fine? is that your idea of fine? no, of course. so don't think you're helping. you're not helping, you can't help. it's not your fault. you can't. go live your life. i'm happy for you.


___*___*___*

we're naked on the floor. then on the dining room table. ___wait... is that rain? ___it is. ___take me outside.
___i take her hand and grab a towel as i pass the laundry. open the back door and stumble through the paved path. there's moss grown on most of it now so it's slippery. i slip and fall naked into a patch of wet leaves. she laughs, takes my hand and lifts me back up. in the middle of my backyard, trees on all sides. there's no fence but unless the neighbours come to their back verandah we should be fine. even then i think we'd probably just waive and laugh. she's on top. i'm distracted. the sky is ash-coloured. the tree branches make a strange silhouette. my head is still noisy. what's wrong? 'it's still noisy, i thought it would stop that' shhh. close your eyes, feel the rain.
___the rain picks up, full storm. we come running in - me having slipped on the path again - i'm shaking and convulsing. she's laughing at me. straight to the shower! i say! straight straight in.


___*___*___*

- q the cab's here. you coming?
- yes. but i have a sneaky suspicion there's a condom in the middle of my backyard that i should probably deal with now.
- now?
- i'll forget about it. and will forget about it till - my luck - there's a bbq and my grandmother finds it or it ends up in the dog's mouth.
- go. ___just... find it.


___*___*___*

did i leave any of my pills here? she exhales some smoke (no coughing this time). she doesn't know.
- i thought you stopped.
- i did.
- so why are you looking for them?
- circumstances changed.
- my circumstances changed. don't know why that means you need pills.


___*___*___*

i rush home. my shirt's half unbuttoned before i open the front door. i'm two drinks deep before i put the key down. three drinks deep before i shower. finish what's left after - no time to mix anymore, just drink straight in one gulp. take deep breaths. crawl on my hands and knees to the couch. get in my blanket. won't be long now, just close your eyes won't be long now. you'll sleep now. this is the best idea you've had in days. you'll just sleep now. you'll just close you'll


___*___*___*

- why do i feel like you have something you want to tell me?
- i don't.
- what's wrong with you then, tell me what you're thinking.
- honestly: nothing. i'm just sad. i don't know how to fix it, i don't even know what a good result looks like. i'm tired of... thinking about it. i just don't care.
- well thanks for stopping by and spending some time with her.
- i didn't really. i couldn't bear it. the house - the vibe is all wrong - it's...
- it's sad.
- yah. and the dog is sad. she knows something's up. she kept putting her head on my chest and looking at me questioningly...


___*___*___*

when you read a lot about genocide and extraordinary atrocities you are numbed a little. and then, you'll read some little detail that has nothing to do with anything and for some reason, that detail will be a kernel, an atom of the whole mess. and you'll breakdown. i'm not telling you mine, because, frankly, i'm sorry i ever read it. i'm sorry it's in my head and i don't want it to be yours. but a friend of mine, he was at the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda. he'd been there a few months and was coping okay. then he saw some footage. videotape. dead bodies everywhere (fine). machetes strewn across the dirt paths (fine). then two dogs walking side by side with blood on their mouths and noses. he said the horror was overwhelming. he collapsed in a fit of awe and pain and stumbled to a bathroom stall to throw up.


___*___*___*

the dog's sadness is the most unbearable for me. i try and be extra sweet to her. play with her. speak lovingly to her. but she can tell. all i remember is how everyone spoke to me when my parents were getting divorced. her confused sadness is unbearable.


___*___*___*

- what's wrong?
- moving makes me sad. packed boxes make me sad.
- anything else?
- everything.
- when you come back tomorrow bring your pills. we have work to do.


___*___*___*

i hid the empty bottle at the bottom of the trash. i'm throwing everything out of the cabinets. - what are you doing?
- looking for something that will help me sleep.
- warm milk?
i stare at him as i think about it.
- lexopro. what's that?
- an antidepressant.
- will it make me sleep?
- i don't think so.
i take one and keep looking.


_