Christian left me alone after that.
He hovered slightly, almost snatching up some clothes, and
then he went into the bathroom, firmly closing the door behind him.
Very firmly. I wouldn’t admit to myself that he’d slammed
it, I just told myself that he’d closed it very firmly.
It felt so empty in here after he’d gone. Really cold; the
atmosphere was all heavy and tense, and I’d been left with a really churning
feeling in my stomach, and a heart that was about to break.
I really wished I hadn’t had to have that whole scene with
him just now, but I had to tell him how I felt. I couldn’t just go along after
that, pretending I was ‘cool’ with this situation; and that I could handle it,
because I couldn’t… I wouldn’t have been able to.
But the hurt in his face when I’d said some of the things
I’d said…
Maybe if I had had more time to think, I would have handled
it better and gone about it more sensitively. ‘Cos he was sensitive, and
I’d forgotten that.
But even though I’d felt awful saying some of those things
to him, it had to be said… some of what he was saying was pretty fantastical,
and he needed to be put right.
Last night had been amazing? Yeah, come off it! It can’t
have been from what I can remember, which was in total, not a great deal. Why I
couldn’t I remember it?!! It bugged me a lot.
And saying he was in love with me? That was so
ridiculous! He’s only known me for 5 minutes. I didn’t believe in love at first
sight, so I didn’t believe he was. He just thought he was.
Or said it cos he wanted a reaction, I
thought bitterly.
But I wish he hadn’t said that.
You know when people say things to you, and you know
they’re not true, but because they mean so much to you, you know you’ll never
forget them?
It was like that. It was like those words had just lodged
themselves into my head, and they wouldn’t go, even though I continually told
myself he was wrong.
But in a way, I wanted them so much to be true, that was
what was making them stay. I couldn’t help wondering.
I didn’t know where I stood with him now.
I just sat there, staring at the bathroom door after him,
feeling all empty and weird inside. I didn’t want him to be angry with me, or
upset, and I didn’t want to him to break up with me… even though I still didn’t
feel as though we were together.
We’d been on one date. One!
God, how sex screwed everything up.
I slowly managed to get dressed back in to my clothes from
the night before, and it was such a relief to get out of that bed, and get away
from all those bad, if not entirely full, memories.
God, 24 hours ago… I was sooo fine, sooo fine! And now…
I made his bed for him, suddenly noticing how big it was-
must be a king-size one. And even though he’d told me I wasn’t a fling, or a
one-night stand, I couldn’t stop the, ‘how many girls have been in this bed
before me?’ thought run through my head.
And out of them, how important was I?
When I was more-or-less ready, I sat on the bed and waited
for him to come out of the bathroom, from which he had still not emerged. I
needed a wash too, and then… he could take me home.
Like I wanted- right?
Whilst I was waiting for him, I had a good look around his
bedroom. I hadn’t looked last night… obviously, because we’d been much too busy
doing other things, so I gave it a good linger.
And it was so typically Christian. It was really spacious…
it felt weird being in a bedroom that had so much room. I was sat on the side
of the bed that I’d slept in… ugh… which was the left, and on that side
there was the window that had woken me up, the light streaming through it onto
my face. It was lessened at the minute though by the blinds. Suddenly wondering
what the time was, I looked around for a clock. I turned round, and on his side
of the bed was his bed-side table. The digital clock read 8: 47am.
Hmmm, still quite early, then.
Christian was still in there, I wondered if he was okay. I
should maybe go and check up on him… ‘cept I daren’t.
I sighed, and turned around to face the window again. The
wardrobe was on this side too, but closed right now. Then there was a table
next to that, and aha! I’d found one of the famous guitars! Leant up against
the table… it just made me think of what kind of songs he’d written on there,
how many tunes he’d made up.
My eyes followed the rest of the room round… the door to
the hall was next to the table, and next to that a floor lamp… and then a
Hi-Fi. Then the door to the bathroom… still closed… then a chest of drawers,
and a bookcase… then I was back at the bedside table again, and the bed. It was
a really nice room actually, really spacious, neat, and had a real homey feel
too, a real Christian-y feel. But it was too big without him; too empty.
On top of the bedside table I could see the clock, and a
lamp, but on the one next to me- which was really just three small drawers- I
caught sight of my spider clip, that he’d taken off last night, and put on
there. And my hair was still loose. I gathered that up, but didn’t put my hair
back how it had been, I couldn’t be bothered; I had no energy. All my energy
was being lost on thought.
Looking at the drawers, I suddenly remembered that’s where
he’d got the condom from…
Suddenly intrigued, I reached out to open the drawer… and
then I heard the bathroom door open behind me, making me jump a little.
I instinctively turned around, and he stepped out, fully
clothed now, and washed, and hair done… oh, he looked so cute, but the
expression on his face when he looked at me was full of embarrassment and hurt.
Then he wouldn’t even look at me, he awkwardly avoided my
eyes as he said quietly, “you can go and get washed now, if you like. Then I’ll
take you home.”
I thought that I was going to cry.
Everything was so messed up between us now, after that one
night.
He didn’t wait for me to reply, he just walked over to the
table, and took a tray off it… I could see two cups of coffee and a plate of
toast… that he’d made all for us. I felt so bad.
I think he was also upset about, not just how I was
reacting towards sleeping with him last night, but the whole Tim thing.
In a way, I couldn’t believe I’d told him about that. I’d
made Tim out to be like my boyfriend or something… a really big deal. When it
wasn’t. It really wasn’t.
He was just some crush… what was so big about that?
He didn’t matter half as much as Christian did.
But… because of last night… the future for us was looking
so bleak.
Without being in here for a single breath, he’d disappeared
again with the tray, this time probably to the kitchen.
I slowly stood up and went into the bathroom, and sorted
myself out. I could shower and change when I got home.
When I got out, feeling a little better, but still sticky
and… well; I’d just had sex for the first time in two years, how do you think I
felt?!!
He wasn’t in the hallway, so I let myself into the kitchen
to find him and… Woah. STUDIO ALERT!!
It was a massive room, but divided. One half was a kitchen
area, and the other quite obviously a studio. At least 4 guitars that I could
see, 2 keyboards, a synthesizer, and a
lap top plugged in nearby, resting on the surface of a nearby counter.
It just looked so abstract there, it had caught me off
guard as I hadn’t been expecting it. So I just stared at it a moment in
amazement and fascination.
“That’s my studio,” his voice came from behind me, and I
jumped yet again.
I must seriously be on edge this morning.
“Where I write all of my songs,” he added. “Well… most of
them.”
I turned around to look at him, but his expression was
still that of a hurt and bruised soul.
Before I could reply he said, “shall we go, then?”
I think he wants me gone, I thought, a little
panickingly. I don’t think he likes me much anymore.
I simply nodded, telling myself this was what I’d asked
for, so why was I complaining?
‘Cos he wants me to go, that’s why!! I
thought miserably. He’s not even trying to make me stay. He’s given up.
He walked past me, and I followed him, picking up my bag as
he picked up some keys and we walked to the front door. We left the flat
quickly, and headed to the yellow Fiat Punto. I thought of last night, and all
the lovely memories of us having our first date (even though I’d been as
nervous as hell), but they seemed so far away now, and everything was
different…
He got into the driver’s side, and I the passengers, and
then we were off.
It really was all as quick as that- and was done in
complete silence.
I had a feeling he was angry with me, probably for being so
insensitive, heartless, and… well, no fun, really. And I didn’t know
what to say to him… think he’d had enough of me, anyway.
So resigned, we both sat in complete silence as he drove me
home.
I rested my head on my hand and stared out of the window,
just concentrating on getting home. Looking out of the window, I recognized the
neighbourhood- so I had known where I was after all. We passed the big
Anglican church that I always used as a signpost for anything in Greenwich, and
I knew where I was straight away, and knew where Christian lived. I carried on
watching the more and more familiar scenery as I got closer to my flat, not
even daring to glance over at Christian.
God, what a fucking nightmare this had turned into. Never
in a million years did I think this would have happened. This is me,
for Godsake. Things like this don’t happen to me!
The car began to slow down and I recognized my road. It
pulled up outside my flat, and then stopped.
No sound of engine, or cars rushing by now to fill in the
gaps. Just complete and utter silence. I daren’t even breathe in case he picked
up on it, we just sat there really awkwardly staring ahead a minute, and when I
glanced at his reflection briefly in the windscreen and saw him looking at
mine, I embarrassedly looked away, and opened the car door quickly.
“I better go,” I said quietly, turning away.
“So- what now?” He said clearly and un-emotionally,
stopping me dead.
I looked up at him slowly, and he took his attention away
from straight ahead, back to me. He looked so blank now. The car journey had
seemed to make him cold.
And now it was hurting me.
“What happens now?” He asked.
“I… I…” I didn’t know what to say. I wish he didn’t look
like that. “I-I need to go home… have some time to myself, do some
thinking… decide whether… whether I want to be with you or not, whatever this
relationship is what I need right now.”
“How am I going to know?” He asked, at least now beginning
to show some emotion. He looked frustrated.
“I’ll… I’ll…” I paused a moment to think. “I’ll… call
you. Tonight. Around 6, or something. I can’t promise you I’ll know what I want
by then. It may take a few nights… but I’ll phone you… just to tell you… how
I’m feeling then.”
That seemed to draw a lot of spirit from him; a lot of
hope.
He reached out and took my hand. “Promise you’ll phone me?”
He said, looking right into my eyes.
“I promise,” I told him.
“Please, please promise me that you’ll phone, I need you
to promise,” he begged earnestly.
“Christian… I promise!” I said again, looking
faintly confused.
“You really, really promise?!” He looked so desperate… his
eyes were pleading with me.
“Christian, I promise I’ll phone you tonight,” I
sighed, feeling slightly suffocated, and I broke away from him and put my foot
out the car door and pushed it open further.
Christian stared at me a little longer, I could see his
eyes looking all over my face, as if trying to see if I was telling the truth
or not.
Then he suddenly leaned into my lips, to kiss them.
I reacted fast, and turned away quickly, so his lips hit my
cheek.
When he realized he hadn’t kissed me, he leant back and
gave me another pained expression.
I studied the dashboard. “Goodbye Christian,” I said, and I
climbed out of the car, and then closed it behind me. Christian didn’t take his
eyes off me. He looked so hurt.
I tried not to look back as I made my way up the steps to
the front door, even though I knew he was watching me from the car. I
found my key, and let myself in, closing the front door fast behind me in
relief, in case he decided to follow me in here.
I just needed some space.
I threw my bag down and just stood there a minute, gasping
for breath, realizing it had been hard to breathe with him around. It was such
a relief for him not to be here. I felt all my defences coming down, and all
the emotions suddenly building and rising.
I walked over to the lounge area, feeling even awkward in
my own home, as I just stood there and looked about. And then I caught sight of
the bunch of roses that were still lying in the sink, waiting to be put into…
the new vase. The new vase he’d bought me last night. My eyes moved to that
too, and I saw just how beautiful it was.
Tears began to well up in my eyes as I thought of the time
building up to the date last night- all the excitement, and the nervous energy,
all the hope of a new relationship, how much I loved his company and how soft
his kisses were… and all the wonderful things I was looking forward to.
And then I thought of last night- and how we’d had
non-consented sex on his bed.
And I threw myself down onto the sofa and burst into tears.
It waited there, 10… 15 minutes, not moving, the driver not being able to tear himself away from the covered window of the building. But slowly, slowly, giving up any hope of a retrieval, the yellow Fiat Punto gently pulled away, and disappeared down the street.