“Text me to let me know when you get home,” Kattar said, as I left, Christmas Eve. I didn’t even know how to reply - just lifted one hand to let him know I heard him. 

I wanted to be anywhere but with him and I wanted to do anything but leave -

You can only…pick one.

And I’ve never made the right decision, at times like these.

The snow didn’t even seem to touch me. Melting as it fell through the air - making an unimpressive metamorphosis from darling petals of woven ice into homely frozen raindrops.

I didn’t make any particular effort to get anywhere quickly, despite the cold, so it was nearly midnight by the time the sunset on the ceiling welcomed me home. 

I flopped onto the clean sheets in my coat and dress - questioning whether I should even bother to text Kattar - he might have been sleeping. 

But he probably wasn’t.

I knew he wasn’t.

Dragging myself up onto my elbows I sent Kattar a quick picture of the dizzy ceiling before passing out.

I slept straight through the noise of the chickadees and the early morning traffic until 10:30 a.m. when the sound of hail brought me to my senses, and I noticed his text, then hours old.

“Make sure you get warmed up.”

I tried to shrug off the drowsiness, replying quickly, but groggily “I was warm enough - sorry I just saw your text. How did you sleep?”

The reply appeared immediately.

“Ok.”

“Was it cold over there?”

0.0002 seconds.

“It was fine.”

“How is your back doing?”

“It’s fine.”

I could have thrown my phone. 

That new but familiar surge flooded my throat like a high tide eating at my feelings and sympathy and washing them away in stormy oblivion. I wished I could scream at him through the cell.

Fine! Fine! He’s fine. We’re always fine. Never great. Never even good-!

“Why do we talk?” I almost spit, pounding my frustration into the innocent glass, “You never really tell me anything. You just say ‘Fine.’ ‘ok.’ ‘not bad.’ Day in and day out-”

I imagined I could see his face turning that sickly maroon shade of fury as the texts came in one after another – exploding white bubbles of raving letters-

“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY???”

No reply.

“Miserable?! Lonely?! Agonized?! Depressed?! But I shouldn’t use big words, right? It doesn’t suit me to be introspective. Sick of this house. Sick of sitting still in this chair and waiting for strangers to help me bathe - help me change my stupid clothes. Sick of living. Sick of laying awake in pain swearing at the ceiling, cursing my unlucky stars - all the stars - and the universe. Are you happy? Happy now?”

I could barely breathe - staring at the phone until the status symbol told me that Kattar had gone offline. Staring at the screen until it turned black. Staring at the black until the room went dark. Then I got up and closed the blinds so that if the sun ever did decide to come back it would know it wasn’t welcome around here.

*

It was only 4 o’clock when I woke up, but as dark as nightfall - the skyline smothered in clouds black as asphalt, like the sky was just mirroring the earth and earth was monkeying heaven - both thick with snow so infinite it might have been falling or ascending into the city of God for all I could tell. 

It was 12 below - and I didn’t care.

Bundling up against the cold, I stepped out onto the sidewalk and wandered - not knowing where I was going but knowing I had to go somewhere - walk as far as I could and then break down on the side of the road like a wounded vehicle - disappear into miles of nothing that led places I’d never been before until I was just an idea, smudged out by nature.

My feet brought me to the florist's shop, but it was closed, with a prettily painted sign saying it would be open again in the new year.

That was to be expected. Other people I suppose, had things to be doing on Christmas - people to be with.

A bouquet of lilies unnatural shades of black stood with their faces and leaves pressed against the window like tarry shadows, little demons with bats’ wings sucking on the glass, before wilting away into nothingness at hyperspeed.

I halted at the corner staring at the stop sign like a bad omen, blaring red in the blurry mist of white-

Go back.

But I didn’t.

Couldn’t be convinced to make a good decision.

Not at this point, when I’d come so far to finally break my own heart.

On my way to see the wizard, and ask to be turned to stone.

When I got to Kattar’s place the door was unlocked and the living room - awash with light - cratered with leftover footprints matting down the carpet - haunting intimations of a ghostly army - not long gone.

I forgot the caregivers would have to work on Christmas.

I forgot that he couldn’t live even one day without reminders of the accident.

That was my luxury - when I could learn to ignore the scars - and my demons grinding their teeth-

I guess that’s why he was crying - weeping quietly over a steaming bowl of broth like matzo ball soup was the most tragic thing under the sun.

I think I grew roots, right then-

I couldn’t think - I couldn’t speak - feeling all the reason pour out of me-

I thought I was coming to give him a piece of my mind.

-Thought - I was finally gonna tell him the “truth” - how furious I was - how sick of him I’d gotten-

Instead, I told him the truth. 

Kissed him -

                         Every one of my nerves on edge and skin sparking until the voices in my head exploded

‘til I didn’t know

                              If I should cry or start breathing again, cuz he didn’t fight it -

                                                                                                    But my body split the difference -

And woke me up for real.

*

I woke up burning - lungs on fire like I’d been running a marathon - and alone - but that’s.to be expected. - horribly used to it at this point - in my little hovel - trying to take my bearings.

I almost vomited when I did.

Went to the bathroom and showered until I couldn’t feel my skin, then drenched myself in clothing, ugly shades of fire, more miserable than I’ve been in too long. It hits harder in the rebound.

She doesn’t think it’s ever hurt like this before.

The morning of the 26th is brighter than it should be for the kind of Christmas I’ve had - but then again - maybe most of the world has been having a good time this ‘most wonderful time of the year.”

Life has never cared a whole lot about my opinion.

I don’t have the energy to try to smile back as Shannon greets me with his million-dollar grin.

He opens the door for me with a grandiloquent motion and a mockingly formal bow.

I don’t laugh - watch him follow me into the office with slight puzzlement painting his handsome face.

“Are you wearing perfume?” He asks as the door swings shut behind us.

“Sort of.”

He sits down at his desk and plops a thick folder on the empty surface before asking - without looking up at me: “Had a hot date at 9 in the morning?”

“No,” I reply miserably, almost certain I’m at the edge of another meltdown and Shannon can see it. All the joviality vanishes from his expression, and he leans a little forward over the desk.

“What happened, Alicia?” 

I don’t try to hold back the tears - but they won’t come.

“Kattar” I force the words through the thickness in my throat, recoiling at the sound of his name from my own lips, “He’s so cold…” Then the tears start like oceans of agony, “I can’t stand it anymore! I get - if he’s angry at me for the accident - because I forced him to go with me to the ceremony - but I wish he would just grow up and say something - tell me if he hates me - or if he wants me to stay around -instead of pretending like I don’t exist and giving me the bare minimum - leaving me hanging onto whatever bits of affection he has left - coming back like a dumb dog - even though he only calls me first when he wants me to do something, and never…never…”

I can’t breathe.

“I’m so done!”

Shannon gets out of his chair and rolls it around to the other side of the desk, sitting next to me until I find my voice again. Then we let the silence sink in, only broken by the choppy sobs slowly dying out, like the footsteps down the hallway.

The grief walks away and is replaced by venomous fury.

He offers me a tissue - which I accept - before asking sympathetically.

“I thought Mr. Sosa was the ex?”

"He is…" I say bitterly, squeezing the tissue to death, “Kattar and I have never been together.”

I try not to make that fact sound as painful as it is, but almost choke on it.

“Etan and I broke up before the award ceremony.”

“How long ago now?”

“Last spring. But it feels like forever ago at this point”

He tilts his head, urging me on - but I hardly need to be prompted at this point.

I spit it all out - Kattar, Etan, the roses, the sunset mural, the day at the Vegerra gallery- each memory falls like atom bombs and Shannon takes it all in, letting me vent until I stop of my own volition, never asking me to be reasonable - or telling me, it was too much - that it wasn’t professional - what we were here for-

It’s not until I finally stop talking that the voices make themselves heard - though I’m still seething.

I’m such a coward - smiling to everyone’s face and then complaining about them behind their backs because I couldn’t stand the thought of making them angry with me by telling the truth, and letting them know - just what I’m thinking.

That’s what ended things between Etan and me, and up until now, Kattar has been the one listening to my back-biting rants.

How angry would he be if he knew…?

But then, he knows me. He had to see it coming.