The following evening, I found myself at my neighbor’s door, hoping to make an apology for what had happened. “Come in,” they called out.
I entered. “Look,” I started--
“No, it’s ok. It’s time that I started to explain some things--“
I took a seat.
“A lot seems to change when abroad, like when you started going home with Jon, and years later, I found myself waiting on some stone steps--“
“I thought we weren’t going to do this again?”
“The New York City ‘incident’ was overcome, then forgiven, and I swear to god, at your father’s house, we were in love still, or once again.”
“I came over here to apologize, you know, about last night.”
“You might have believed your innocence, right up until your confession; but you still adverted your eyes and told me lies when convenient.”
“I’m sorry. I’m going to leave before this degrades any further.”
“You apologize in hipster dives, reminding me that our love’s alive--Well, I never needed reminding, no, it’s you who needs to be told--“
I got up to leave, and they grabbed my arm, and began screaming:
“You! You don’t know the truth! Of my heart and soul’s pain, damage, and toll from losing you. You, don’t even know! How the story should go: with a love made gold, through me and you.”
I broke free and ran to the door, and as I exited, I could still hear them repeating, “not another, or another, or another...”
Every encounter with my neighbor left me more anxious, debilitated, and confused. I straightened the room up frantically, then dashed to the bathroom and began splashing cold water on my face. I caught a glance of myself in the mirror, except, unexpectedly, I wasn’t me—-I was my neighbor. At the instant realization of this horror the mirror cracked and I was myself. Before I could feel any sort of relief, however, I screamed:
“I walked you to and from and to that guy’s house, you were fucking in their bedroom while I was out front.”
My face cringed hysterically, as my hand covered my mouth in disbelief. My nose was snotted, my face red, and clearly, I was emotional. Welled up, with my head shaking in disbelief, I uncovered my mouth to release through a frogged throat:
“And every single time it was nothing new, no, every single time I still loved you.”
I dashed to the whiskey, and quickly drank myself into oblivion. I drank another, and another, and another, until I wasn’t me.
“I wrote and called and showed up ten times a month, but you never ever seemed to ever give a fuck. Every single time it was nothing new, no matter what’s tried I still love you.”