February is so damn snowy this year. One snow storm follows another. I was walking, my feet sliding in the snow, and snow was beating my face, pouring under my collar, sticking to my eyelashes.
Everyone was ditched by a loved one on some stage of their biography. This very second, certainly, millions of loved ones ditched those for whom they were the reason for being. There is nothing unique in it whatsoever. It is banal and commonplace. Yes, it hurts very much. It is as painful as a fundamental pulpitis. But it is clear what to do with pulpitis. It has to be shown to a dentist. And what to do with that thing?
I needed a painkiller. I had been standing as firm as I could, but it had been intolerable. I knew where to find methadone. I was planning to go and take it at last. I just wanted at least for a little while to stop feeling as if a stilt was pegged crosswise in my breast bone.
Yes, all my rehabilitation will be fucked up. Yes, everyone will turn away from me. Yes, I will fall out of this reality again. And yes, I am unlikely to return. Hi, the doom and gloom dude from the "Twelve steps"! You told me I would not be able to stop using and would end up in the rehab again. But you were wrong. I will not end up in the rehab. I will not need it already, because I am done up.
Blake dropped by last night.
When I heard the knock at the door, I thought it was Emmett again. And I opened the lock because I was not expecting any harm. I already started to say, "Does Drew Boyd…" Because how much time can be spent with me, if… But no, Drew Boyd was just fine. Emmett was with him. And on my doorstep Blake was standing.
"Hello Teddy!"
"Hello Blake."
"I... I just wanted to read Galsworthy's short stories and realized that I left them at your place."
"The craving for literature must have been insufferable. It is almost eleven o'clock."
"Well, you know me." Blake smiled and scratched his nape. It was a nice, familiar gesture. "If something gets into my head…"
I went to fetch the book. I was trying to find it quickly, because I did not want to let him enter the condo. I failed. The door clicked.
"How are you, in general?" I gave Blake the damned volume. Taking it, Blake touched my hand.
"Great. We had one more concert. Rita is happy: one blogger called her a new Bessie Smith."
"What was wrong with the old Bessie Smith?"
Blake rose his eyebrows and shook his head. I felt ashamed for those words. Blake was enjoying his studentship - something he had missed in the normal age. At last he could play in a band with his friends. I had to be happy for the guy. But, for Heaven's sake, I wanted him gone. I had to think of something to make him go before we have sex. And at the same time, more than anything else in the world I wanted to grab him, to carry him to my bed, to crash on it back-first. I wanted Blake to be atop me, to bite me, to kiss me…
In one of the first days of our skiing reunion, I was rinsing dishes after supper. While I was wielding the sponge, Blake was hugging my back and kissing me on the neck and ears. It was very funny and tickly, and I was feeling so childishly happy - like some film kid getting a puppy from his parents - that I wanted to fool around. Then I blew the lather from the sponge right to Blakie. He laughed and splashed me with water from the tap. I turned and started to tickle him. We were pinching and squeezing each other until we fell on the couch, gasping for breath. Blake fell on my chest, hugged me in his arms and legs at once and even sank his teeth into my collar.
"You and me are like two kids on a block of ice. We are drifting in an ocean," he said, having released my polo shirt out of his mouth. I hugged him even tighter. The collar was wet. I was getting cold. But I was ready to get running ear if only Blake stayed like that, on my chest. My 'Little Boy Found.' I was kissing his nape, stroking his back and shoulders, and that moment was as long as eternity.
Eternities end.
"And how is Em?" Blake asked.
"He and Drew are just fine."
Blake was standing at the door, smiling and picking at the book. I wanted to bail through the window, slump to hell, slip into a coma - anything just to get out of there. And Blake stepped closer to me. He replaced the book in his left hand and clearly was going to touch my face. Go, baby, kill me again! You happened to do it already, so go ahead.
Baby...
I closed my eyes and tried to swallow the lump into my throat.
Baby, please…
"Listen," I said, backing away a little, "when you followed me for the first time… did you really like me or just wanted to make some money?"
Blake put his hand into a pocket.
"I really liked you," he answered, "but I cannot say I did not want to make any money."
"You never asked me to sponsor you."
"And never objected when you did. But everything changed soon enough. You changed me, and I wanted to… Why are we talking about that now?"
Please…
"I don't know," I smiled. "Listen…"
It was horribly hard to say that. But I had to.
Baby, please…
"Listen, Blake…"
Do not kill me!
"Blake, it's late, high time I went to bed."
Anything could have followed. He could have cried. He could have asked permission to stay. He could have kissed me. In the end, a couple of hours after I met this guy I ended up in intensive care. But Blake smiled again, unlocked the door and left.
He left me to lie sleeplessly on my bed for many-many hours in a row, feeling as if a stint was pegged crosswise my breast bone.
In the morning I went to work. I was focused, efficient, up to my ears in tax returns. And then I came home and decided I was fed up. I just could not bear that anymore. Who on Earth can bear this! Certainly, it is not me. Too much pain has amassed inside me in the course of my life. It is so much bigger than me that I just can't cope with it anymore. Apparently, that's it, the ceiling has been reached.
Therefore, I was trudging along through the snow to but some pixie dust that would take me to the Dreamland. The land of no pain. The land where everything is beautiful. The land where I wanted to stay forever.
"Hey, Teddy!"
Emmett called my name.
"Em?"
"What a coincidence, I am on my way to you."
"Um, sorry, but I have some errands."
"Oh do you?"
"Yes, Emmett. I…"
"Errands at this time?"
I started to feel angry. Why in the hell do I have to explain myself?
"It is the best time for this kind of errands! I am going to see a…" I blabbed the first thing that came to mind. "A psychic."
"A psychic? Well, your psychic is here. Let me read your palm."
He would not have left me alone, would he? I felt I was a pathetic moron. To tell my best friend to fuck off, to dissolve myself into the night and to get wasted by crystal meth under the veil of snow. It was a first-rate agenda, was it not? But Em would not have let me follow it. Where did he spring from, anyway, right at that moment? And who gave me the right to do that to him, especially after I promised myself to start to take care of him at last?
I sat down right on a heap of packed snow on the side of the road. Emmett looked at it with disgust, but joined me.
He took my hand and told me, "Ted, listen to me. And try to believe me. Well, just listen at least, okay?"
I nodded, and my friend continued, "You will get over it. I can tell you precisely when it will happen: a year from now. A year from now you will be free. Completely free, mind you. Of course, if you will think about it, recall things, rev yourself up every day, it will hurt even later. But not so badly and not constantly. As for this year, you will have to bite the bullet and live through it somehow. The most important thing is to know that life is not over. Do you understand me? Life is not over. I am with you."
"If you will be with me all the time, Drew Boyd…"
"Leave Drew Boyd alone, would you! Let's go home, my ass is about to get frostbitten. And I really need it intact."
And we went home - to save Emmett's ass. In the end, for what else do we need our friends?