Many Million Dreams Ago • Ch. 8 of 10
The Chapter’s Song:
I’d go on to see The Girl with the Gorgeous Smile every single day for the next month or so. Restaurants, cafés, movies—, it didn’t matter, we just wanted to be near each other, to learn more about each other, to pick our brains over anything and everything.
Going to one of our favorite coffee shops in the neighborhood on a random afternoon—, we decided it was a pleasant day to sit outside on the patio. We ordered our drinks, took them to our table, and sat down ready to talk. Instead, she pulled out a notebook from her yellow purse and tore off a sheet, sliding it over towards me.
“Here you go,” she sweetly said.
“What’s this for?,” I asked.
“Let’s both write out a short story on the spot and then read them aloud to each other.”
I thought it was one of the best ideas I’d ever heard for two people to do—, especially two people in love and dating.
“Let’s do it—,” I said. She gave me one of her pens and off we went—, our hands writing as fast as our brains could churn out the words in the right order. When we finished, we both took turns proudly reading our creations and then immediately started the process over again, and again. Three times in all—, we wrote, read, and reacted positively to each other’s imaginations. Afterwards, she collected the pages and put them together in her notebook as future mementos to look back through and reminisce about.
Of course I respected and appreciated her mind—, that went without saying. She was much smarter than most other people I’d come across throughout my life—, but I was also attracted to the air of aristocracy she walked around with. She knew she was a beautiful woman—, inside and out. I told her how one of my idols growing up was Edie Sedgwick.
“That’s interesting you say that. I’ve actually won an Edie-lookalike contest,” she proudly said. Once I’d learned that, I can safely say I was hooked—, both to her mental and physical attributes. That all eventually took on the form of sleeping beside her, which quickly turned into one of my favorite things to do. Not just because she’d climb into bed without a shred of clothing on—, but that even to the slightest touch, she’d nearly purr herself awake. She had such a pure sensuality and we clicked very well because of it. We didn’t have to go all the way to have amazing physical chemistry. I always respected that about us. We’d kiss each other alive while removing our shirts, one button at a time. She’d busy herself with me while I’d slowly slide my fingertips across her arches. Then I’d lay down next to her, basking in the moment when we’d finish.
One of our favorite pastimes was to see new movies the week they’d come out. She knew everything and everyone, especially from Hollywood’s Golden Age. Buying our tickets, we’d walk down the same types of hallways toward our theaters that I’d walked a decade earlier—, still excited about whatever movie my current girlfriend and I would be seeing, still wondering if it’d make us fall even further in love with each other. She’d pick up on all the symbolism, could dissect a film fifty different ways, and always stayed silent during the show—, focused on it, respecting it, making me respect her for it.
There was a particular piano bar downtown which everyone would eventually circulate through depending on where they were in their own relationships. It was the perfect place to bring someone on a date. It didn’t take long for us to make our way down towards it one evening. The line was well into the street and around the corner, so we walked up to it, waited our turn to show our I.D.s, and go in through the doors down the front steps. Once inside, it was so crowded that it’d taken us a full fifteen minutes to walk from the main doors to the coat-check room and back out to the bar. We finally arrived at the front of the line and the bartender took our drink orders as we sat at a nearby, candlelit table. We started chatting each other up and wondering what we’d end up doing for the rest of the night. Her eyes twinkled in the soft light of the atmosphere and she looked like she had something important to say.
“You know—, it just hit me,” she started, “I love spending time with you.” My heart naturally grew.
“I love spending time with you too,” I said.
“Yeah but—, I like it when it’s just me and you. We don’t need to be out at these fancy places. There’s nothing better than being at home together.” She was right. I’d felt the exact same way ever since stepping foot into the room—, it was so packed that we could hardly hear each other over the loud chatter all around us. While it was a charming spot—, it wasn’t the type of place we wanted to be in anymore. We cherished each other’s company too much to let other people get in the middle of our next conversation or kiss. I couldn’t help but think back to all the times I’d stood outside other bars and clubs, waiting to get in so I too, could become one with the flow of energy filling the different atmospheres therein. All those years of trying to find something to believe in while not knowing why I was even attracted to that sort of environment seemed so out of reach now. I’d finally started feeling like I was growing up and maturing into the adult I was always meant to become. We paid our tab and made our way again through the crowd and onto the street outside. A quick cab ride later and we were back at home, in bed, and watching one of our favorite shows as we slowly drifted off into a deep and pleasant sleep.
I continued on at my job—, heading to work with a huge smile on my face more often than not. The front door to the shop flew open with attitude one day—, I could tell. From the briefest glance, I saw a woman with golden hair that flowed down to her waist walk in and immediately head in my direction.
“Do you have any heels?,” she said with a sense of high esteem.
“I’m sorry, we don’t,” I replied. She picked up one of the peep-toe wedges we had and analyzed it carefully.
“Well do you have anything classier than this?,” she asked. I could tell she wasn’t someone who liked to hear “no,” so I tried my best to appease her.
“How about this?,” I asked back, holding up something similar.
“If I were your girlfriend, would you let me wear that?,” she said looking straight at me.
“If you were my girlfriend, we’d be shopping down on Oak Street right now—,” I answered matter-of-factly. It made her smile—, which was more than I’d thought it’d do. I’d never been one to step out on whoever I’d be dating though so the conversation abruptly ended and she left the store empty-handed. I knew that after my shift, a beautiful woman was at home waiting for me to walk back into one of our small but precious studio apartments. So that’s exactly what I did.
Each and everyday—, there was always a new book or movie she’d want to show me. It kept things interesting and the relationship full of good conversation. Once nightfall would come around, we’d nestle up next to each other and either read or speak on the day’s events or plan out our tomorrows with excitement. The morning would always roll around and in all my months of spending time with her, I never once saw her hit the snooze button on the alarm. She’d jump up and ready herself for the day almost instantaneously. I’d prepare her coffee while she ran the warm water in the tub. That was where she could be free from the rest of the world if only for a few moments at a time.
On a specific morning—, I knew I wanted to surprise her with something she wouldn’t have expected, something different than what she’d gotten used to. I knew I wanted to make the day as special as I could so I woke up extra early, rolled out of bed, and snuck out of the apartment unnoticed. Walking down the street towards the corner store, I was already thinking to myself how happy we’d both be back upstairs in a matter of minutes. I bought my presents and stuffed them into my backpack before heading home. Once inside, I saw she was already awake and excused myself while going into the bathroom, backpack and all. I ran the water, let it fill up until it reached the very brim of the bathtub, and went to work on my surprise. A few minutes passed by before I walked back out into the living-room and just sat there, waiting.
“I’m going to take my bath,” she said, much like she did every morning. I didn’t say a thing, I let her walk into the bathroom alone and once she looked down at the dozens of red rose petals floating atop the warm water, she came back out with her signature smile extended from ear to ear.
After work, we’d planned on having a nice dinner over my place. I began running her a bath again like I’d done so many times before but the night felt special for some reason. She’d come over earlier to cook dinner, turned on the stovetop, and began mixing the vegetables together inside the pan. The sound of sizzling romance was in the room and it brought back a handful of different memories from previous dinners; TVs turned toward the living-room windows so we could watch from the front patio, sweetner-tinged greens which I never knew would taste so good, and so many others I’d been unable to retain throughout the years. They’d all come and gone before I ever really had a chance at capturing any of them.
As we were watching live concerts on the computer, the music made its way into the bathroom and set the mood for our time together. She climbed in and slowly submerged her body underneath the bunches of bubbles. Letting herself relax, she rested against the back ceramic ledge and let me do all the work, which I gladly did. I soaked the washcloth and wrung it out over her knees, letting the droplets race down toward her thighs below. I gently began washing her legs as she stared at me with a sense of curiosity. She couldn’t hold it in much longer before directly asking;
“What do you get out of this?”
“I like taking care of the things I love,” I answered. The rest of the night as well as the next morning were just as romantic, making it hard to part ways before both of us headed back off to work.
Later that evening, after returning home, we decided to spend some time up on the rooftop. We exited through the hallway door and stepped out into a picturesque view. Panoramic skyscrapers stood in wait a mere mile away. Above us were tiny specks of light that glistened and glowed. I couldn’t have imagined a more romantic scene. We sat down on the concrete next to a large smoke-stack and stared out at the city in a pensive silence. We shared the champagne we’d brought along with us as she placed her head down on my lap, closed her eyes, and let the night breeze drift her off into a soft sleep. I stayed awake and focused in on the buildings all around while brushing her hair with my fingers and sitting still for the next few hours.
Time passed by—, week after week, month after month. I was excited about where our relationship was heading though a subtle sense of disappointment from my past slowly started coming back again—, ruining all of the present memories I was still in the process of making. It wasn’t just the time of year—, it was the year itself. I’d turned twenty-eight and still wasn’t married. It’s not that I particularly wanted to be, it’s just that any probability of it ever happening got erased a long time ago. I couldn’t tell my girlfriend about all of the wasted promises I’d made, but something inside wouldn’t let me be at peace either.
While digging through my closet one night, I’d found a homemade anniversary card with a giant heart-shaped logo drawn on the front. I opened it up and began reading. There was a date written within it from a decade earlier—, it was for a day that wouldn’t pass until the upcoming summer. My stomach turned at the thought of what it represented and the wedding ceremony that’d never be. Even in my dream city, I couldn’t escape the what ifs of yesterday.
Though I maintained a forced smile on my face more times than not, everyone felt its fake nature. My relationship began suffering because of it. She could tell that I was a thousand miles away. I wanted to be present more often—, to tell her how beautiful I thought she was and to share opinions like we used to when we first met, but it was useless. The constant calling of old mistakes came and ruined more than its handful of moments. The spark between us was slowly burning out. Like with others before—, we were steadily slipping away from one another—, fading farther and further out into an open sea of uncertainty.
She came over one day and noticed how especially depressed I was.
“What’s wrong?,” she sincerely asked. I just sat in my chair and stared down at the floor below. Finally, the constant pressure of thinking the same thoughts on repeat spilled out of my head and over into the real world around me.
“I wonder had we would’ve never started something like that, if she’d still have those same scars on her today,” I let myself say with complete honesty.
“Not this again—,” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air from the frustration of having to go through yet another similar conversation. “Honey, that’s in the past now—,” she said with just as much honesty as I had. “Let it go.” Words to live by—, truly and utterly. It’d taken me an entire decade to let their meaning fully embed themselves into my mind and take their advice to heart. I knew she was right, I just couldn’t bare the supposed-responsibility of it all. Had it really been my fault this entire time? Was it really something I’d initiated? I didn’t need the answers to my questions as much I needed some type of forgiveness—, from The Universe, from the walls in the rooms which’d watched us desecrate our own temples, and mostly, from myself. I’d let the regret destroy too much of my present and it was finally affecting my future as well.
We were on the verge of calling it quits, I could feel it. I needed to protect myself before this relationship too, had a chance to implode. It was no use. She too, finally tired of my constant dislike for daily life. She’d fallen in love with someone completely different than the person I’d become within the past couple of months. When before, I’d walk into her studio excited to learn about which movie she’d currently be watching, now I barely noticed the TV was even on. I’d had the same depressing songs on repeat for a while when she finally snapped me out my self-loathsome pity party. She could take no more. She was fed up with trying to rescue someone who didn’t even want to be rescued. I was back to being lost so she let me be just as lost as I wanted to be.
“You’re not in a good place,” she seriously said one night after a lengthy argument. She threw my coat at me and slammed the door shut. I walked down the hallway toward the elevators—, broken and bewildered. I was upset with myself for ruining another relationship but also strangely attracted to a woman who I’d never see again. I hadn’t witnessed that kind of attitude in her before and I was happy to finally know that somewhere deep inside herself—, a powerful person did exist.
Returning home, I collapsed onto my bed and could barely keep the room from spinning completely out of control. What am I doing with my life?, flashed through my mind. I had no answer. I just stayed there—, searching the ceiling for my purpose within a very cold and lonesome existence.