Original Publication Information:
Suedomsa the Magazine July 1998 Volume Two, Issue
One
The Heart Ache Journal of James T. Holden age 19 Entry #7 Feb 2, 1998
by Matthew Sorvillo
I'm gonna go to the cafe tonight. I've decided to risk the chance of
running into her. I'm not sure how I'll react if I see her again. But
after two weeks of staying at my parents', I fear for my sanity.
Sitting around with the folks watching The Weather Channel hasn't turned
out to be as therapeutic as I had once hoped. Since we moved to this God
forsaken town, my parents have been ever vigilant in their search for late
breaking weather forecasts regarding New York City. Bursting into
irrepressible laughter every time they hear mention of "scattered showers"
or "snow flurries" headed for the Big Apple.
I can't take it anymore. Not only it is warping my sense of reality but
also it hasn't helped me to forget Christy at all. Sometimes when I lay
down in my old room and listen to the stereo, I stare at the wall until my
mind goes numb. I tell myself I don't care anymore. I pretend I didn't
want to be with her anyway. But we both know the truth. I loved her. She
meant more to me than anything. I just wish she would have let me give
myself to her. And as if on cue, I begin to imagine what it would have
been like to make love to her for the first time. Then slowly I realize
that will never happen now. She threw away my affection so she could
screw my roommate.
I fantasize about what it would be like to chase him down the street with
a baseball bat. Then he'd regret what he did to me. But I could never
get the nerve to do it. So I just sit in my old room, smoking camels, and
spraying the air with cologne like I'm still 15.
And yet, despite it all I miss her. And that makes me wonder if she
misses me. Soon, I'll hear the phone ringing. I'll spring from the bed
to answer it, hoping desparately that it is her. She's calling to
apologize, and she wants me back. But it is never her.
I'd cry if I could bring myself to do it. I don't want to give her the
satisfaction. As if she would even know.
My mother's laughing hysterically again. All my old friends will be
shoveling their driveways tomorrow.
