Extinction by K-Rock

Topic: Extinction

“Please,” I said.
“C’mon. Don’t say that,” he said. He paused.

“Look, I have no intention of getting back together in the near-forseeable future. And, to tell you the truth, I don’t want anything serious right now either.”
“Well,” I said slowly, “I’ve said everything I could to try to convince you. Just do me one favor….” I trailed off as I tried to compose myself. I was as far away from him on the same couch as I could possibly be. I couldn’t look at him, and the tears came.  “….please be courteous and don’t talk about other women at work. I just can’t handle it.”
“There’s no one else. And I’m not chasing anyone,” he said.

I think he pitied me at that moment. One shred of emotion surfaced and he hung on to it.

“I’m going to leave soon.”

I got up and followed him into the kitchen.

“So, how is this going to work? Do you want to be friends?” I said.
“I mean, do you want to hang out, or just be acquaintances?”
“We can hang out. I just need time. Time and space. And you haven’t given me any of it lately.” He put his empty water glass on the counter.
“Ok so…..I won’t call you,” I said. “If you want to hang out, you can call me.”

His eyes were dark, puddles of concern. I used to love to run my hand down the small of his back while he was sleeping. His body was like porcelain. He never knew I felt that way.

“Can I hug you now?” I said. I was standing close to him. He opened his arms and I stepped forward into him and held on with all my might.  I leaned my head against his chest and then the tears really came. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I fucked everything up,” I sobbed. I knew that it was the last hug that I would ever get and I felt myself against his body and breathed in the scent of his laundry detergent and deodorant and cologne that made it him.

“You have to eat. You can’t do this to yourself. And stop drinking so much.” He went over to the refrigerator and peeked in. “You have nothing in here.” That wasn’t entirely true. I had three bottles of Negra Modelo, which was his favorite beer, in there. I couldn’t drink them. They were some of my only remnants. “Do you want me to make you something to eat? Do you want me to go to the store and buy you groceries?”

“There’s no grocery open at 1 in the morning. And it doesn’t matter, I’m just not hungry. And you drink every day.”
“Yeah, but I’m 21.” As if that were an excuse. He was an alcoholic. “I’m leaving now. You need to get to bed, you have to work in a few hours. Call me tomorrow when you get outta work.”

“It doesn’t matter. I won’t sleep.” I took a new pack of cigarettes out of my purse and started packing.
“I’m not going to stay and watch you smoke,” he said. He was angry now.  He went over to my little end table and inspected the two empty cigarette containers. “I want to see how fast you’re running through these. I heard that when you were at  Jessica’s you were smoking like a chimney.”  I put down the cigarette and lighter.

“No. There’s no bargaining. You need to take care of yourself. You aren’t ready to be with anyone until you get yourself together.”

He opened the door, walked into the brisk night, down the steps from my second floor apartment. I ran after him, and at the top of the steps I called to him. “Do you still want me to call you tomorrow?”

“Don’t call me unless you go in there now and have something to eat and get some sleep.”

There was no bargaining. I did not call him on Sunday.


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