2. london
we met that summer in london. we were young then. your dad sent you to an internship at the best accounting firm in the UK. you were going to take over the family business when the time was right. it was the most cliche life i’ve ever heard of. your bad habits lived up to it. typical young guy who feels like he has the world in his pocket. you mention you like santa monica and the next thing we know you’ve got plane tickets for a week long trip in america. you didn’t carry a care in the world with you anywhere you went. rotting bananas in the bowl. molded milk in the refrigerator. not a lot of things mattered to you. a lot of things were taken care of for you.
you got to spend a lot of time having fun. at least that’s what i knew about you. that’s what i smelled from down the hallway. that’s what i saw in the ripped trash bags pouring out beer bottles from three nights of benders in the dumpster outside our building. the thought of you repulsed me. you couldn’t have been farther from what i wanted. you fucked a different girl every three nights. which wasn’t the worth thing in a world a young man could be doing but you were so showy about it. you twirled them as the buzzer beep to let you in. you never brought your keys with you. everyone knew we might get a buzz from you at 2am. especially on the nights you went out and brought a girl back home which was every night you went out. flaunting it to her and us. every three days. you didn’t operate under a monday through friday and friday through sunday schedule. no, you did whatever the fuck you wanted whatever day of the week.
you fucked a different girl every three nights and you would’ve done it more often but you loved taking them for coffee in the morning. you loved the rawness of the day after too much. you’d let them linger as long as they liked but they had to leave before dinner. by dinner, you were alone. cooking a nice meal for yourself. romanticizing all that happened. all the charm you had. playing it all back but better and in more control now that it’s happening in your head and not on your bed. you brought them in just to feel the fantasy you’d fantasize about after. everything’s always looked prettier in your mind. the sight of their cheeks flushed bright red with one measley little compliment from you. you’d tuck their hair behind their ears to seal the deal. a women flustered was easy to surprise with a kiss.
you were so in control back then. you could will a women with a wink of the eye. you never had to do much. afterall, you were so charming and hot and mysterious and of course, a great kisser.
no one knew who you really were. not even you.
you spent so much time pouring your energy into dead bodies you never learned to love yourself. it was always on to the next with you. you didn’t have time to stop and start feelings. you only had one day in between girls and you spent that with the boys.
i remember the night we looked at each other. it was about 4am, you had another lady wrapped around your finger. the two of you stumbling as you weave down the hallway, laughing as you pour what’s left of the beer down your throat and get a little on your shirt. i was at my door giving a hug goodbye. you looked at me with respect. but i wasn’t like you. i was putting my heart out there and getting it broken. i wasn’t calling the shots i was getting dumped and feeling pathetic.
you think everyone is like you and everything is about you. you looked me in the eyes and didn’t even see i was crying. you thought i was being badass. thinking we shared something in common. you gave me a wink as you passed by. something must have shined for you because you looked back. this time noticing the swell of water sitting on my tear ducks. you wondered about me. you hadn’t wondered about a woman in a while. it was so easy for you. the orchestration of chemistry. you played the parts so well.
the badassness turned sadness must have caught your attention. three days later you dialed my code on the lockbox. you wanted me to be the one who knows you’re bringing a girl home this evening. you want me to see you tongue tied in the camera gate. but when i checked the monitor you were alone. you didn’t have anyone on your arms. it wasn’t boys night and the 24 hour fantastastical aftermath had ended. so why were you alone?
i buzzed you in. i watched you cross my peep hole. it wasn’t your typical all knowing walk you normally do down the corridor. you had your head down running a hand through your hair, as you walked by my door. it’s like you knew i’d watch you walk by. true vanity knows no ends, i guess. i thought it was strange. but i was busy trying to find my now ex’s highschool girlfriend on facebook so i could cry myself to sleep that evening. i don’t know what i had to cry about it, i was so much cooler than her. but i liked to trigger the feeling of releasing before bed.
after that night, i could hear you go back to your normal interval of hot girls. creaking the floors at 2am again. the only thing that stopped was you ever hitting my buzzer again. i couldn’t shake the feeling that your drunken stupor had become slower. your feet were dragging i could tell but how could i explain that to someone. i didn’t have any friends. i’d put all my eggs in the baskets of my lovers. i didn’t need more than one at a time. i wasn’t like you.
there were times we’d pass each other on the stairs. you’d catch me with arms full of groceries and hold the door open for me. something changed in you but i never figured out what it was. you didn’t ask for my number. i couldn’t ask you.
you moved out of the building by the end of summer. you needed a vacation from your summer vacation. you tired yourself out. there were so many women that needed to be so incessantly and obsessively entertained by you.
and as much as i hated you. i didn’t understand why you didn’t call me again.