Ren

"Rennie?" Sydney calls, but I've already crash-landed into my bed, still fully dressed from the club.

"You're not going to sleep yet, are you? You need to eat something so you don't feel like shit in the morning!" Sydney lectures from the kitchen.

We didn't stay much longer at the club after I texted Gio. I couldn't get back in the dancing mood—just stayed long enough to have a few more drinks... that's for sure. Sydney had some sort of heart-to-heart with Bryce, and besides a pouty glance or two, he pretty much left me alone. On the flip side, I saw a happy Gemma dancing with him on my way out the door.

"Make me something, and I'll eat it!" I yell back.

I imagine Sydney is grumbling to herself in the kitchen, but I know she'll do it. I smile to myself as I hear pots being rustled in the kitchen. Hopefully, she makes me grilled cheese.

My mood is still erratic—all kinds of conflicting hormones are still coursing through my veins over Gio's last text, and neither the alcohol nor my emotionally charged verbal dump onto my friends or their logical responses is alleviating it. I would have had Sydney drive me to his house, so I could pound on his door and work it out, but I still don't know where he lives.

Gio hasn't responded to my voice messages (yes, I sent another one), and I still don't know what I should return to his last text. Glancing at the clock, it's only a quarter to midnight. Alone and drunk in my bedroom, as usual, I try again to make contact again. I click on Metric and press the phone to my cheek. It rings twice, and my breath catches when he actually picks up.

"Hello?" he answers groggily.

Oh, shit, he was asleep. Well, good. He was probably too disoriented to screen his calls.

"Gio, it's me."

"Fuck."

I need to tokta you," I slur slightly, sitting back up in my bed. 

"How drunk are you?" he mumbles, still trying to come to.

"Why'd you leave like that?"

"Coming tonight was a mistake." 

"Why?" I press.

"Look, I talked to that... co-worker guy of yours while you were gone... you... you should just stick with him. Okay? He seems like a real charming, successful, good-looking guy," he sighs roughly.

"I don'want Bryce, though. I—Ugh. I want you, Gio!"

Silence. 

Then he heaves another sigh. "I'm not good for you, Ren, and you're not good for me either. You actually know nothing about me now. And honestly, you were better off... far away from me."

I'm so confused, and I don't think it's just because I'm pretty drunk. I can feel my eyebrows knitting together.

"Wherz this coming from? I thought las' night—ta'night—it seemed like—"

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry about that. I can't seem to think straight when I'm around you. Which is why it's better if we don't see each other again."

"Ugh! Why, though?"

"I don't do relationships anymore! Not with anyone! And especially not with you!"

My heart stops, and all that escapes my open mouth is a stunned puff of air.  I can hear the anger in his voice, but the way he says it... there's something else. What the hell is going on?

"Who says we hav'ta have a relationship," I counter hotheadedly.

"Be real, Ren, I know you. You don't just want to hook up with me." 

Arrogant! He thinks he knows me now!

I bristle. "Who says I don't!" 

"Well, let me put it another way..." he pauses. "I don't want to just hook up with you."

Whoa—What?!

"Then what the hell's the problem?!"

"I just told you! I can't have relationships," his voice is strained, but then he murmurs so low and quietly, "I'm not taking you down with me."

"Down, with you? Gio, I'm not understanding you. Explain it to me."

I keep hoping I can get him back. Make him give in a little and open up—like I have always seemed to be able to do. Just... just keep your foot in the door.

"I'm sorry, it's better this way, trust me." 

Silence. The phone trembles in my hand, and I rattle the other rapidly against my faltering lips, desperately wracking my brain for what I can say to change his mind. It quickly becomes apparent that the only thing I can think of is the deep down, scary truth. I suck in a breath before letting it spew out of me.

"But, Gio, I'm still in love with you," the word love born out into the air through my constricted throat comes out all distorted and cracked. I'm about to break open if he rejects me.

"You don't understand. I can't because I, I'm..." he starts to say, but he can't seem to finish. I hear him breathing heavily on the phone. My heart is clinging to the smallest fragment of hope that he'll change his mind.

"Have a nice life, Ren," he says. "Please don't call or text me again," and he hangs up.

Oof.

♥︎♥︎♥︎

Men suck!

I think this sentence has repeated in my head more times over the last week than it has in my entire life. I mean, sure, I've said it many times before, but it usually applied to more or less one guy at a time, lumping them in with the larger group of the male sex. This time, however, I count five men in the last two months who've been royal pricks to me.

Well, maybe that's unfair, Bryce hasn't exactly been an asshole on purpose, but he did say something to Gio in the club, and I can see how he strings Gemma along.

I'm over it. No more men!

Ironically, I'm en route to see my dad, but I know he doesn't count. He's the one guy in my life that I can always count on to be there for me—my rock and shoulder to cry on. It takes 20 minutes to get to my old hometown from the city, and I'm driving on the two-lane highway that connects the two. Hot and Cold by Katy Perry comes on the radio, and I spin the volume up high and sing along loudly.

"Cause you're hot, then you're cold. You're yes, then you're no. You're in, then you're out. You're up, then you're down."

Ah! That's Gio now to-a-t. Feels good to sing it.

There are oak and cow-dotted fields on either side now, and as I pass the dairy, the pungent smell of cow pasture fills the car, and strangely... it smells like home.

I stop briefly at the first stop light, enter the little country town, and pass by my old haunt, Cool Beans Cafe, where I used to while away all my after-school afternoons. Then on the right-hand side, a shop Hannah's parents still own. The bookstore where Kristin told me she was gay.

Then, the pink ice cream parlor Gio took me to celebrate when he first got his driver's license, but my period was late, and I freaked out on him. I physically shake the memory out of my head. If I only knew then what I know now.

I make a right at the stop sign as the downtown library comes into view... the first place we went together in high school. I slow at the location of my vivid dream of him and me a few months ago. The dream still seems so nearly real and fresh in my subconscious that it sends a rush through me—as if maybe I could be dreaming now.

Building after building I pass has a memory attached to it, flashing like a multitude of faded polaroids in my head. Finally, I pass my high school. It's the same beige stucco art deco building I used to loathe the sight of. Yet now, as I slow down and stare at it, my heart is near to bursting with sentimental memories of Gio. 

Stop it! Stop thinking about how good it all was when you were with him! Memories feel like that! You only remember the good stuff!

I suddenly realize the radio is softly playing "Nothing Compares to You" by Sinead O'Connor, which is obviously not helping, so spitefully, I flick the sound dial to off.

I arrive at my dad's new apartment, giving a short warning knock before just going on in. We are having dinner with him and my aunt, but I'm also picking up some art and a box of my childhood stuff he's been waiting to unload onto me.

"Lauren, is that you?" I hear his voice echo from the kitchen.

"Hi, Dad!"

"Hey there, daughter-doo!" my dad's voice projects out happily as he strides towards me.

My dad's a tall guy—over six foot, and today he has dressed in his favorite faded Levi's and white polo shirt. Just this year, he's finally chopped off his long 60s hair but still sports a full beard, which is now nearly all gray. He wraps me up in his big arms, and just in this embrace, it feels like... it feels like home.

"So, how were your first few weeks at the new job?"

"Great, I'm getting into the swing of things. I've been extremely busy. Hopefully, I'll be invited to the client meetings soon. How's things with you?

"Um, slow still. I keep hoping I'm gonna get a call for a big job, but even my most loyal clients are picking up newer graphic designers doing their computer shit—sorry honey, no offense. Aunt Gina called just before you got here. She's running late but will be here soon. I should go check on dinner."

He gets up and ambles into the kitchen, and I follow him, grabbing a seat on the bar stool at the small peninsula. Bringing up Gio was something I put down on my mental 'don't discuss tonight' list, but I just can't seem to help myself. I decide I better do it now before Aunt Gina arrives and tries to pry every last detail out of me.

"Hey, Dad, um, you'll never guess who I bumped into and who works in the same building as me..."

"Who?" he asks, interested, without taking his eyes off the stove.

"Giovanni," I reveal, biting my lip, wondering what reaction my dad will have to this bit of news.

"Really?" He looks over his shoulder, sounding quite surprised. But  I also see a flash of wariness in his eyes. "Wow, Honey.... you guys talk?" He turns back to focus on cooking.

"Yeah, we've... met up... a few times."

"You have?" The oven door bangs shut. "So... how is he?" Again, I pick up that cautious tone as he turns around from the stove to face me, intently interested now.

"He seems really good," I say casually. "He works as a counselor now."

"Oh? Hmm," he ponders, eyes averted and aimlessly folding up a dish towel left on the counter.

"I know, right? He, um, also told me his mom died," I reveal, lowering my voice.

"Yeah, I know," he says solemnly.

"You do?" I say, astounded. "How do you know?" 

He hesitates. Then we both smell something burning, "Oh, shoot the ham! I put it on to broil just to caramelize the top. Crap!"

He pulls it out of the oven, and the pineapple is singed, but mostly it looks ok. The doorbell rings.

"That'll be Gina. Excuse me. I'll go get the door." He quickly leaves the kitchen, ending the conversation abruptly.

After dinner, while he and Aunt Gina gossip about the family, I gently remind him about the box of my old stuff. He excuses himself, and I follow him to his bedroom closet, where he rummages around in the back, shuffling things around until he finally pulls the big cardboard box out for me. Then he walks out, leaving me alone.

I plop down on the floor, open the soft, crumpled flaps, and begin pulling things out onto the floor. First to come out are all my old yearbooks, and struggle to heave out all four in one go. Then my many diaries, each one different, ranging from high school all the way back to middle school.

I pause to regard the last one in my hand from senior year—it's duck-taped shut, and I mean entirely encased in a few layers of silver tape—to keep the secrets safe. Damn! A little overkill, Ren, don't you think? I place it in a new pile on my other side.

A stack of my old art I had hung on my bedroom wall comes out next. As I pull each thing out, take a look at it, and place it carefully in its own pile. I get further down in the box, small photo albums and mix tapes...I find Gio's mix tape. I put that into the pile with my duct tape diary.

I go deeper. I find a small box full of odds and ends—crystals, loose photos, buttons, and other small trinkets, a small crumpled paper ball...why'd I keep this? The jade heart from San Francisco is under it. I put that aside, too.

I dig around in it some more, but I still can't find what I'm looking for. Where is it?! A terrible sensation that I've lost it prickles in my veins.

But finally! Finally, I find it. I pull it out into the light.

Do I believe in fate? Soulmates? Like Sydney seems to? Like Gio said he did?

I question this to myself as I nostalgically look down at the simple but delicate necklace he had given me, draped across my fingers, lost at the bottom of this old dusty box for the last eleven years. I sigh because I don't think I do...

But have you ever just met a person for the first time who you just knew would be important to you? Looked into their eyes and just knew immediately that they were someone very special? Like a force or a pull beyond what science says exists—an electric current, powerful and quick, which courses through and alights your heart and soul? And you know that even if they fell back out of your life, you would be forever changed and always remember them?

I have......and I'll always remember him. 

♥︎♥︎♥︎

https://youtu.be/kTHNpusq654