need this. You don’t need me either.”
I blinked. “What do you want? A clingy female who’s incapable of taking care of herself? Of thinking for herself?” Like my mother? I added silently.
“It would just be really nice to be needed once in a while.”
Kevin turned his back on me and slid out of bed. He sat with his elbows on his knees and scrubbed his face, the muscles on his back flexing with the movement. Just a few hours—even minutes—ago, I was thinking how nice it would have been to feel those muscles beneath my fingers.
Now I wondered how they’d feel beneath the blade of a knife.
“I’m sleeping in the living room.”
“What?” No matter how we’d argued before, we always slept in the same bed. Usually making up with some raucous sex before the night ended.
“I can’t go on this way. I want more, and you obviously don’t. You’re happier with a dead guy.” Kevin picked up a pillow and heaved it at the Elvis portrait, knocking it askew. I jumped for it, catching it before it slipped from the nail.
Kevin stood and threw me a look of disgust mixed with sadness, yanked the comforter off the bed and dragged it toward the living room, slamming the bedroom door behind him.
Still unclear about what had just happened, I stared down at the picture in my hands. “Kevin has left the building,” I said aloud. “Looks like we’re in trouble, Elvis, old pal.”
***
A week later, Elvis and I were still in trouble. I’d hardly seen Kevin. He’d come back to our bed after that first night on the couch—probably because the couch was about six inches too short for him—but made sure he went to bed long after I did. When he did come to bed, he rolled the comforter between us like the Berlin Wall.
Only this wall wasn’t coming down.
Obviously I’d been walking around with blinders on, like the horses who pulled the carriages in Central Park. It wasn’t the first time a relationship had gone sour on me. However, it was the first time I’d been caught unaware. This time, I was as prepared as I’d have been to step off a curb and get hit by a bus.
When Mo and I broke up, it had mostly been because I wasn’t willing to don the robes of Tibetan monks and move halfway around the world. But, I hadn’t been unprepared for that break-up. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to know that a guy who spends more time conversing with a Paint by Number Elvis than other humans has had a few brain cells “leave the building” and isn’t exactly long-term relationship material.
And even though Lance’s proclamation of love had been a surprise, I’d suspected something was going on for a while. He started watching me with dreamy eyes. He spoke more softly to me and gazed longingly at children in Central Park when we ran. At least a dozen times, he opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again without saying anything. He should have just kept it shut.
Terrance had been obvious, too. I wasn’t all that surprised he was having a fling on the side. In fact, I probably (purposely) overlooked the signs because everything else was moving along smoothly. Once April started drying her pantyhose on my shower curtain rod, though, all bets were off. The only thing I’d been confused about in that relationship was why Terry felt the need for other women. It wasn’t like we lacked anything in our sex life. He said it was because it was nice to have someone need him. At the time, I didn’t get it. I still didn’t get it now, but the words echoed in my head, a reflection of what Kevin had told me a week ago. “It would be really nice to be needed once in a while.”
What the hell did that mean?
All in all, though, I hadn’t been surprised or overly concerned with the demise of any of my previous relationships. That was normal, right? Relationships were temporary. Finite. I even made it easier on myself by not getting too attached in the first place.
***
On my last day at WKUP, I barely got through my
I blinked. “What do you want? A clingy female who’s incapable of taking care of herself? Of thinking for herself?” Like my mother? I added silently.
“It would just be really nice to be needed once in a while.”
Kevin turned his back on me and slid out of bed. He sat with his elbows on his knees and scrubbed his face, the muscles on his back flexing with the movement. Just a few hours—even minutes—ago, I was thinking how nice it would have been to feel those muscles beneath my fingers.
Now I wondered how they’d feel beneath the blade of a knife.
“I’m sleeping in the living room.”
“What?” No matter how we’d argued before, we always slept in the same bed. Usually making up with some raucous sex before the night ended.
“I can’t go on this way. I want more, and you obviously don’t. You’re happier with a dead guy.” Kevin picked up a pillow and heaved it at the Elvis portrait, knocking it askew. I jumped for it, catching it before it slipped from the nail.
Kevin stood and threw me a look of disgust mixed with sadness, yanked the comforter off the bed and dragged it toward the living room, slamming the bedroom door behind him.
Still unclear about what had just happened, I stared down at the picture in my hands. “Kevin has left the building,” I said aloud. “Looks like we’re in trouble, Elvis, old pal.”
***
A week later, Elvis and I were still in trouble. I’d hardly seen Kevin. He’d come back to our bed after that first night on the couch—probably because the couch was about six inches too short for him—but made sure he went to bed long after I did. When he did come to bed, he rolled the comforter between us like the Berlin Wall.
Only this wall wasn’t coming down.
Obviously I’d been walking around with blinders on, like the horses who pulled the carriages in Central Park. It wasn’t the first time a relationship had gone sour on me. However, it was the first time I’d been caught unaware. This time, I was as prepared as I’d have been to step off a curb and get hit by a bus.
When Mo and I broke up, it had mostly been because I wasn’t willing to don the robes of Tibetan monks and move halfway around the world. But, I hadn’t been unprepared for that break-up. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to know that a guy who spends more time conversing with a Paint by Number Elvis than other humans has had a few brain cells “leave the building” and isn’t exactly long-term relationship material.
And even though Lance’s proclamation of love had been a surprise, I’d suspected something was going on for a while. He started watching me with dreamy eyes. He spoke more softly to me and gazed longingly at children in Central Park when we ran. At least a dozen times, he opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again without saying anything. He should have just kept it shut.
Terrance had been obvious, too. I wasn’t all that surprised he was having a fling on the side. In fact, I probably (purposely) overlooked the signs because everything else was moving along smoothly. Once April started drying her pantyhose on my shower curtain rod, though, all bets were off. The only thing I’d been confused about in that relationship was why Terry felt the need for other women. It wasn’t like we lacked anything in our sex life. He said it was because it was nice to have someone need him. At the time, I didn’t get it. I still didn’t get it now, but the words echoed in my head, a reflection of what Kevin had told me a week ago. “It would be really nice to be needed once in a while.”
What the hell did that mean?
All in all, though, I hadn’t been surprised or overly concerned with the demise of any of my previous relationships. That was normal, right? Relationships were temporary. Finite. I even made it easier on myself by not getting too attached in the first place.
***
On my last day at WKUP, I barely got through my
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