2. Abby #3
“Yes, usually they do, but I’m not longing for this version of you.”
Fuck, did I say that last part out loud?
“In case you’re wondering, yes, you did ask that last question out loud.
If you were out here living life to the fullest, trying to find your zest for life again, I'd support it.
Heck, even if you were just going to therapy while you try to process your grief for the life you lost, I'd be all for it.
But you aren't. You're moping around, feeling sorry for yourself and trying to avoid your mom.
“But really, why did you come out here? And are you really living the dream here? Are you getting what you want out of this life? Because from what I’m seeing, you’re not. You’re just living in an apartment alone, with Collette invading your space half the time. Or most of the time, right?”
I look away, and she laughs. She knows my mom is over way too often.
“I’m not going to agree with you, but I won’t disagree with you.
And I promise to give it some thought, okay?
But I can’t just keep flip-flopping from state to state on a whim.
I have to make this decision and stick to it.
I mean, it took a lot for me to leave Boston to begin with.
To return, it will have to be forever,” I say.
“That leads me to my next line of questioning,” she says, and I can’t help the moan that escapes. “Don’t whine; it’s unbecoming. What about Clay?”
“What about Clay?” I ask.
“What about rekindling that old flame? Have you thought of that?” This isn’t the first time Marissa has brought this up in the last year. She is obsessed with Clay. She isn’t attracted to him. But, like my brother, she is not over the fact that I got a divorce.
“Marissa, I told you we are no longer together. He and I have moved on in different directions.” I pull my hands apart to emphasize my point.
“Oh please, you haven’t done anything. Have you even seen another dick since Clay?”
“Marissa, voice down!” I whisper-yell. Why do I choose a friend who’s so crass?
“Come on. We’re in LA. No one gives a shit. Penis. Dick. Vagina. Fuck. Pussy. No one cares.” She sips her martini and rolls her eyes. Motherfucker.
“I honestly don’t see why I have to answer this line of questioning,” I tell her, looking to the side as I sip my mimosa.
“The fact you’re avoiding eye contact is answer enough.
Listen, I don’t give a shit if you’ve fucked the entire western hemisphere, but you’ve always had a hard-on for Clay, and he’s only had eyes for you.
So, tell yourself whatever you’d like, but you love him.
You still want him. This is still the person you’re supposed to be with, Abby! ” She is so goddamn stubborn.
“Marissa, can we drop it?” Ugh! Why is she pushing this today ? I mean, really . First the move back, and now this? Why is she being such a pill?
“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t push you to see right from wrong.
I could be a shit friend, but I don’t think they make key chain hearts that say BSF: Best Shit Friend.
” She laughs at her own lame joke. To accentuate the point, she holds up her key chain with her half of the BFF charm she still has, the ratty BFF portion of the heart I gifted to her years ago still holding strong.
I can’t help the snort I return at her ridiculousness.
“You’re such a smart-ass,” I toss back at her.
“Oh, you love me.” She continues to laugh. “Just fucking admit that was a good one. I think I’m going to make us that key chain, too, just for fun. Even though it doesn’t apply because I’m fucking awesome.” She moves her glass to cheers.
I cheers her because she is right about one thing, I do love her more than anything.
Marissa is the one person I will always lean on, no matter what.
I won’t ignore what she’s saying about Boston because it’s been on my mind more often than not.
I’ll let it sit in the back of my mind for a little while.
Maybe going back should be something I’ll consider in the future.
Being back here isn’t bringing the new beginning I was hoping for.
The sound of the rain hitting my apartment window brings back memories of my first place with Clay in Boston. When memories like these pop into my head, it’s hard for me not to think about what he’s doing right now and what we would be doing if I were with him and still his wife.
I look down at my phone, and it’s only then I realize the date.
Oh my gosh. Our friends—Ashton and Samara—got married today.
I completely let it slip my mind. Since I left Clay, I distanced myself from everyone in our friend group.
I took the initiative to pull away from anyone he was friends with first. I wanted to take the awkwardness out of the equation and ensure no one felt obligated to choose between us.
I was always friends with Samara because it was easy to be close to someone as sweet as her, but it would be strange to stay friends since her husband has been friends with Clay since they were in kindergarten.
I never wanted to put her in a bad spot once Clay and I were divorced.
I’d seen it with other couples who had divorced, making others pick sides.
I knew it would be difficult. I simply pulled myself out of the equation altogether.
Still, it’s hard not to feel heaviness in my stomach when people I shared so many memories with are celebrating a huge moment, and I’m missing it.
I feel like this is one of the first big parts of their lives I won’t be there to witness.
One of many memories that Clay will start to build without me. I feel a tear fall down my cheek.
I finish making my tea, grab my blanket off the back of the couch, and pull it over my legs. I scroll through one of the streaming services to find a sappy rom-com. Hopefully, I can lose myself in something lighthearted to keep my mind from drifting to thoughts of my life in Boston.
I finally find a movie and relax enough to pull myself into it, but soon, my thoughts drift to Marissa’s conversation at lunch. It’s hard not to overanalyze what she had to say, and her words sink farther into my mind.
She’s not wrong that moving here may have been a huge mistake.
I thought it would have been different for me emotionally.
I thought I would have felt a huge shift by now, but it didn’t even provide the Band-Aid for my heart that I originally thought it would.
I saw my life moving forward differently once I settled, but nothing seemed to move forward the way I planned it, I guess.
I’m distracted by my mental spiral when my phone chimes, and I pick it up to see a name across my screen that I haven’t seen in quite some time.
Clay
No matter how hard I tried, every turn led to thoughts of you today