Chapter 40 Putting Things Back Where They Belong #2
“Well, we all deal with toxic love at some point in our lives. I’m lucky it’s not how I love myself. At least I didn’t lose respect for myself. I’ve learned to forgive myself, and I’m… Well, exactly that: I’m learning.”
“So what are you gonna do?”
“First ask you if you think we can go back to being us and not feeling like our asses are clenched every time we hang out. I’m not hoping you’ll forget it, but…”
“It will pass,” I assure her. “But don’t fall in love with Marín, please.”
“He’s adorable, but he’s like my brother. He doesn’t even have a penis, as far as I’m concerned.”
“He does,” I assure her. “And it’s got way more girth than Gus’s, even though right now that might seem like a lie.”
Blanca picks up her iced tea and laughs.
“Seriously, what are you going to do?” I ask.
“Tonight I’m going to tell Ruben.”
“Are you sure you want to tell him? You realize this might be the end?”
“Realize? That’s more than understood, Coco. But I’m done with lies. We have to smash them, drag the truth out from inside, and then…shit on them. It’s the only thing they’re good for.”
“So what are you going to do with Ruben? I mean, I thought everything was going fine and…”
“Obviously things weren’t as fine as we all thought. Like I said, we have to pull the truth out of all the lies.”
“Oh, speaking of truth and lies.” I rummage in my bag until I find a super on-trend pink box. “I bought this for you.”
“For me?” She opens the lid of the box, and the rose-quartz-and-silver ring makes a smile spread across her face. “You dumbass. I thought you were gonna get down on one knee to ask my hand.”
“It’s rose quartz.” I point to the stone. “And the lady in the shop told me it’s good for attracting balance and a loving energy.”
She takes it out of the box and puts it on her finger and then stretches out her hand to look at it.
“I love it… Well, all said and done, I’m marrying myself.”
“Okay. Well, let’s wrap this up like it deserves. Gimme your phone for a sec.”
I don’t need to take the driver’s seat. She’s the one who opens Gus’s profile on Instagram again, unfollows, and blocks. Then she blocks him on WhatsApp and deletes his number. She smiles at me after…and wipes her tears with the back of her hand.
“Don’t ever let any guy make you think you need him to be happy, Coco. Choose someone to share your happiness. Guard it jealously. It’s very expensive.”
* * *
I stroll home after we talk for a few more hours.
I’ve heard so many things about her non-relationship with Gus, and I can’t stop thinking about how people are different depending on the context.
With me Gus was always the poet. I never saw any other side of him.
I didn’t see him without his armor, to tell the truth, even though we trusted each other and we shared a few moments.
Everybody chooses which face to show each person.
And I think, of course, about Marín…the Marín who was my roommate and best friend, and my only gripe was that he always forgot to turn the lights off.
But there are so many people inside him: the self-sacrificing brother, the product manager square, the hurt son, the voracious lover, the understanding friend, the magnetic acquaintance, the sexy stranger who sits across from you on the subway, the good citizen, the perfect neighbor, the nightmare for the customer-service people at his cell phone company, and…
the ex-boyfriend. And I have met most of them, yeah, but in passing.
I have to admit that knowing the roommate and friend Marín like the back of my hand is nowhere near enough.
A lot of women might think that what I’m about to do is a bad idea, but as soon as I get home, I need to write him again. Actually, I’d kill to hear his voice, but one step at a time.
Coco:
I was with Blanca all afternoon. We’re working it out. I know you’re on, like, a spiritual retreat, but I thought you’d be happy to hear that.
He logs in right away, and my stomach flips like a teenager and makes me smile.
Marín:
Of course that makes me happy. Thanks for telling me. How’s everything else going?
Coco:
Good. Chill. The house is too empty without you. I can’t get used to it. It doesn’t feel the same, seriously. I spend the whole day wandering around, moping.
Marín:
Well, it’s a two-bedroom apartment. You don’t have far to wander.
I don’t know if he meant that as a joke, but…he sounds weird.
Coco:
You okay? You seem off.
Marín:
Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just about to pick up the car.
Coco:
Oh, I won’t bother you then.
But…I’m going to take the chance to ask when you’re coming back while I’m here.
Marín:
Ah, yeah. That. Um…
He’s typing. He stops. Typing. Stops. Typing. Typing.
Marín:
I’ve been thinking that if I want to live with Gema next year, I have to start by spending vacations with her.
Uh-oh.
Coco:
All of them?
Marín:
Yeah. I was already away for a week with all of you and…I don’t know.
My aunt thinks it’s a good idea too.
Coco:
But…did you pack enough clothes?
Marín:
Yeah, don’t worry.
I sit there with my phone in my hand and my eyes glued to the screen, waiting for him to add something else.
Something like “Why don’t you come see us for a few days?
” or “I miss you.” Something. But there’s nothing more than a feeling of abandonment in the pit of my stomach.
Another woman would say goodbye politely, pretending like she doesn’t mind, but I can’t.
I close the chat and press the speed dial button to call him.
He doesn’t pick up until the third ring, even though I know he was holding his phone.
“Are you avoiding me?” I ask point-blank.
“No, Coco, I’m not avoiding you. I’m spending time with my sister.”
“Yeah. Well…you’re being really weird.”
“I’m not being weird,” he says defensively.
“Of course you are. You’re being the weirdest. In a normal situation, we would’ve called each other every night and—”
“Well, this isn’t a normal situation, Coco, and we also have to ask ourselves if what we were doing before was ‘normal’ as you call it.”
“What makes you say that?” I ask, starting to get heated.
“I mean, because…we’ve been settling into certain routines, and I don’t know if they really matched who we were.”
“What are you trying to say, Marín? Because I’m not getting it.”
He sighs. “You want the truth? I have no idea what I’m trying to say. I haven’t been ballsy enough to call you, that’s it.”
“Well, that seems worrying to me.”
“I guess it is.”
“And when are you coming back?” I insist again.
“Um…the twenty-eighth or twenty-ninth.”
I open my eyes wide, even though he can’t see me. “It’s not even the tenth yet!”
“You’re always saying I never disconnect from work—it’s a good opportunity.”
I rub my face in silence while I think about how to respond. The battle was lost before it began because as soon as I open my mouth, something unmeditated pops out.
“It’s a good opportunity to get away from the problem, to avoid talking to me, and to…”
“That’s not it.”
“Of course it is.”
“Maybe a little, but that’s not all of it,” he clarifies.
“Marín, I never thought you were such a coward.”
“I’m not a coward. It’s just that before we have the conversation you want to have, I need to figure out what answers to give you, because right now none of them are obvious to me.”
“You love me,” I blurt out.
“I’m happy at least one of us is clear on that.”
A slap in the face would’ve hurt less. “That was shitty.”
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing else I can say,” he replies coldly.
“Wow, so this is the Marín Aroa was talking about.”
“And that’s a shitty thing for you to say too.”
“At least tell me what’s freaking you out so much,” I counterattack, but all I hear is silence. “Marín…at least tell me what’s freaking you out so much.”
“Fuck, Coco… I don’t know. I’m telling you it’s not about being freaked out. It’s just that…I want to get away a little, get some perspective. A week ago you were my best friend, and now that we fucked, we’re considering living together and—”
“We already live together!” I yell.
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I have no idea. This coward, scared Marín is a stranger to me. Sorry if I’m not used to him yet.”
“I just need space to think,” he says, sounding tense. “I’m not asking for that much.”
“It’s just that…Marín, we should be talking about this in person. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, but you can’t force anyone to be ready when you want, Coco. Everyone has their own process, and I’m scared to fuck it all up, hurt you, break you, or for this to end terribly and…”
“And so you’d rather not even try?”
“I just got out of a relationship. I just started getting to know you as a woman. It’s too soon to even consider trying it. Please, Coco, you have to understand…”
“Of course.” I perch on the arm of the couch and nod to myself. “But…do you understand me?”
“Of course I do.”
“You make it seem like I’m trying to pressure you to take these huge steps. I just want us to talk, to figure it out! You say I can’t force anyone to be ready, and you’re right, but, Marín…it’s just a fact that by the time that person is ready it might be too late.”
“It’s two weeks.” And he sounds so tense it’s like it’s not even him. “Two weeks, Coco.”
“Two weeks so you can get even weirder, so you can be colder, and so I can feel like I’m talking to a fucking Martian. You have to come back sooner.”
“Okay. Now I am getting freaked out.”
“Well, I’m really sorry, but I’m done having this hanging over us. We’re you and me, Marín. With another guy, I wouldn’t even bother, but it’s you, and we can’t get this so wrong. I need to know. Everything doesn’t revolve around you. There’s another person involved in this, and it’s me.”
“Okay, Coco.” And he says it so condescendingly.
“I have to be honest. I don’t even recognize you.”
“I don’t recognize you either. I thought you were the person who understood me the most in the whole world,” he says. “But now I see that’s only until it gets in the way of your own…”
“My own what?”
“Let’s leave it there, Coco. I don’t want to argue.”
“No. You never want to argue. Probably better if we just hang up and wait for this shit show to magically solve itself.”
“You’re going too far,” he declares.
“I’m going too far? I’m sharing my fears with you, Marín!”
“Respect the space I’m asking for. There’s nothing else I can say,” he says frostily.
“So what am I supposed to do while you think?”
“Think.”
“I’ve already thought about it, for fuck’s sake!”
“Well, just wait then, Coco. What do you want me to say?”
“I need you to come back before the twenty-ninth, Marín,” I say. “I need you to have the balls to sit in front of me and tell me to my face that you’re shitting yourself, that you’re overwhelmed and you don’t know what to do. I need it. If you love me…”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” he groans. “If you love me? Now we’re making threats?”
“Threats? It’s not a threat, but I think the cherry on top of this conversation is an ultimatum: If you’re not back by the twentieth, I’ll take that to mean you don’t want the same thing as me.”
“What does that mean? You’ll ignore me when I come back? You won’t even say hi? Or are you planning on acting like nothing happened? Suddenly we never fucked, we never said I love you, we never came like wild monkeys promising we’d be so happy…”
“It means that if you don’t want the same thing I do, I can’t keep hoping that one day you’ll fall in love with me the way I deserve to be loved, so when you come back, my room will be empty and ready for Gema or whoever you want.”
“Are you seriously threatening me?” he asks.
“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise, and I’m making it to myself, Marín. I want the person by my side to be proud of his feelings and not think loving me is a problem. I’ve already had enough shitty relationships. Think it over.”
“Coco…”
“No, Marín. Think it over. The twentieth. If you’re not here, I’m leaving. Good night. Tell Gema I love her. At least she’ll know how to appreciate it.”
When I hang up, I’m shaking like a leaf. I want to cry. I’m scared. I just played a huge bluff and…
My first relationship was with someone who never wanted to call it a relationship.
Then I had ephemeral flings that vanished before they became anything, leaving a faint trail of shimmering, glittery hope in the air.
My second relationship wasn’t even that…
It was just one more fling with someone who was trying to convince himself it was time to settle down a little.
Gus and I were a couple because that’s what we called ourselves, but…
what was that relationship really about? Time and sex, I guess.
No. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I don’t want to keep wondering when I’ll be good enough for someone because I already am for me. So…wait, Coco, don’t be so fast to freak out. No. You weren’t bluffing. It was just…the voice you deserve.
I burst into tears when it becomes obvious he’s not going to call back. And I cry for all the Maríns—the ones I know and the ones I haven’t met yet—because it’s honestly not looking good.