Happy Birthday Eternity

by Alden, Luke

Hands in pockets and eyes to the ground, I walk away.

  Alicia. Escape. Something to get my mind off of the yesterdays that I keep reliving.

  Alicia: Someone to keep me from thinking about all the loneliness that fills my future.

  And I keep walking. It’s a half mile to the bus stop. The concrete on the sidewalk is fresh. There are no cracks, there are no flaws.

  Finally I get to the bus stop. There’s nothing to do but think.

  I look down.

  I’ve let myself go.

  There’s a small bulge in my gut that makes me stand out from the crowd.

  I don’t have abs.

  My chin is beginning to double.

  I’m a mess.

  People gawk as they move past me.

  The bus comes. People get off. I get on.

  I sit down. Near me is my bus riding friend, Jim.

  ‘Hey Ellis. How are you today?’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘You seem distant.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Anything you want to talk about?’

  ‘No.’

  I’m a jerk. I should be nicer. I should be more outgoing. I should be open to the people who at least pretend they care.

  The rest of the ride is silent.

  My stop comes. I give Jim a smile. He nods. I get off the bus. I turn and watch it pull away.

  Through the window I see a familiar face.

  Curly hair and a skinny frame.

  It takes a second for me to realize who it is.

  Ten years ago.

  The man from the coffee shop.

  The man from the security footage.

  10

  I ran after the bus but couldn’t keep up.

  My sides ache.

  I’m dizzy.

  Alicia looks at me with disgust.

  I apologize.

  She asks what happened.

  I can’t find it in me to explain.

  She tells me to try.

  I open my mouth. Words fail me. At this moment it feels as if everything is failing me. Words, love, life.

  Alicia tells me that I’m half insane.

  I tell her that there’s a good explanation.

  She rolls her eyes.

  I’m frustrated.

  ‘I think I’m being followed.’

  Alicia laughs.

  I frown.

  She’s not going to understand.

  I keep talking. As if I can paint a clearer picture.

  ‘This man, with curly hair, I saw him ten years ago. I saw him on the bus today, but I didn’t see him until I got off. He was with Evaline in the security camera footage and…’

  I give up.

  It’s not going to make any sense.

  Alicia is laughing.

  ‘Are you crazy?’ She asks this with a half smile on her face.

  ‘No.’ And this is me with defeat in my voice.

  This is me giving up.

  Alicia laughs and thinks that I’m joking and she calls me cute and she tells me that I crack her up and when she does that I can feel my finger tips begin to tingle.

  She takes off her clothes.

  Tits to my face.

  They’re perky and full of saline.

  She has tan lines.

  Her skin looks like leather.

  Tongue to tongue and hands to skin.

  She licks me from neck to ear and back again. My body shivers. And she giggles a soft giggle as if she’s proud of her accomplishment. My mind begins to fade away into the fog of lust.

  We don’t make love.

  We fuck.

  This isn’t gentle.

  I’m frustrated.

  Angry that she can’t help me.

  Angry that I don’t have anyone to talk to about this.

  Angry that I haven’t been more proactive in finding Evaline.

  I’m tired of giving up, and as I grind my hips, I can’t help but think thats all I’m doing. Giving up.

  Alicia is screaming in ecstasy.

  When I look at her face I don’t see anything. When I look into her eyes it’s as if she’s lost. Vacant, blank and vapid.

  I assume that it looks the same from her view point.

  I thrust harder.

  I can’t finish.

  My mind is elsewhere.

  I roll off.

  She looks disappointed.

  ‘Aren’t you going to finish?’ She seems offended.

  ‘No.’ And I don’t try to make things better.

  She begins to pout.

  Her lips go tight and her fists ball up and her cheeks get flush and she wants me to be hers.

  I get dressed.

  She looks like she’s going to cry.

  This is a power struggle. This is her attempting to feel ok with our relationship. This is me not caring either way.

  I’m ready to leave. Standing up. Looking towards the door.

  ‘Please don’t go.’

  I start to go.

  There’s no point in staying. We’re nothing more than fuck friends. We’re nothing more than two people trying to get some sort of relief. We have nothing in common other than a need to get off. Our bodies want everything and our hearts want nothing.

  My feet carry me forward.

  Part of me wants to be stopped. Part of me wants to feel needed. The other part just wants to walk until I’ve forgotten all the centuries up until now. Part of me wants to walk until I can start over again.

  I just want a second chance.

  To love.

  To work.

  To get things right.

  Up until a few years ago I thought I did have it right.

  I assumed life was perfect.

  I had a routine.

  I had safety and security and all the things that people strive for in life.

  Now I’m not sure what I have.

  I hear Alicia rustling behind me.

  ‘Ellis, please, there’s something I need to tell you first.’

  I stop moving.

  ‘I think I know that curly haired man you were talking about.’

  And it’s a pause, a breath, and a nervous twisting of nervous fingers.

  11

  I’m sitting in Alicia’s kitchen. I’ve been up all night. My gut is sore and my head aches and I want to sleep but I can’t. My mind keeps moving in circles. It keeps trying to process life. It keeps trying to make sense of things that shouldn’t make sense.

  Alicia is passed out on her couch.

  We talked until our mouths were dry and our eyes were dull.

  There was a passion in the way we spoke.

  There was a cadence to our words that reminded me of what it means to be alive.

  There was more to us than collagen and leathery skin; there was a depth that I thought had been lost to complacency.

  I told her about Evaline.

  I told her about my yesterdays.

  I told her about what I had.

  I told her about what I lost and about all the things in my life that make less and less sense the further I get from them.

  She listened.

  She replied.

  She told me about her loves.

  Her losses.

  The little things that she misses from the years before.

  Awkward hands and nervous breathing.

  The conversation moved forward only to fall back.

  Back to the man with curly hair.

  The man who Alicia began running into a few years ago.

  Right around the time that her and I began speaking. Right around the time she and I began fucking.

  He had said ‘hi’ to her at the grocery store.

  And again the next week.

  Then at the coffee shop and on the sidewalk and everywhere else until it was more than coincidence.

  They would stop and chat and he would ask questions and she would answer and they would part.

  I still don’t know if it has anything to do with me. That’s why my mind keeps g
oing in circles. Maybe I’m just reading into things when I shouldn’t. Maybe I’m trying to put together a puzzle using all the wrong pieces. Maybe I’m just trying to put together the puzzle with the wrong picture in mind.

  Maybe we’re talking about two different people

  But it’s too coincidental.

  It’s too convenient.

  It has to be the same man.

  And I wonder where Evaline is right now.

  Is she with this curly haired man?

  I breathe in deeply.

  The air in Alicia’s apartment has a different taste to it.

  I hold it in.

  I try not to forget.

  Someday I will forget.

  Someday I will have to take a drug just remember this moment.

  I used to think that Evaline was part of me. I used to think that she was part of my heart and part of my soul. I used to think our love was perfect and beautiful in every way. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. I told myself that our love was perfect until I believed it.

  Now in this quiet moment where loss is the topic of the day, I realize that someday I will forget about her. Someday the time we spent together will seem insignificant.

  Someday I will move on and find another woman and get my life together and all the yesterdays that I spent with Evaline, they will be replaced with new yesterdays, they will be replaced with new loves and passions, new moments of depression and lonely jerk off sessions on the toilet. A day will come where I won’t be the same person. A day will come where Evaline will be nothing more than a picture in a drawer.

  In fifty-thousand years I won’t remember that this moment ever existed.

  I let out a sigh.

  I listen to the world around me.

  I don’t want to forget.

  Ever.

  12

  I take a pill.

  I want to be somewhere else.

  Time moves sideways.

  My chest grows tight.

  13

  ‘I love you , you fucking bitch.’

  This is me.

  I’m grabbing Evaline’s elbow.

  She’s crying.

  My nose is bleeding.

  And this is love.

  Uncontrolled.

  Primal.

  In some messed up way, this is love.

  ‘Let me go you fucking asshole.’ The words slip out from Evaline’s broken lips.

  She slaps me. It stings my face. She keeps cussing. We’re in her apartment. She kicks my gut. My grip is gone. I’m stumbling.

  My face connects with the ground. It’s cold. It soothes.

  Evaline keeps yelling.

  Slapping.

  Punching.

  I’m getting bruised.

  I’m bleeding.

  She runs her nails across my face. .

  ‘You fucking cunt, calm the fuck down.’ the words fall from my swollen lips.

  My hand goes to Evaline’s shoulder. She stumbles back.

  ‘Leave me the fuck alone, Ellis.’

  She’s on both feet.

  She tells me to get out of her apartment.

  ‘Fuck you’ is what I manage to yell back.

  My voice is broken from yelling. My eyes are clouding up. My broken skin is mixing with the air around me.

  ‘I’m not leaving until you apologize.’ This is my broken plea.

  ‘Apologize for what?’

  ‘For fucking another guy.’

  And Evaline’s hand lays across my face for a brief second. A slap. There’s a burning where the welt raises on my skin.

  ‘You fucked around on me first.’

  We’ve been together for one hundred years.

  We’re like children.

  There’s a pause.

  My shoulders slump.

  We’re catching our breath.

  I can’t bring myself to leave.

  Evaline breaks.

  Knee’s to the ground.

  She’s sobbing and crying and shaking and the tears mix with my blood and land on the floor like some sort of wet and sad poem.

  I’m watching.

  Not sure what to do.

  Not sure if I care to do anything.

  Eventually I’m on my knee’s next to her.

  We kiss.

  We kiss hard.

  Our faces are wet with blood and tears and spit and passion.

  We ache.

  It becomes a race to undress.

  Love isn’t spoken with vowels and consonants.

  Love is a verb.

  And we’re moaning.

  On the kitchen floor.

  There’s broken glass beneath us. It sandwiches between our backs and the linoleum.

  We cum at the same time. Evaline throws her head back. I grunt.

  Primal.

  Uncontrolled.

  From the gut.

  This is love.

  14

  So I wake up and my body aches and my head hurts and my eyes burn and I have to piss. It takes a moment, but I get up.

  Everything is blurry.

  I can hardly see. The sleep is clouding my head.

  I go to the bathroom.

  My body is slumping against the wall.

  The drugs are messing with me more and more every time I use them. I can feel them killing my brain and my body.

  I can’t stop.

  I keep holding onto yesterday.

  I keep holding on and all it does is hold me back.

  We’re all addicted to yesterday. Why else would this world be so nostalgic? My addiction is just a bit more physical in its nature.

  I shake my head.

  Everything is still blurry.

  My gut is aching.

  I stumble back to my room. Step by step, I’m propping myself up with the wall.

  My eyes are closed.

  I fall into bed.

  There’s something next to me.

  I turn around. It takes a second for my eyes to open properly.

  It’s Evaline.

  15

  I didn’t realize how much I had missed her.

  16

  Evaline is lying next to me.

  It can’t be real.

  I have to be dreaming.

  I am dreaming.

  Except I’m not.

  She’s there. Next to me. Touch, taste, smell and sight. Evaline’s there and sleeping. The same gentle snore. The same soft body movements. Even the same pajamas she wore years ago.

  For a moment I can’t speak.

  I can’t think.

  My mind can’t process anything other than the dim glow of the world around me.

  I’m lying in bed.

  In my parent’s house.

  Curled toes and squinting eyes.

  I figure I’m finally crazy.

  I reach my hand out to her.

  Lay it on her shoulder.

  She’s warm and soft and exactly like I remember her.

  My heart feels warm.

  It feels full.

  I smile.

  Sun in my face and parted lips; my voice cracks with a dry tongue that sticks to the roof of my mouth.

  ‘Evaline?’

  I give her a small shake. She jerks away and lets out a tired sigh.

  My hand is still on her shoulder.

  The sun rises and paints the room yellow.

  She tangles the sheets.

  I tangle them with her.

  She looks me in the eyes and smiles and yawns and breathes and exists.

  ‘Hey Ellis.’

  Her voice and sound and cadence are exactly as I remember.

  I lean in.

  We kiss.

  Tongue to tongue; we taste like morning.

  We hug.

  We hold.

  It’s dramatic. It’s epic.

  Cue the orchestra. Roll film.

  We hold each other until I lose track of time.

  Finally I whisper in her ear.

  ‘Where were you?’


  She pauses.

  17

  The morning is spent in bed.

  We look like quotation marks as we lay together.

  It feels good.

  18

  We prepare dinner together.

  Me and Evaline. Evaline and I. There are a million things I want to ask her; unfortunately I can’t recall any of these things. We watch the sunset. We eat.

  There’s a calming feeling as she puts her hands around my arm and her head on my shoulder.

  I can’t find it in me to be upset with her for leaving. She can’t find it in herself to explain where she was. We leave it at that. I missed her too much to be upset, or maybe I didn’t miss her enough.

  The sun goes down the stars come up; they shine and reflect off of the glass outside. In my lifetime I have seen stars disappear from the night sky; pinholes that vanish from the landscape above. They were aged and gone long before I ever realized it had happened.

  When Evaline first held my hand I felt like I was going to throw up. I wanted it so badly; I had fucked it up so much. I assumed we were never going to be together. I assumed that my chance had passed.

  Right now, holding onto Evaline’s hand, I feel nervous. I feel the same way I did when we first held hands.

  There were points in my life where I doubted the reality of love. I doubted the true existence of such an emotion. I broke it down and looked at it as nothing more than a chemical reaction; I dehumanized it.

  At this moment; my doubt gives pause.

  Inside my parent’s house we sit in silence. We take each other in.

  Her hands are small and delicate and her fingernails are red and her skin is pulled and her body is tan and her teeth are white.

  For a moment I feel as if I had literally dreamt of this moment some time ago.

  And time, it passes far too quickly. We talk and we listen and for once I realize that Evaline is important to me. For once I don’t just know, but actually realize what Evaline means to me. I realize what it means to love her.

  Our conversation moves in a gentle flow. Nothing is truly spoken but we communicate in other ways. And it’s a soft squeeze and locked eyes because words don’t seem to work. We’re inside. We’re at the kitchen table. My parents come home.

  They’re together. They’re laughing. They were out dancing.

  When they walk into the kitchen they give me a strange look.

  I’m smiling.

  They’re not.

  ‘Hey!’ This is me being excited.