Innocent Milf

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

The next week passed in a miserable blur.

I went back to college. What else was there to do? Aaron and I had agreed to be roommates again. But now all of our old jokes felt hollow. I attended classes, but it felt like I was sleepwalking through them. Every outlet in which I tried to find solace just reminded me more of Cary. Reading something new made me want to talk to her about it. Playing my mandolin or the piano just made me want to play for her. Practicing aikido made me think of knife practice. So I mostly just stopped doing all of it.

I barely cracked a smile as I learned who shot Mr. Burns. I didn't care when I heard that Bob Packwood was about to be expelled from the Senate. Space shuttle launches and MTV awards didn't move the needle at all.Se7enhit theaters and made a big pop culture splash, and I didn't even notice. I had retreated into my own fugue-state of depression.

By the time I turned 20, my family and Jack knew something was up. Jack was very philosophical in a way that made me crazy--he actually agreed with Cary. He said that taking some time away was the best thing he and Jenna had done. I almost stopped talking to him altogether, but I was already hurting inside, and the thought of not talking to my best friend as well as my girlfriend was too much.

My parents were supportive, but treated it as an inevitable breakup that they had seen coming from a mile away. It made me so angry at them that our conversations for the next few months were strained. I blamed them more than most for supporting and amplifying Cary's ideas about "trapping me." And while I didn't go out of my way to punish them, they knew that I wasn't happy--with them or the situation in general.

By turns angry at everything, morose, and bleakly depressed, I spent the first few months of my second full year of college driving everybody else away. Aaron seemed to take it almost as hard as I did; the relationship between Cary and I had served as a model and an aspiration for him. He tried to cheer me up, but ultimately knew that when I was in a black mood it was better to let me go for a walk alone or to go furiously play piano in the practice spaces. I spent a lot of time staring at the sexy photos Cary had given me last Christmas through stinging eyes.

I still wore my ring.

As midterms approached, it became clear that my academic standing was suffering. I tried to make myself care, but imagining a future without Cary made it difficult to stay invested in what I now perceived as the trivialities of school. I received more than one concerned message from various professors urging me to shape up, but it just didn't seem worth the time to wake up on time and go to class every day.

Unexpectedly, it was Todd who finally broke me out of my funk.

During a particularly sour exchange about the impermanence of anything--including love--during Philosophy, he started looking at me strangely. As class broke, he approached. "Hey, man. What's the deal? You've had a stick up your ass all semester. And not the 'holier than thou' kind from last year."

"Fuck off, Todd. I'm having a rough day." I said it without any heat.

"You're having a roughmonth," Todd corrected. "What's the matter? Not getting any?"

My molten glare caused him to take a step back, but he quickly rebounded. "No way. What about you and your wet T-shirt hottie?"

I almost punched him. But the fire died quickly, and I just turned a desolate gaze on him. "She dumped me, all right?"

Completely flummoxing me, he grabbed me in a one-armed bro-hug. It was so unanticipated that I just froze. He stepped back. "Sorry, man. That really sucks. And it sounds like it wasn't mutual, huh?"

"What do you think?" I replied sullenly.

"I think you're finally part of the club," he answered. "Come on--you and I are hanging out for the rest of the day."

Maybe I was curious. Maybe I really thought he'd have something insightful to say. Maybe I was just tired of being sad and angry. So instead of telling him to go kick rocks, I went with him to Hooters for a late lunch. Even though every girl that walked by just made me think of Cary, Todd encouraged me to just enjoy the orange-shorted scenery as we talked.

"So, what happened?" he asked.

Liss, Aaron, Jack, and even my parents had all asked the same question. But this time, it was different. Todd didn't really know anything about Cary and I. No preconceptions, no expectations. So I told him everything. As afternoon deepened into evening and we ordered more food and drink, I told him about how we met, how we fell in love, about our first steps together. I told him about Eric and his scheming paranoia, and even hinted at some of Cary's dark relationship past.

By the time it was dark outside, Todd blew out a breath and sat back. "Fuck, dude. And then after all that, she just called it off out of the blue?"

I threw up my hands. "She said we needed space. Or whatever. That she wanted me to have a year of the 'real college experience.' That'syourfault by the way. You said it at Spring Break. She felt like I didn't know what I was saying yes to."

Our waitress stopped suddenly as I spoke. She was dark-haired, dark-eyed, and round in all the right places. She looked between both of us. "Wait, so your girlfriend didn't actually dump you?" she asked. "She just wanted to take a break?"

I gazed at her incredulously. She shrugged. "Hey, you've been sitting here for two hours, and your voice carries sometimes. We got invested in your story."

"We?" I looked back and forth, suddenly aware that I had an audience. Three more waitresses on shift waved sheepishly from behind the drink station.

I sighed. "She said that she needed me to take a year and see what it was like without her before I came back to her."

The waitress nodded sympathetically. "Oh, it's like that poem."

"Poem?" I frowned.

"Sure," she said. She stood straighter, as if formally reciting. It made her boobs poke out even further under her tight tank-top. "If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they're yours; if they don't they never were."

I grimaced; it sounded like what Cary had said. Todd grunted. "I thought that was a song."

"Isn't it from a book?" I replied.

"You're missing the point," the waitress huffed.

I shook my head slowly. "No, I get it." For the first time in two months, a light had formed at the end of the tunnel, however distant. "I think you're right. That's what she meant. But I wasn't trapped to begin with. There was no need to 'free' me."

"You scared her," another waitress said, approaching. This one was a freckled redhead that reminded me suddenly of one of the girls at Ty's graduation party. I suddenly wondered if I should call him to discuss this. The waitress plopped down a Pepsi refill next to my elbow. "She wasn't used to something good, and what you had sounded too good to be true. She didn't think she deserved it. So she broke it off before it could go bad. I've seen it before when girls have only had bad boyfriends."

"She didn't actually dump him--they're just taking a break," the dark-haired waitress clarified.

"What's the difference?" I asked grumpily. "Either way I don't get to see her for a year."

Todd, however, was electrified by this news. "Dude, are you kidding? This changes everything! This isn't a breakup--it's arumspringa!"

"A what?"

"When Amish kids go into the real world for a while, to see if they really want to be Amish or not. How can you be such a know-it-all and not have heard of rumspringa?" Todd gestured at me with a denuded chicken wing bone.

"I'm not a know-it-all," I objected. But somehow, I was starting to feel less gloomy.

"You've been wasting your time!" Todd continued. "She told you to have the real college experience, and instead you've been pouting like a kid who lost his favorite toy, as if it will bring her back faster."

The girls had gathered around, and were nodding. "If you don't try things out, she'll just keep wondering," the tall blonde said. "Sounds like you don't trust her judgment."

"She didn't trustmyjudgment!" I shot back. Waseverybodyin this restaurant in on this? "I told her I wanted to stay with her, and she said I didn't know enough to commit to that."

Todd shook his head. "Soearnher trust, man. Show her you can go wild and do all the things she wanted for you, and still come back more in love with her than ever." He shrugged. "Or prove her fears right and save her a messy divorce when you hit middle age."

"How areyouin a position to give me advice about this?" I demanded.

Todd smiled mirthlessly. "Hey, man. I've hooked up almost every weekend since last year. Sometimes more than once. You don't do that without learning something about being dumped. And why."

I sighed and looked over the impromptu assembly. I had underestimated Todd, the same way I had underestimated Jack. And these women had just helped me to maybe save my relationship. From that day forward, I made it a point to try to be less arrogant; wisdom could come from anybody, and people were smarter than I thought.

After thanking the waitstaff and tipping as much as I could (given my meager college budget) we all took a picture together. Todd got at least one of the waitresses' phone numbers, and clapped my shoulder as we left into the early October air. "My mission is clear, now, my young apprentice. We are going to get you all the college life you can handle. This is your year of saying yes."

* * * * *

* * * * *

That was when I started to write Cary the letters.

The first one was in a plain envelope with no return address: I didn't want her to close it back up after seeing it was from me. I wrote it out longhand so she'd know that I had taken the time to really think about things. I wrote it over and over, and threw out the rejects as I tried to get my thoughts together. I didn't want to sound petulant or angry.

After multiple attempts and a pile of crumpled stationary next to my desk, I had something I felt did the trick.

Mon amour,

I hope you're doing better than I am. I have spent the past two months in misery. Hopeless and angry that you didn't trust my judgment. Sad that your prior relationships made you so gun-shy of happiness and stability. But I want you to know that Idon'thate you. I could never hate you.

I'm not angry anymore, but I don't think the hurt will go away until I can see you again. Since you won't talk to me, I'll just say this and then leave you alone for the next ten months if that's what you really want.

I'm going write and send one letter every week telling you what I have done. So that you believe that I am getting the 'real college experience' that you thought was so important for me to have. I don't expect you to read or even open the letters. But they'll be there just in case you ever get in a funk and need a dose of my voice to cheer up.

I don't agree and I don't understand this. And I don't think I ever will. I'm perfectly capable of developing into an independent, well-rounded human being while also being happy with you.

But if you truly feel in your heart that this is the only way forward for us, then I'll do it. I'd walk over broken glass for you. This won't be much worse, I guess. And if you actually have doubts, then I want you to take your own advice as well: live your year as if you had never met me. Do what your friends keep urging you to do--especially Lori. Find yourself independent of me. And when we come together again next year, I hope your doubts have evaporated.

Obviously, you don't need permission from me. But if you feel like you need it, here it is. It tears me up to even think of you being with another guy, but I'd rather you tried it and found out that what you and I have really is one-in-a-million than keep feeling like you can't trust happiness. Go drinking, go dancing, go on the prowl with Sami and Samantha. Whatever it takes.

One of my classmates called this arumspringa: I hadn't heard of it, but maybe you have. When we both come back to the fold, I'll still be fully committed. I hope that's what you were trying to find out.

I love you. I have since nearly the moment I met you, and I think I always will.

I'll end every letter with a happy memory: remember the time I called you at 11:30 at night to come do Bowie knife practice in the park, and we spent an hour sparring while my portable tape deck playedQueen? One of the neighbors called the police and we escaped into the dark, laughing.

Yours always,

--Matt

* * * * *

* * * * *

Aaron and Beth broke up shortly before Halloween. Because I was still sunk in my self-absorbed unhappiness, I wondered if it had anything to do with Cary and I being apart. I expected Aaron to act like I had after my first breakup--furious, confused, and ready to blame anybody except myself. I steeled myself to be his shoulder to cry on even as I felt like falling apart myself.

However, belying his inexperience with relationships, Aaron was very mature about it. Both Aaron and Beth told me they both still wanted to be friends with each other and with me, but that they realized the only things that they had in common were history, Japanimation, and they had both started out very inexperienced with love and sex. I felt like another stone in the house of normalcy had fallen away.

I had stopped going to Aikido--or much of anything else--at first. Aaron dragged me back, noting that I had started to work on my "freshman fifteen" a year late. Sitting around eating junk food and feeling sorry for myself had taken a bit of a toll, and my first few practices back left me stiff and sore. Still, it felt good to dosomethingthat seemed normal, even if all the colors seemed dimmer and the music sounded grimmer.

Sensei Lehrman welcomed me back with no sense of judgment, and put me through my paces. The rest of the group went out of their way to welcome me back. A new girl named Angela who looked like her namesake--a pale-blonde angel with cornflower-blue eyes--shyly shook my hand and thanked me for throwing her around.

Walking back from the Rec Center, Aaron snorted in disbelief. "God, even when you're a chubby, depressed mess the girls can't help but smile at you."

I frowned at 'chubby' but didn't have the heart to argue. "She was just being polite," I answered.Plentyof girls had avoided smiling at me, and I had been perfectly content to stew in my own gloom. I realized I was touching my ring.

"Are you going to the Halloween party this year?" Aaron asked timidly to change the topic.

"Todd has me on the hook for going to one," I sighed. "I don't think it can compare with last year. But Cary would want me to."

Aaron frowned a little--I think he had been hoping for me to go to the history department party again so that he would have somebody to hang out with. He had his Anime Club friends now, so at least I wasn't his only social outlet. I frowned more than a little myself, thinking of going to an alcohol-fueled college party off-campus without Cary. It seemed completely upside-down.

However, I was spending a lot of time trying to catch up with all of my missed work so that I could still pass all my classes this semester. The party couldn't compete against all that for headspace. It was an uphill slog, but I apologized to all of my professors, and surprised them by putting in the extra time to show that I was serious. Why not? I had no reason to do anything except schoolwork or Aikido now.

By the time Halloween rolled around, I was more or less forgiven for my academic sins. I was also bone-tired. By the end of each week, I barely had enough energy left to write and send Cary a letter and stare zombie-like at whatever movie Aaron had chosen. So when Todd showed up at my dorm room, pounding the door like it owed him money, I was about ready to just go to bed and pretend like I wasn't home. Aaron opened the door, however.

"Traitor," I groused.

"You need to get off your butt and do something fun," he replied. "Aikido practice is a start, but it's not enough. If you're not going to hang out with me, you should at least hang out withsomebody."

"And that's me," Todd announced, barging into the room. "I'm somebody. In fact, I'm the somebody who's going to help you break out of your dry spell tonight." He handed me a trash bag full of clothing. "Put these on."

I dug out the various articles of clothing, until I recognized it as a cowboy outfit. Having a quick, unpleasant flashback to Cary's birthday party, I shook my head. "I can't wear this."

"Nobodycan wear it like Eastwood," Todd agreed. "But put it on anyway. The Man with No Name will be a great conversation starter. Any chick who listens to you talk about literature or history for more than a minute without leaving issureto hop into the sack with you."

I grimaced. Aaron shrugged. "It makes a twisted sort of sense," he admitted.

"I hate you both," I said. But I did find some tan slacks to put on under the poncho and hat. A toy six-shooter completed the set. I almost summoned the wherewithal to smirk, thinking that my Bowie knife would have been a great addition. Too bad it was back in a trunk in my parents' house. Attired appropriately, I followed Todd out the door, waving at Aaron.

"I'll make an appearance here and try to make some civil conversation," I said. "But I can't promise to be my sparkling best."

Todd shook his head, nearly dislodging his tacky wig and brass-rimmed sunglasses. "Don't worry about it. You're the man of mystery tonight--the guy who spent his first year avoiding willing women like he was a priest. Once I tell the right people that Galahad Baker is the Man with No Name, you'll have to beat the girls off with a stick." He grinned. "If you're lucky,they'llbeatyouoff."

I rolled my eyes. "Who are you supposed to be, anyway?"

"Bernie," he answered, waving hands up and down over his gray-striped T-shirt and blue button-up. "You know, fromWeekend at Bernie's. The dead guy. I've got a whole thing going where Allan is going to pose me with a drink, and encourage girls to come drape themselves on me for pictures."

I was almost impressed. We hopped into Todd's car and drove a short distance. The party house wasn't hard to spot--an army of tacky decorations had been arranged on the front lawn, and music thumped from within its weathered walls, augmented by cheers and shouts. I took a deep breath, as if about to dive into cold water.

It wasn't as bad as I'd feared. It turned out to be mostly film-studies students, all of whom immediately recognized our costumes. Everybody seemed to be dressed up as characters from a movie, and I gradually began to relax into the fun of guessing what character each person was supposed to be. Some of them were pretty obscure, but I got some brownie points for guessing that the guy who looked like Japanese Obi-Wan Kenobi was fromYojimbo. We had a brief chuckle about coming to the party as essentially the same character but from different countries. I'd have to thank Aaron later for showing me that movie.

After an hour of politely engaging in light conversation, and accepting drinks but only sipping, I was feeling pretty worn out. Not only was I physically weary, but everything reminded me of Cary again. The dancing, the costumes, the conversation all felt a little hollow without her there to enjoy it. But just as I was feeling like it was time to gracefully make my exit, a slow trickle of girls started floating towards me, one by one.