Nothing You've Come To Expect - Alex Turner

30. you're the only one that bent me this far out of shape

I lift myself up, sobbing in despair. My head is killing me, I need to clean my face and I feel stiff and dehydrated; no wonder, I've been on the floor bawling my eyes out for at least an hour, if not more.
Mr. Whiskers observed me for some time, disconcerted, then tested my mood for cuddles. He leaned his head to my hand like he knew that his fur between my fingers gives me comfort.

I get up and walk like a zombie to the kitchen to get some cold water and I moan in pain when I see our silly photobooth pictures from his birthday that I hung on the fridge with a magnet, together with other ones.
I grab the strip and set it on the kitchen counter face down, so I do with the other photos of us and notes we left to each other. How horrible it feels to think about happy times after something sad happened.

I clean my face with some paper towel and I gulp down some fresh water. My throat and my head feel a little better, but it's pretty much it.
Fuck I have to call work still. There is no way I'm going in this afternoon. Not like this. I need to stop crying, calm down a little, but I just can't.

It's not even 9:00 in the morning, but I need something a bit stronger than water.
I drag myself to the bar cart in the living room, and I pick up a bottle. Tequila, his happy drink. Let's see if it helps me feel a little less unhappy.
I gulp down a full shot glass of the stuff, grimacing, then I slam it on the coffee table.
I let myself fall in a sitting position on the couch, pinching the bridge of my nose. I take a few deep breaths.

I take advantage of the moment of apparent calm to make my call.
I talk to the Director, sniffling. "...I'm afraid I caught a bad (heartache) cold during the weekend, hopefully it isn't the flu! ...I think I'll stay home for a couple of days, I don't want to bring anything into the office..."
I reckon the sniffling and the crappy voice made me sound sick, because he didn't question it.

Seems like the tequila is working. I pour another shot and down it threwing my head back. My eyes land on the vintage movie poster on the wall. I remember when Alex found that at an antique store and he got so excited. I feel a squeeze in my heart and water pooling in the corner of my eyes again.
I get up, taking the bottle with me, and I start wandering around the house like a lost soul. Weeping and sobbing, I take sips of straight liquor, not knowing what to do with myself. Everywhere I look there's something that reminds me of him.

I walk by Alex's studio. I realize right away that going in that room it's a mistake but I can't stop myself.
He took his electric piano with him when we left to spend our last weekend together in LA, as he wanted to take it to London with him. I stare at that empty spot and it visually hurts me, like a missing tooth.
I can't stay here. It's a pain.
Alex told me I could stay as long as I needed, but I need to go. I can't live in a house that is haunted by the ghost of him and me.

ME
Cla would you take me back?

CLAUDIA
Oh, Ann... what happened?

Claudia knew how I was feeling and that I was going to talk to Alex this past week. She was sure we would figure things out. "I can't imagine you two not being together. You'll sort it out," she told me for days.

ME
It's over...

CLAUDIA
Oh noooo!! I'm so sorry chica☹
Are you ok?

ME
No... 💔

CLAUDIA
I'm teaching another class then I'm free- I'll come over ok? Hang in there

CLAUDIA
Ps: of course I'll take you back, babe. My tenant is leaving at the end of the month.

ME
I love you so much Claudia. I never tell you. I love you so much girl.

I'm drunk.
A week and a half 'til the end of the month. Can I do it? I don't think so. But I don't have a choice. In the meantime I'll have another sip of tequila.