Alpine

Gambit 2 - Fugue

Having him in the apartment below mine threw me dangerously off-kilter. It forced me to change everything. I refused to relinquish my balcony to his smoke, so I started getting up early. Out with my coffee at 5AM. Back in before the hour was up. No more sunrises. Jogging was off the table. Afterall, I might run into him on the streets. I only left my place to stock up on food or go to work. And I was leaving for work earlier and staying later.

My home was now a prison.

Strangely, he had done me the unexpected courtesy of taking the hint. He came and left at his normal hours instead of adjusting to my new schedule. He kept a comfortable physical distance between us when we had to talk.

Ryan noticed. He sent an email asking what changed. It stagnated in my inbox, marked as unread. I had no idea how to respond. A few days later, Ryan stopped by my desk while Switch was in a meeting. He quietly asked if we could talk. I shook my head. He let me be.

The next morning, I awoke to a note slipped under my apartment's door. It sat politely between my work shoes and messenger bag. A crinkled, folded over, half sheet of white paper. Unclogged waste from the dinosaur printer. A gift from Switch. I drank my coffee sitting on the kitchen floor shoved into a corner.

I considered leaving it. Pretending I had not seen it. But that would only delay the inevitable. If I ignored it, he would escalate until I paid attention. And he would escalate quickly. Reluctantly, I crept closer to the paper. Pushed my shoes and bag away. Picked up it like a limp pit viper that might have some life left in it. It opened to a short, hand-written message:

Hey,

Ryan's worried about you. He thinks I did something. I told him I didn't, but he doesn't believe me. Please tell him everything is okay between us.

Thanks

Crumpling the note, I hurled it at the door. It ricocheted off and skittered noisily across the wood floor. I slinked back into my corner. Bumped my head against the lower cabinets. The impact's sharp thunk sounded louder than the resulting pain felt.

I stared into space. I had long since given up processing the Moment we had in his apartment. All I knew was that it was unquestionably a Moment. What that meant in practical terms eluded me. Why did I have to deal with his demons when I was still quieting my own? Especially when Ryan had already committed himself to that hell. And what was I supposed to say to Ryan?!

"Yeah, we're fine. Nothing happened." "Not like he's been stalking me and moved into my apartment building." "He still gives me panic attacks, but we had a lovely chat about staying hydrated in hot weather!"

I put my mug on the counter, yanked myself to my feet, and stormed to the balcony. Exited. Cherry smoke. I got as far as the railing before I stopped myself. Screaming at him was pretty much the worst thing I could do. And what would it accomplish? Whatever the Moment meant, we had a solid truce again. Do not fuck that up. I wilted. I stepped away from the railing. I sat down on the concrete.

"Good morning, Charlie," I said without looking at him. "My life is in shambles right now. How are you doing?"

Charlie was never much of a conversationalist. His leaves rustled a bit in the breeze, but he was otherwise quiet.

"That's good. I hope you bloom soon too. You deserve a nice flower." I chattered similar nonsense at him until I heard the door below me slide open and close. Switch had finished his morning cigarette. I dragged my defeated hide into the apartment and responded to Ryan's email.

Something happened. I don't want to say it was bad. It was intense. It's hard to explain, and I'm still processing it. He's giving me more space now. So, at least there's that.