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CLAUDIA Heinz dated precariously and preciously. She took care of her relationships and she considered them sacred. Unlike the rest of us who had fun with it, Claudia actually went into dating in consideration of finding the one.
The one always seemed like a stretched concept to me, but you couldn't tell that to Audie. Her the one existed, in a white horse or as a white knight, it didn't matter. As long as he existed, she was on the hunt to find him.
To the rest of us of lesser... wholesome, more conventional, almost torridly bitter and horrifically grim views if you ask a certain category of people, found this akin to self-subjected torture and destruction.
And because she set herself to go through that, to wind herself up to dream that high, put people on pedestals— fight when it could be a fail, fight until the rose-tinted glasses could no longer hide the ugliness — she also set herself to feel the impact of thudding back on earth when they choose to break her heart.
She gave them ammunition when they already had a gun.
Truth be told, not all of her breakups end poorly. In fact, she has the best record of calm and envious breakups. Of sitting down in front of each other, low murmurs of words that seem to drag on until they inevitably go to the real point with a sheepish tilt of their head, a weird curl in their lips, and end. Right then and there.
And though Claudia would smile back, shakily, painfully, the ugly truth of breakups crack something inside her every time, and we get the girl who is just as a mess like the rest of us.
Breakups bring the ugliness in people. Whether they're the ones breaking up or the ones receiving the blow. It's the retaliation, the depression. It's the afterward that shows you a fissure of yourself you've never seen before.
And Claudia, who was doing so well, cracked once again.
"Jesus Christ, Naddy, I don't know where the fuck I am," was her greeting at three in the morning, the sun still obscure and my eyes half sewn shut. I fumbled for my phone and the glare of it made me want to chuck it, but Claudia's panicked wheezy voice gave me a jolt.
"What do you mean?" I sat up slowly, feeling the painful throb of my bones. I had been up last night working on the bare bones of a piece I had finally found the pefect thread for.
I always have a fun time at the Fabrics District, perusing rows and rows of fabrics, and hitting up a hotdog stand later. It follows an adrenaline shot of excitement and productivity to work on it immediately until I reached 1am last night and a poor, bent back.
"Oh w-wait, I think I'm somewhere near Hummers. You need to pick me up and help me, oh my god." She was getting frazzled, her voice pitching even through a whisper. "I did it again, Naddy. I shouldn't— I did it again."
