Psycho Killer

Take 12: Cafe Crying & Stardom

Enid's POV:

Seven months have passed since the abrupt end to our once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I haven't seen anyone since then. I knew the moment I saw Kip on the shower room floor, it would be the last time I saw him for a while. Forever perhaps. A week after everything was sorted, Tarek admitted himself to the local psychiatric hospital for treatment. I can't see him for another five months at least. Jodee and Tina have fallen off the face of the planet. I can't blame them.

I've been in therapy for four months. It doesn't take away from the niggling need to sleep forever, but it takes the edge off. I continue living. By living, I mean functioning. I eat now and then, sleep most of the time and sit at cafe tables playing with pricey breakfast foods.

Brownies make me psychically ill.

God, why haven't I married you yet? I hear it every time, feel his lips on mine. I lost him in so many ways that day.

I lost everything that day.

~

I'm used to people staring at me whilst I sit at cafes, tears streaming down my cheeks. I talk to waiters like I'm not struggling to find my words. It hits me for different reasons each time. I've nearly lost my job so many times because of these random waves.

My boss sent me home today, but I don't want to be there. So now I'm crying at another cafe, missing Kip Cooper more than anyone in the world right now. I'm not sure I'm ever going to heal without him.

"That seat taken?" I shake my head, unable to lift it and address the needy person asking me for a chair. "Of course, it's not. You're a mess, Enid Jones." My eyes snap up to his face. Contorting in an instant, to a much uglier crying. He sits down next to me.

"You're like some kind of genie that appears when thought about?" I let out a pathetic chuckle.

"If I did that, I would be teleporting all over the place." He jokes with a bright smile. "No, you see, I used to know this girl, the love of my very gay life. We used to hate the movies that ended in two old friends smiling at each other from across a cafe room. So, we made a vow. Ridiculous, I know." He taunts. I roll my eyes, still sniffling.
"If you see an old friend across the cafe, you must approach and say, 'That seat taken?'" I repeat to him. That feels like forever ago.

"Exactly." He nods.

"You didn't have to stick to that, you dork." I tease.
"I wanted to Enid Jones. Don't think I can live without you." I'm taken aback for a moment by his genuineness. "Shocking, isn't it?" He says.

"It suits you." I nod. "I don't think I can live without you either, Kip Cooper." Taking his hand in mine is the best feeling ever.

"Alright then, let's go." He keeps hold of it, leading me down the street.
"Where are we going?"
"Well, obviously, regular therapy isn't working, so I'm going to give one chance at convincing me retail therapy is worth the agony." He gives me a pointed look.
"I love you, Kip Cooper." I squeeze his hand.

"I love you more, Enid Jones."

~
Kip and I moved in together a few months ago. I can feel some form of life coming back to me with him around to annoy me. There are still nights where he has to hold me and nights where I have to hold him. We call them sleepovers.

And sometimes if that doesn't work we go midnight grocery shopping. Hitting the deserted aisles on starving stomachs and filling our trolley with absolutely useless things. Some of the best recipes have been created from this method.

"We really gotta stop using our grocery money for this," Kip laughs, picking up a persimmon fruit. "Let's get this."
"100%." I agree with him. "But I want that one." I pick up an oddly shaped one.
"We can't just not get this guy now." He refers to the one in his hand. "He thought he was going to be chosen. Live out his life's purpose. Be in my stomach." Kip pats his stomach.