WANTED: Love of my Life

15. As cold and hard as... a toilet seat?

I didn't want to go to the shelter.

No... those words don't quite express what I felt. How could they? They were just words. Mere words could not be hurting like my heart was. All I wanted to do was curl up into a ball in some quiet corner and weep and wail until I had cried myself into sleep again. Perhaps sleep would bring me freedom from the pain in my heart. And maybe it wouldn't. After all, I thought, smiling drily to myself, I thought I'd found my dream guy. I had wanted to dream of him. But he... he hadn't... he hadn't wanted...

Pain. Unimaginable pain. Why couldn't someone just stick a knife into my heart?! That would hurt less, I was sure. And at least I would be done having to pretend! For my mother, for Mrs. Reynolds, even for Jen I had to keep it up, act like nothing at all had happened, like my life hadn't been destroyed on this, the blackest of days, that to them looked like any other.

No, I didn't want to go to the shelter. I didn't. I didn't. I didn't!

But I knew I had to – because I had promised as much to Debby, for once. I had promised to help after all, and I just couldn't let her down. And strangely enough, I kept seeing Prue's wrinkled old face, telling me how glad she was I had decided to help. Telling me what a nice girl I was. Somehow, I knew I had to go, even if it was the last thing in the world I wanted to do.

The bus to the shelter seemed to drive at the pace of a snail as it made its way through the city. The whole way I tried to imagine Giacomo's reaction to seeing me again – and also tried not to imagine it. Because it surely couldn't be good, could it? Could it? What would he say? What would he do? What would his face, his heavenly face look like, when he looked at me? What would I see in his eyes?

His eyes... for a minute or two, I lost myself in the memory of their shining inner light. Then the man sitting beside tapped me on the shoulder because he wanted to get past me. I stood up, and, looking out of the window, realized with some surprise that this was my stop, too. Hurriedly, I followed the man and slipped out just as the doors were about to close again.

Breathing heavily, I looked up at the dark brick building. How many times had I come here and had looked forward to it. Back then, St. Christopher's always seemed friendly to me. Slightly grimy of course, but friendly. A haven for the lost. But now it just seemed dark and menacing.

'Go on', I told myself. 'It won't get any easier, no matter how long you keep standing here!'

I had always been a procrastinator. So why not let it drag on a little longer? I could go somewhere and... and.. and what? I also had always been nosy. This was the one time I didn't want to know what was going to happen, know how it was all going to end. Because it had already ended, before it had begun. Everything in me screamed to run away, to hide. So I took a deep breath and went up the porch steps.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

He wasn't there yet. Thank God, he wasn't there yet. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't come. There were other shelters, weren't there? Perhaps he had found a place somewhere else.

Debby greeted me with her usual cheerfulness, completely oblivious to my own black mood. She put me to work immediately, and I immersed myself in it, trying to rid my head of all thoughts save celery and salad. Truly Amazing, all the stuff you had to do to a lettuce before it was fit for eating. It almost made you pity the poor things. They had to go through so much... I kind of understood how they must feel.

After ten minutes, I went to Debby and asked her for more work. When she asked what had happened to all the stuff I was supposed to be doing and I told her it was all finished, she stared at me strangely. I don't know why. Okay, perhaps I was breathing a bit heavily, and there might have been a few tears on my cheek – so what? I'd been cutting onions! I think.