Zalfie--I Fall Apart

five

"Where the fuck are you??" I angrily demanded into my phone the next day.

"Bloomin' heck, Zo," Louise responded. "I have a toddler in the car, show a little class."

I put my hand to my mouth. "I'm sorry, Darcy!" I exclaimed.

Louise laughed. "She said 'It's okay, Schoe'."

One of the cutest things about Louise's daughter was her mispronunciation of my name. It was truly endearing--that and her and little fingers and feet and dimples and smile and . . . I'm getting sidetracked.

"Where are you? I'm sitting on the curb waiting for you. I swear if I miss my flight because of you . . . " I hit my right hand with my left fist.

"What are you, the mafia?" Louise teased. "And you have three hours until your flight leaves, I think you'll be fine. Since when are you so punctual anyway?"

"I'm turning over a new leaf, Louise," I said grandiosely. "And I'll thank you not to hold me back from reaching my full potential, my destiny. It's an age-old humanist belief, really. The Italian Renaissance may always be more famous, but I know my own personal rebirth will be in the textbooks some day."

"Christ, Zoe," Louise said, her brakes squealing as she halted at a stop light. "You sound like a psychopath. Maybe you were Jack the Ripper in one of your previous life. Or Charles Manson. Or the Axeman. Any of those old serial killers will do."

"Someone like Alexander the Great or da Vinci seems more likely to me," I laughed.

"Alright, lover," Louise answered, placating. "I'm turning on your street now, I'll see you in a min--oh my God, you weren't kidding. You really are on the curb."

"Like a shitty hooker!" I responded brightly, hanging up the phone, and dusting off my bum.

Louise jumped out of the car and ran over, squeezing me so tightly that she lifted me up into the air and shook me around.

"Chummyyyyy," she said, brushing back my hair. "You cute little bug."

I laughed her and cupped her face in my hands. "I'm going to miss you. And only you."

"Well, that hurts," Joe said. He had just walked out of the house--talk about timing.

I wrinkled up my nose. "Shut up, Joseph." I shook my head at Louise. "Always ruining the moment."

Joe didn't acknowledge my absolutely biting remarks. Instead he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly.

"Despite how despicably annoying you can be, Elizabeth," he whispered into my ear, "you are still--by some bloody miracle and testament to the psyche--one of my favorite people on this planet." Now he pulled back and looked me in the eyes. "I know you're going to accomplish greatness. I know you're going to make it. You truly have talent coming out the wazoo and, while that does make me one jealous little brother, it also makes me a proud one.

"I would say that you are your own worst critic, but you aren't--you're your second worst critic. Your worst critic was Nat. And he's gone. He's out of your life." Joe waved his hand, as if he was a magician that had just mad Nat vanish into thin air. "Without that negativity in your life, I am more sure of you than ever--and I have always been pretty--pretty dang sure of you."

"He's right, Zo," Louise stepped forward. "I'm lowkey bitter that you're leaving me with this absolute mad man" she gestured to Joe "but I know that it'll be worth it in a few months when everyone knows your name."

I looked back and forth between the two of them and, for the first time ever, I had doubts about what I was doing. I acted as though everyone I knew in England wanted me to fail and was toxic, but it truly was just Nat. I had so many people who cheered me on and supported me and did so many things for me in little ways--Louise even driving me to the airport was an act of love. The fact that I was willing to give it all away made me feel ungrateful and selfish. I wondered--for more than just a brief moment--if I should call it quits. If I should go out for lunch with Gaby and Louise and Joe, like it was any other day. If I should haul my suitcases back inside and unpack and everything. If I should continue on my life as I had been--publishing blogs and working at a restaurant. It was cozy, friendly, reliable. What really was so wrong about reliability? About routine? About habit? Plenty of people would kill for the life I had, the simplicity and ease of it all.

But I knew what I had to do. What story of success have you ever heard that doesn't take place with a sacrifice, a bargain, an act of faith?

And here was my sacrifice: hopping onto a plane into the great unknown. Uprooting my life and changing everything--possibly for no reason.

If I failed, it would be the greatest failure of my life. I would return home like a dog with its tail between its legs. Everyone would know that I didn't have what it took. That I couldn't make it. That I wasn't talented or good enough. I would be a fool among my peers--the example of someone who was so arrogant that they thought they were better than they were--they really thought it.

I would heal, though. I knew I would. Overtime, I would get over it. Instead of being resentful forever, I would eventually heal.

With all these thoughts still in my head, I pulled together a smile and squeezed Joe as hard as I could.

"I love you, baby brother," I told him. "I'll miss you and being your roommate. Please, please, please stay in touch. Call everyday if you have the time! Please! I want to know everything that's happening already. Don't forget to write--at least once a week. Maybe twice. Every other day?"

Louise gently pulled me away. "Alright, Zoe," she laughed. "You're beginning to sound an awful lot like a clingy girlfriend."

Joe nodded, his forehead wrinkled and his eyes closed. "I'm having flashbacks," he said, as Louise gently guided me to the car, throwing in suitcases as she did. Joe followed in suit.

I laughed. "Take care of mum and dad," I told him. "Make sure you set aside time every week to go and visit them!"

He nodded. "I'll see you soon, too, Zo," he told me through the window of the car. "If you think I'm not going to use this as an excuse to visit the States, then you are sorely mistaken."

I nodded and laughed. Louise called "Bye, Joe!" and started the car. Slowly we began moving away from his spot on the sidewalk, from my house, from my garden, from my old room. Slowly, we began moving away from my old life.

I yelled, "I love you!" at him, as the car began picking up speed and he waved, "I love you too!"

Eventually, he disappeared.