Unrequited

Still Struggling - Spring, 1996

After their spat about Arianna's lack of trust in John, he had been trying very hard to prove himself worthy of her. In fact, while he was away on tour, he had been bordering on becoming annoying. Every time he missed her, wanted a drink, or wanted to get high, he called her. It had become several times a day, every day. She tried her best not to be annoyed with him, especially since she knew she was the biggest part of his recovery support network, but a few times, she had snapped at him a bit. Maybe not exactly snapped, but the irritation had been clear in her voice. And then she'd felt guilty because she had heard the disappointment in his voice.

The Neurotic Outsiders tour dates had ended just before Valentine's Day, so they were able to be together for that special day. John took her to dinner, where he gave her roses - red this time - and also gave her diamond hoop earrings. She scolded him for spending that kind of money on her, as she knew he was struggling financially, but he insisted she deserved the gift. After dinner, he took her to his apartment. She had never been there, as they had always gone to her house, and she was quite stunned by what she saw. Or rather, didn't see.

"Where's all of your stuff, John?" she asked, looking around in shock at how bare the place was.

"What stuff are you referring to?" he retorted, with a smart-ass smirk twisting his lips.

"Oh, I don't know," she started sarcastically. "The furniture, the paintings.... the stuff," she added as she gestured about and looked utterly amazed.

"Sold it," John answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Excuse me?" she sputtered.

"I sold most of it," he told her as he entered the small kitchen.

He opened the refrigerator door, grabbed two bottles of water, and handed one to Arianna as she joined him in the kitchen. She thanked him as she leaned against the doorframe, still surprised by his sparse apartment. He leaned back against the counter as he took a swig of his water, looking at Arianna in amusement.

"Tell me the cars are in Birmingham or something," she continued on the path.

"Sold them too. I didn't realize you were so materialistic, Arianna," he admonished.

He walked past her and into the living room, where the only furniture was a recliner, a futon, and a plastic table with a nondescript lamp on it. Another small wooden table held his TV. John sat in the recliner, grabbed the remote from the arm, turned on the TV, and started to flick through the channels.

Arianna came into the room and looked at John, flabbergasted. She was not only surprised by the lack of things in his place but also because he'd sat in that chair where she couldn't easily join him. She walked over and perched herself on the edge of the arm, watching him change the channels and wondering why she was there. He was ignoring her quite well, and it was making her angry.

"Should I go home?" she snapped.

John looked up at her as if her words had just brought him out of a daydream. He looked stunned, like he had forgotten she was there. He quickly turned off the TV and then pulled her into his lap. He caressed her cheek and then traced her lips with his fingers.

"I don't mean to go on about it," she started.

"But you're going to," he countered, smirking again.

"Yes, I am. Why did you sell all of the stuff?" she asked, and he sighed, dropping his head.

That truth embarrassed him, but he needed her to know it. To make her understand. To make her trust him.

"Some of it was repossessed. Some of it I sold to pay off debt. Some of it I sold to... buy drugs," he confessed sadly, and suddenly Arianna hated that she had pried.