Frozen

Cold flames

The hours crept by silently; the exact opposite thing my thoughts were doing: they kept roaming around my mind way too noisily.

During that excruciating waiting I learnt a lot about the new Bette. Apparently, she became a huge figure in the art world: she opened two galleries. One in New York and the other one was in Europe; Rome for being precise. And she was thinking about opening another one. In Paris, maybe. Peggy helped her for she thought working as a curator at the Whitney wasn't really a good position for her. Her art knowledge should expand and reach overseas. In Peggy's opinion, her talent was too good to be wasted like that, within the US confines.

I was shocked to learn all of it from Helena as Bette and she never really got along, since what happened during our first break up. Not even Kit knew most of what the British woman told us. What stunned me the most, was the way she talked about her: it was in a worshipping kind of way. I could see her eyes shine as she spoke and the light coming from the fireplace gave them an even brighter look. I didn't know why but a wave of jealousy hit my body. Could have something happened between those two? Another brick added to my already-too-thick wall of thoughts.

As she went on and on talking about Bette's successes I could feel a stinging sensation building up in my gut. She knew a lot about the new Bette and she knew too much. Where she was living now: a huge penthouse nearby Central Park; when the new show was coming. She told us about her last exhibit and how greatly she did. She seemed as though she couldn't stop talking. I missed a lot about her. Hell, I missed her! And the sad thing was that I didn't have the right to feel that way. I drove her away. She was beaten; she was broken; she was falling right before my eyes and I stabbed her... a perfect, accurate stab into her heart.

Helena words seemed to show a stronger Bette; even more confident than the one I met, in 1997, at the Bette Porter Gallery. And I was pleased, at least, she managed to fix her own issues. Although, I didn't know that every bit – little piece by little piece – of the loving, passionate and caring Bette I knew was buried beneath an insurmountable mountain of sorrows.

The room was quiet now. I was alone, sitting on the couch and I was suddenly captivated by the tongues of fire coming from the fireplace, dancing before me. Their crackling was the only sound I could hear. Bette and I were like those flames. No matter what, we always kept reaching upward, trying to go as high as possible; moving together, fusing together. Occasionally, one of them could, momentarily get lost and disappear, tearing away from the other, but a new flame could immediately rise from another one and start dancing again. There was no start and no end... we started and we were supposed to never end.

We did end. A fire needs to be fed but we let it die of starvation. The flames became smaller, until they stopped moving together, and, in the end, a heap of ashes took their place. The thin line of smoke was just the remembrance of something that once had been there and the darkness around it declared the end of it all. As a seaman, I blindly sailed the ocean; my lighthouse was out of sight.

A slight shift on the couch caught my attention. Kit was now sitting beside me and I could read a concerned expression on her face. She smiled sympathetically and took my right hand in hers.

"What's bothering you, baby girl?" she asked me. Those simple but heartfelt words brought tears in my eyes. I had hurt her sister and despite everything that happened she never, in any kind of way, treated me differently. She had been by my side, nonetheless, when our friends saw me as a traitor. She, somehow, understood I was not myself and tried to find the real Tina, who was hidden in some dark and forgotten place within me.

I shook my head and sighed "The guilt, Kit. The guilt is overwhelming me like a heavy burden, I can't breathe"

She might have said something to try to reassure me, but she nodded, instead, and kept silent. She just sat there, holding my hand. Her presence was enough to give me comfort. I was glad she wasn't talking for I was sure I wouldn't believe any word coming out her mouth. Not because I didn't want to, but the thought that she could be wrong and that I could possibly face a deep disappointment was killing me. At the same time, the guilt increased, as I wasn't worth such a charitable act: I deserved every bit of the hell I was living in.

I glanced at the clock for the nth time: it was fifteen minutes to two. The seconds hand was marching to the beat of my heart. It was like my life depended on it. The feeble tic mirrored the loud thud I could feel in my chest. I needed some air; I knew I was panicking. I scoffed at the irony of it all. The person who was once able to ease my panic attacks was now the cause of them.

• • •

I still remember how she would, with just a simple word and a gentle touch, ease the stifling sensation. How she would promise me everything was going to be fine; how she made me believe it.

"Easy, T. You're going to be fine. It's okay" the words she spoke still echoed through my mind.

We'd been together for two years and it was the first time I had one of my usual panic attacks in her presence. I was still working at Alphaville and I had a major crisis due to my job; she had been there to pull me up. The way she took the helm and guided me through it all had been wonderful. She held me, cradled me. I never felt that safe in my entire life. Whispering soothing words and rocking me, she managed to calm me down.

Feeling safe. That's how I lived the seven years with her. She was my rock but I didn't realize I was hers too. We were two block of stones embedded together. As one of them collapsed, the other one did the same.

Feeling safe had been the thing I'd been craving for when I gave birth to Angelica. My rock collapsed; I collapsed with her. The same thing happened to Bette when I lost the baby. I collapsed; she collapsed with me. What fools we had been, looking for help out of our relationship, not realizing our salvation was within the walls of our love.

As Sigmud Freud once wrote in 'Reflections on War and Death': It is really too sad that it may happen in life as in chess, where a false move can force us to lose the game, but with this difference, that we cannot begin a return match.

It took two false moves – one Bette's, one mine – to lose the game.

• • •

Standing on the deck, I finally managed to ease the attack; imagining Bette's sweet voice talking me through it. I shiver as a strange sensation crossed my body. I pull my arms around my own body trying to warm myself up, but the cold sensation reached every deepest corner of my body. She was near. Years ago I would feel a warming sensation each time she was close; today, it was a freezing feeling and it frightened me.

Finally, a car pulled in the driveway and I felt my heart sank. My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't move. I was finally going to see her after six long and endless years. As she got out of the car, she took in the surroundings and then stopped dead in her tracks: she had seen me. Our eyes locked for just a second. She frowned, then diverted her gaze and went straight to the front door without even greeting me. I followed her with my eyes until she disappeared into the cabin, pulled in by Kit's cozy hug.

I can't remember for how long I had been out there for I was too shocked to even remember where I was or who I was. Bette totally, completely avoided me. I shouldn't have been so shocked, after all, I couldn't blame her. Still, the pain was unsustainable. Leaning against the cabin walls, trying to steady myself, for my legs were too weak, I slowly made my way back in. I opened the door and, as an intruder, stepped in. Everyone was around Bette, telling her how they missed her; laughing, hugging and saying some joke every now and then. It was as if I wasn't even there. I felt like a stranger. I caught a glimpse of Angie, hiding behind a door, she must have heard the cacophony coming from the living room... as she saw me entering the house, she immediately approached me and the room went still. The laughter, the voices were gone. Alice, Shane, Kit, Helena... every one of them was looking at us as though they were expecting some kind of magic phenomenon to happen. Then Bette turned around and I was, again, met by the cold gaze I saw some minutes before outside. Her eyes lingered on me, then she looked at Angelica. I felt my heart skip a beat when she showed no emotion. Not one single emotion. I instinctively pulled an arm around my daughter's shoulders as I sensed she was getting kind of afraid. Bette's gaze went back to me and in a mocking voice she said: "Oh, right, you're here as well. Hi, Tina" and turned back to our friends. And now I understood what Kit's 'she's okay with you being here' meant: you aren't here as far as she's concerned.