Call Your Girlfriend

Part 9: In Which Helen Feels Nothing

I forced myself to get out of bed today.

I forced my body into work clothes.

I forced myself to leave my house

And

I forced myself to go to work with a smile on my face.

Walking into the Dam, I say good morning to the normal janitors and maintenance men and women working the floor and grounds. I'm heading towards the elevator when I hear him. Fuck off.

"Dr. Helen Sharpe!" He comes ups to me and I try to pull myself together and pretend he's not crushing me into tinier bits of sad nothingness. I give him my fake smile, but my eyes have no shimmer behind them.

"Good morning, Dr. Goodwin. Have a good weekend?" I ask and he falters a bit. He hands me a coffee- even though I bloody don't want one. Not from him.

"For the most part...yes. I had a wonderful weekend. Until my friend and I got in a fight. I'm just trying to fix it now." He has a sad smile on his face. It hurts me. Last time I gave Max up- it nearly broke him. I pray that doesn't this time...even if he broke my heart.

"Are you sure it was a fight? Or was it a moment of clarity? Because some times- when we think it's a fight- it's actually just someone telling you the truth and moving on from everything so that a real fight doesn't ensue." I start walking and he slowly follows. I wasn't fighting with him yesterday. I was telling him how it was and how it will be.

"You're probably right. But that doesn't change the fact that I didn't get to tell them how I felt or what I thought."

"Let me ask you this- did you try and think about how your friend felt before you and them had this little monologue. Did you consider how the before hand of all it felt or came off to them. All the little things?" He's quiet as we wait for the elevator. We get in and there's one other person in there. I smile and they smile back. "How are you this morning?"

"Oh I'm good, Dr. Sharpe. How about you?"

"Pretty well, thank you for asking. Have a good day." She gets out on the third floor and we continue up to the fifth. We get out and head to my office. I get in, set my stuff down- prepare my work and he just stands there next to the closed door.

"Helen..."

I start my laptop up and open my folders for the day.

"Max, whatever you have to say, I'm sure will be charming and well thought out- but please, do me the favor and spare me....today at least. I just want to focus on my work right now and..." I look up at him and he seems broken. "I know...alright I know."

He just looks at me, eyes seeming glassy and gray.

"I know you're scared that I'll leave you again. That I'll just pack up and go fundraising or move or whatever...I know you're scared. I thought about- to be honest. I thought of just heading out again." He seems crushed and fragile. He leans against the door frame looking for some kind of support. "But I know how much that would crush you...and even though I'm hurting and I'm upset- I won't leave Max. I promise. I'll stay here for your sanity. For your health...but I really need some space. I'm here for you if you need me...but I want space. Please...when I find some kind of stability- I'll listen to you. I'll hear what you have to say- but not right now. Not right now."

He looks down and I see all of him just crumbling. From head to toe, he's dissolving piece by piece.

"Max, look at me." He looks up, surprisingly. I walk over to him and stand for a few moments- looking into his eyes. I see every ounce of guilt and shame and sadness written on his face. "I'm not leaving. I promise. I need you buck up and put a smile on when you leave my office. Fake it until you make it. I need you to do that."