Nothing You've Come To Expect - Alex Turner

7. i'm leaning in to kiss the past goodbye

Sunday
I woke up in the middle of the night to the lamp turning on. I don't remember covering myself with a blanket; Alex's embrace was all I needed. He must have put it on me.
I saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, smoking, his elbows on his knees, his head down. I crawled next to him, wrapping the blanket around me.

"Sorry Anna, did I wake you up?"
"That's ok. Can't sleep?"
"Mmh-mmh." He shook his head.
"How come?"
"Bad thoughts...tormenting me."
"I'm sorry. Are you ok?" I asked, stroking his arm.
"Eh." He gave a single wave with his hand.
"I'm here if you want to talk...or if you don't want to. Either way."
"You're sweet. Thank you." His smile was sad.

He inhaled some nicotine, blew the smoke out and and opened his mouth to speak, but his face cringed. "I-...it's stupid."
I shrugged. "I won't judge."
"I woke up, with you there, lying next to me and for a split second I thought you were her. Not that I wish you were her, mind me. But it brought back stuff."
"You are still in love with her." I said without thinking. It was a mix of a question and a statement.

He reflected about that for a bit. "Honestly....I'm not sure. I still have feelings for her, I think, but maybe it's more like...nostalgia? Guilt. I don't know...Why am I even telling you this shit? I'm sorry."
"It's ok. I'm a good listener, take advantage of it."
He huffed, head down. "I fucked up. Things were already going to shit, but I gave the final blow, didn't I. I'm such a dickhead." He was talking to himself at that point, looking down at his hands.
I don't know what he was talking about. I have no idea what happened between them. Did I want to know? Of course, but he was having a bad moment right there and then. I didn't want to snoop.

"Maybe there's a chance you will get back together. Maybe it's not over."
I don't know why I said that. Self-sabotage, perhaps. I've done that crap before. Or maybe I was checking the status quo, making sure the road was clear for me, with no "surprises" ahead. But I think I just hated that he was hurting. It was breaking my heart seeing him so upset.
A very cynical laugh escaped his mounth. "She buried me."
"Huh?"
He sat up straight and showed me the tattoo with her name on his arm. I noticed it before but I didn't feel like saying anything about it, not yet.
"She put a grave on hers. It says 'RIP', too. Like, she literally buried me, I'm dead." He scoffed at his own words. I saw some sparkles in his eyes, definitely not of joy.
"Wow, that is a very odd reaction."
"I'd say. Odd, but very eloquent, eh?"

He went quiet. I watched him take a long drag from his cigarette and pull back his hair from his face, then rubbing the back of his neck as to relieve it from stress.
"Listen," I moved closer and I stroked his back and shoulders, for comfort. "I don't know what happened, but I have a feeling that whatever that 'last blow' was, it was something you didn't mean to happen. Otherwise you wouldn't be beating yourself up like that. Am I wrong?"
"No. That is correct."
"So that means it was a mistake. Don't you always say you're only human? Humans are bound to make mistakes, you know."
"Right."
"Plus, you said things were already not good; the odds are that it would have ended anyway."
He sighed. "Yeah. But maybe not in such a hideous way."

That sad face. It was killing me.
I took his hand in mine. "I'm sorry...maybe I shouldn't have stayed...we shouldn't have-"
"Oh no, no, no." He interrupted me, putting an arm around me, pulling me closer. "you're the silver lining in all this."
I rested my head on his shoulder and he kissed my forehead, tenderly.
"I needed fresh air." he continued.
"What do you mean?"
"It's like when you've been tucked in, sick, for a few days, and you finally go out and it's sunny and you take a big breath in. That's where I am at. You're my fresh air."
Same for me. Except for me it feels like being on the top of a high ass mountain and the air is so chilly and pure in my lungs that it makes me dizzy.

He then smashed his cigarette butt in the ashtray and lie down with an arm under his head. He raised the other one a little, inviting me to his embrace.
I curled next to him, using his shoulder as a pillow, and I observed him looking at the ceiling back and forth, deep in thought.
Until his eyes came down on mine. "Nahhh."
"Nah what?"
"I'm not in love with her anymore. I was, I lost her and I missed her. It's been months of misery. Now I'm too busy being yours."
Yours?!
"Mine?"
"Yeah, baby. What about you? Are you mine?"
"Of course I am, you dummy."
I squeezed him tightly and kissed him slow.
I wondered what I was for him. A rebound? A phase? Someome to fill the void of loneliness? And to have some fun with? Or something deeper? A partner? A match? A soulmate?
I don't know. Too early to say. At least now we established that we're exclusive. For the time being I'll just enjoy laying in his arms. I was in heaven; he seemed happy and genuinely affectionate.
Win-win. For now.