"Do you like pain? Then feel it to the core."
Those were the last words on that note she left in the counter.
At least she didn´t take away my cat. I didn´t really know whether she would come back or not. For all I know it was a Saturday morning.
She always did that; press my buttons and get on my nerves so badly. Lisa said that I could never live without pain, that it was a part of my existence. Well, this little number she did on me was not gonna help either.
But who said I was alone; I was surrounded by creative people just like me. We can listen to our thoughts and not spend our lives filling that void with pointless conversations.
It was hard not picturing her beside me; traces of her were practically all over the place especially in my bed.
She threathened to leave a long time ago and I never cared and now I was in complete shock.
The emptiness possessed me and it was suffocating. Not even the right music could bring relief now. My apartment used to be very welcoming and peaceful and now the tension grew; the sound of silence was piercing, disgusting.
I spent all afternoon working on my studio but it was impossible to concentrate. I was mad, vengeful so instead of making a ruckus I stepped outside to the terrace so I could come up with a plan.
But it didn´t happen; instead I binged on red wine until my body felt so light and relaxed and I sat on the ledge for a while. The air was cool and I was not properly dressed for the occassion.
I remember babbling something,
"Damn you, Queen of Hearts! Now you broke another."
And then someone heard me.
"You´re not going to jump, are you?"
"No," I said timidly.
"You must be Adrian, right? My name´s Edith."
I remember seeing her once or twice in the building; she was so abysmally different from Lisa; a blue-eyed, raven haired cutie with long legs;completely inoffensive.
"I´m sorry if I bothered you," she continued with an upbeat tone of voice.
"No, that´s alright; I´m having some trouble sleeping though," I said trying to make up some silly excuse to continue our conversation. "Besides, what are you doing out here at two in the morning?"
"I couldn´t sleep either," she said cheerfully. "I have this interview tomorrow and it´s really important to me."
"I hear you."
"How´s your girlfriend?"
"Um," I paused, "she doesn´t live here anymore." Then I laughed nervously, "I´m not even sure if I´m supposed to tell you that but it´s the honest truth."
Then she paused too and the uncomfortable silence took over.
"Well, it happens. I mean I didn´t know her that well to give you an honest opinion so I can´t say much."
"You don´t have to."
"Listen; my roomie won´t be back for a couple of hours, she´s away at this party and left me housesitting , sort of. I think I might have something that can help you sleep."
"Okay."
Edith lived on the fourth floor below me in a loft building down Mercer Street in the heart of Soho. It was still a great habitat for passionate folk like me though it wasn´t easy having a place like that. You had to be somebody and I was the right guy.
She took me into a smaller apartment she shared with a friend named Megan; some notable fashion designer who had lived there before Edith came along.
It was full of bookcases and such arranged with great care and sturdy wood furniture. She took me into the kitchen which was barely lit.
"Is it alright if I leave it this way?" she asked, "or do you want me to light up the place?"
"No, it´s ok, " I said. "So, if you don´t mind, what is it that you again."
"Oh, beg pardon," she said. Finally I was able to see her in full splendor; she wore a kind of orchid laced tanktop and terry cloth pajamas; nothing my ex would ever wear. Still, it wasn´t a big turn off.
"I majored in neuropsychology, " she said, "until a while ago Megan contacted me; we were close friends in college, otherwise I would have never been able to be here because of some weird law they have here."
"I´m aware of it."
"You look like you haven´t slept in a while." Edith took out from one of the cabinets a bottle of pills and handed some of them to me."
"Seriously , you don´t have to do this."
"Please do. I was also about to make myself some tea. What do you do with so much empty space? I mean I was always used to live in small houses."
"What do you mean by that; where did you grow up in?"
"Oh, here and there but most in Ann Arbor."
"Really? No shit! And you preferred to study here?"
"Honestly, I wanted to get away from my dad. He always saw the best in me..." Then she laughed, "Look at me; I´m sitting here in the darkness talking to a perfect stranger about my personal life and yet I know very little about you."
"I´m your neighbor and I´m well recognized artist. You know that mural in the lobby? I worked on it for several weeks."
"Yeah, I´ve seen it, here, " she said while she poured some green tea. "It´s really something else. I´m not much of a critic so don´t take my words too seriously."
"It´s abstract. It´s supposed to make you feel rather than think."
"Well, in that case it makes me feel powerful," she said. "Yeah like, whenever I come back home it gives me inner strength so I can overcome the perils of the big bad city."
"That´s not a bad critic at all!"
"You only say that to make me feel better!" she cried. "This was supposed to be about you and your breakup."
"I guess I feel better now knowing that I have an admirer of my work. Not that you´re the only one but one of the few I can actually speak to in the flesh and not some random internet follower."
"You can always come and talk with me now that she´s not around anymore," she said.
