EVERYTHING IS REAL, NOTHING IS TRUE (Part 3 of 3)

She wakes you up two nights later, finally returning the countless voicemails you’ve left for her in the meantime. She wants to confirm the hotel you’re staying at and your room number. You had insisted on needing your sunglasses even though they could’ve been replaced for eight bucks at 7-Eleven. But you weren’t sure she’d come of her own volition, so you provided an excuse to see her one last time before you leave the city tomorrow; your last chance to be with someone who really understands you.

You step out of the shower feeling refreshed and truly clean, clear-headed and in control. You’re surprisingly pleased by the sight of your reflection. Marathon sleeping and binging on healthy food have brought back a more natural color to your skin, the bags under your eyes almost completely gone, your natural eye color perceptible.  

You’re not fully dressed when there’s a knock on the door. You check the peephole to make sure it’s not Mick brandishing a handgun. At this point, you realize how silly it is to have thoughts like these still, but your system isn’t entirely clean. Besides, if he was going to hurt you for messing around with his girlfriend, he would’ve done it by now. You open the door to a smiling and affectionate Chloe, embracing and kissing you before you have the door shut again.

“Mmm… you smell good,” she says, leaving traces of her lipstick on your chest. “I can’t stay long. I told him I’d only be gone for about fifteen minutes.”

You guide her out of the hall and into the main bedroom. She digs through her purse for something and pulls out your sunglasses with an ironic look.

“Thanks,” you reply with a knowing grin. She saw through your lame excuse.

You hug and kiss her some more, but you feel her restlessness. You look her in the eyes to figure out what she wants. She laughs in exasperation and lifts her dress up to reveal nothing on underneath. She takes your hand and guides it along her body as she reaches down and touches you underneath your underwear. You push her onto the bed, kissing and caressing her exposed body, but you don’t want to take it any further than this. You just want to hold her and keep her like this for the same reason you couldn’t do anything the last time you were together. Anything that has a beginning has an end.

You lie for what seems like not long enough. She cuts your bliss short when she realizes you’re not going to give her what she wants. She gets up and fixes her dress and hair, re-applying her lipstick. As you begin to protest, she reminds you that she’s in a hurry. “He’ll be waiting for me. Come on, get dressed and walk me to my car.”

The fog has rolled into the city for the night. You break out in goose pimples through your thin shirt. But your shivering provides another excuse to hold her tightly as you stand with her next to her car. She lights a cigarette and holds it up. “This is how long I can stay. Okay?”

“Okay,” you answer, happy to have these last few minutes with her.

“You never did tell me why you're leaving."

"I need to get away from all these hills for a little while.”

She gives you a quizzical look, as if you’ve delivered the punchline to some inside joke she wants to be in on, but is too polite to ask.

"Talking about changing my life doesn't seem to be getting me very far. I actually need to do something about it. This is the best solution."

"Change is scary."

"Life is scary. But I can't hide from it anymore."

She laughs, automatically prompting you to wonder if there's anything she takes seriously.

Her laugh isn’t any different than what you’ve heard from her before, but just beneath the surface, you hear something new. It’s an artificial sound, like she’s forcing herself to laugh. It’s not unlike the way she wears her makeup, to hide what is really there.

The realization that she isn’t quite real disturbs you, but you're able to contain it. Fearing her facade will crumble completely by virtue of knowing these few cracks exist, you choose to ignore them. The way she seems to feel about you and the way she makes you feel is real enough. This is how you want to remember her.

"You promise to keep in touch?" she asks.

"Yeah, of course.”

She’s finished her cigarette and stubs it out on the ground with her foot. She turns around and hugs you tightly and kisses you on the cheek. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," you say after returning her kiss.

"Promise me one more thing?"

"What's that?"

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"I will."

After a final hug, she gets into her car and waves to you with her arm out the window as she drives off.

Instead of going directly back to your room, you decide to go for a walk.

Taking these first few steps into the new reality you’re creating for yourself, you find you’re unable to shrug off the knowledge that nothing is true.