Things Left Unsaid

It wasn’t until the sky was a murky pink that Astrid’s eyes finally opened. After hours of debating what to say, all I had was a headache and more confusion.

She opened her eyes, looked at me, and then dazedly glanced around. I watched the memories of the night crash over her as she settled back into her makeshift bed.

There was an almost unnerving silence as the pinks turned to blues.

“So… I’ve been trying to think about a response to what you said last night…”

Astrid gave me a confused look, but slowly the realization dawned on her.

“I have to go,” she scrambled for her things, but left me behind – confused and alone.

What the hell was that?

Without anywhere else to go, I laid back down in hopes that she’d return. I rolled over the different things I could have said.

“I love you too.”

The obvious option. Yet, it’d be a blatant lie. What was love? Was it really more than a word? Was it all that Astrid said it to be? I couldn’t possibly decipher the word, much less say it. It would be wrong and cause more problems. Hell, Astrid probably would have ran away without her flask; that’s how scary those words can be.

“Oh.”

A simple declaration of indifference. This would pose many more questions than answers, for both parties involved. Oh is a deadly word as much as a hopeful one. A slip of the tone and it sends one spiraling into a pit of wondering and waiting for the rest of the verbal punishment. Yet, oh can also be one of surprise and elation. So many words fill in the space of the simple sound but all of them are assumed.

“You’re drunk.”

This was undeniably true. However, saying it would make the whole situation seem like a joke. With the way Astrid ran off, I was fairly certain we both would have been left wondering if those three words were sincere.

 “Fuck you.”

Somewhere inside, an anger was boiling inside of me. All night I was waiting for her to wake up but dreading it all the same. I knew she’d leave or get pissed off. Astrid was wonderful when she was tipsy and things were progressing. But after the progression and alcohol wore off, she was impossible. She didn’t dwell on the past, she went on with life. She wasn’t one to contemplate, she just did. There was no way in hell she was going to stick around and discuss exactly what her confession meant. So, the fact that she decided to say those words angered me beyond belief. There she was, playing with my head and my feelings. She put worries and thoughts in my head just to twist them around and make me untangle the knots. In that sense, she was a conniving bitch and she deserved to be told to fuck off.

And of course, there was silence.

As much as my silence was killing me, it was probably the best option. By not saying anything, there were no false assumptions or misplaced answers. Instead, there was an absence of reaction. One that I could hopefully fill at a later date when all of my knotted thoughts are untangled.

Valentine's Day: Part II

I learned five things about Astrid that night.

First of all, Alcohol was her means of fixing silence and racing thoughts.

I half listened to the movie playing in the background and half focused on her hand in my own. Her fingers were terribly tiny and long: piano fingers. I wanted to ask if she played, but I knew better than to do so. Looking over, Astrid’s eyes were closed but she wasn’t asleep. Her face was pinched, as if she was fighting away the memories she wanted to leave behind. My mind traveled to her lips, and it was all I could do not to lean down and kiss her… The alcohol was pushing me to take a risk but the cold kept me sober enough to resist.
“It’s too quiet,” Astrid shot up and immediately grabbed for her flask that was flung aside.
Once she was safely tipsy, I found her intense hatred for romance.

“So, if it’s Valentine’s Day, or some special day, or whatever tonight is, shouldn’t there be some celebration besides champagne?”

Astrid looked at me, confused. “You mean like… gin? I already said I don’t like wine, we have vodka, and I’m sorry but I’m not into weed…”

“No! Like chocolate and flowers and candles and other unnecessary cliché items.”

“You were totally the kid who walked around on Valentine’s Day with a giant teddy bear from your boyfriend, weren’t you?”

I scoffed, refusing to answer with an obvious no.

“Your silence is a confirmation of that fact. But, those things are a waste of space. Why spend money on flowers? The smell terrible and die. Chocolate? That’s what you buy for a break up, not a romantic gesture. Candles? Well that’s just not feasible here.”

“Then how are we celebrating?”

She smiled, leading me to the third fact: Astrid is a bit of an exhibitionist.

"Like this,” she answered, taking my face in her hands.

Her lips tasted like peppermint chapstick doused in alcohol. Oddly, I didn’t mind it. Her kisses were fervent, as if she had no intentions of stopping; this was confirmed by her wondering hands.

“Um…” I pulled away and gestured toward the crowd of people… children… grandparents… preachers…

“Oh, like they care!”

I rolled my eyes and couldn’t help but fall back into her kiss.

When Astrid finally pulled away, I was met with the fourth fact: she was a very happy drunk.

“It really is turning out to be a wonderful kind of special night,” she said nestling onto my shoulder.

“Did you plan for this night to be special?”

“You can’t plan special. That’s why it’s, you know, special and all. But tonight seemed like a Valentine’s Day kind of night. You know, all lovey and gushy and that sort of shit. Maybe I was just influenced by the movie.”

“Astrid, you know this is a zombie movie, right?”

“Oh,” a champagne giggle bubbled up from her lips in an intoxicating manner. I leaned in once again and fell victim to her touch.

Perhaps I was a bit tipsy and a bit promiscuous. Regardless of my blood alcohol level, resisting Astrid was near impossible.

The final thing I learned that night came in the form of a confession.

People were filing out of the field as the end credits began to play. Astrid and I, however, didn’t budge. With a blink, I found the sun threatening to rise over the deserted field. Dead asleep, I kissed Astrid on the forehead. Slowly, she began to stir. Looking up at me with hazy eyes, she smiled in a way so pure and simple that it seemed we would be trapped in that moment for ages. I wouldn’t complain, though, I found something calming about the way we were strung together.

“I have to admit something…” her voice was tired but hopeful.

“Yes?”

“I think I might possibly love you,” she smiled that simple smile again, turned around, and fell back to sleep.

Valentine's Day: Pt. I

As the opening credits lit up the screen (basically, a sheet hung between two trees), Astrid came back from her popcorn trip with a bottle of champagne.

"I strongly doubt that’s popcorn. Or sold at the concession stand,” I noted as she took a sip.

“I have my sources for obtaining alcohol.”

“I’m beginning to see this,” I didn’t dare question. Some things were better left up to mystery.

“Have some,” she said passing me the bottle.

“Well isn’t this classy: two teenagers sitting at a walk-in drinking champagne from the bottle,” I downed a gulp, “By the way, why champagne?”

“Wine isn’t my thing. Plus, it’s a special night!”

“And why is that?”

Under the blue light of the movie, she smiled with something I couldn’t quite name.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, why of course!”

That something was obviously crazy.

"It’s nowhere near February, Astrid Dearest. I believe it’s time to take the alcohol away.”

“Why does it need to be February to celebrate love? And why can’t we drink champagne on some random night without a meaning! Days are special because we make them so. And tonight I deem special!” she toasted the night air with the bottle and drank.

Love…The word hung in the air, the four letters stretching and morphing into something much bigger than I could possibly pronounce, much less understand.

“What is love, even?”

Astrid sighed, taking in the question. She passed me the bottle with a sad smile and said, “A lie, but one that should be celebrated. What other lie has spread so far and wide and been accustomed by so many people? For some, it engulfs their lives and well-beings. Love is the embodiment of the power of lying. Something so great and powerful must be celebrated. It does, after all, make people happy for some time.”

“Right,” I swished the champagne in my mouth and let the alcohol fill the gaps and holes in my thoughts. As it slid down my throat with a slight burn, I found the holes bigger and more nagging than before.

“You asked me if I had ever been in love,” I said, oddly confident, “But you never said whether or not you were.”

“Buy into the lie? Sorry, I don’t conform.”

I kept my gaze focused on her, knowing her words weren’t true. Something in the unusual clarity of her voice and the way she was intently focused on her nails gave me reason to doubt.

“Once,” she admitted, “I guess. I was fifteen… it was stupid. It doesn’t even count. I mean, he obviously didn’t think that I was worth his time. You don’t forget people who are worth your time,” with shaking hands, she fumbled for her flask. When she pulled it out, she flung the metal container aside with a clunk and laid back. Even she knew alcohol couldn’t fix memories.

“I doubt he forgot you,” I said, lying next to her. The warmth of her fingers burned my own.

“He did. I saw him about a year after he stopped calling. I smiled and said his name. He looked right at me and asked who I was.”

Without thought, my fingers intertwined with hers. For a long while, we simply laid in the grass with the movie as background noise to our overwhelming thoughts.

The Walk In

A wonderful alcohol induced haze slipped over me as we stumbled out of the restaurant. "Where to now?”

“Now why would I tell you that? It’d ruin the surprise.”

I sighed and let Astrid lead me astray.

“Have you ever been to a drive-in?” she asked.

“Once or twice. Why?”

“Have you ever been to a small town drive-in?”

“Meaning?”

“You’ll see!”

Ten minutes later we were standing at the ticket booth for the drive-in. I use the term drive-in cautiously; it was more of a walk-in. Cars were parked down the street and a lawn was strewn with couples and families of all ages.

“Huh. Well this was unexpected.”

“It’s charming, isn’t it?”

“Well it’s hardly a drive-in… Will there actually be a movie or is it more of a meeting place for the locals?”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on watching a movie or meeting with anyone other than you,” Astrid winked. I’m pretty sure she was trying to flirt but the alcohol took away that ability.

“Hey there!” A few people I recognized as Renolds’ friends walked up to us, led by the lovely Sadie. I grimaced, really not wanting to associate with anyone.

“God…” Astrid grumbled, “If we don’t make eye contact, maybe they’ll ignore us.”

“Astrid! And… Florence, right?” Sadie grinned.

“Um… yeah. Florence.”

“Well aren’t you two just adorable! Is this a date?”

“Uh… well…” I stammered, waiting for Astrid to butt in.

“Not if you don’t want it to be,” Astrid winked at Sadie.

Biting my lip to keep from laughing, I noted to take away Astrid’s alcohol – she was a little too tipsy for her own good. Although, the look of confusion mixed with embarrassment on Sadie’s face made me want to see what Astrid would say if she was actually drunk.

“Just kidding! Okay, we’re going to go make out now. See ya, Bitch,” Astrid took my hand and we rushed off to a secluded corner, nestled in the crook of a picket fence.

“Um… okay. First question, what just happened?” I asked.

“I was messing with Sadie. It’s my favorite hobby.”

“You aren’t exactly friends, are you?”

“We have our ups and downs. I wouldn’t tell them my life story, but they’re nice to go out with every now and then.”

“So, I have to ask. What the hell is this? It’s nothing like any of the drive-ins I’ve seen in movies.”

“It’s our only form of entertainment after nine,” Astrid shrugged, making herself comfortable on the hard ground.