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Not even once | The Daily Leaf


Not even once

Wednesday, October 1st, 2008 @ 1:37 am | Audio, Blog, Story

Lying on my living room floor with a short glass of Cognac, the spinning shadow of a ceiling fan intensified by city lights coming in through the window, oblivious to the ashes of the hot cigarette falling on my face…

I was drawn in by the illuminated wisps of smoke, the way it slithered through the calm air, its erotic motions melting away the last of my cares. The only thing I can think about now is the way she moved her waist as she balanced herself on my lap, as if by instinct, like a bellydancer on ecstasy.

I pop another pill in my mouth, trying to wipe clean the thoughts that had been following me all night.

She never looked as great as she did now, with her brains splattered against my kitchen wall. The hole in her head was still steaming.

I sat at the table, admiring the tear stains on her face. Even now, with her hands wrapped around the trigger of a gun, and all her pains illustrated by half empty bottles of xanax and hydrocodone, there was a trace of a smile permanently etched on her face.

That smile. That seductive smile…

“Jennifer, why didn’t you wait…”, my pleas drowned out by my own tears.


Midnight text message: ‘Jenn:”You’ll be alright without me”‘

I knew something was wrong when she didn’t show at the ‘Five and Eight’. Half my night had been spent watching ice melt a Long Island into a watery mess, and I commissioned myself to get drunk without her.

It was typical of her to do these things to me, call me out on dates and binge drinking fests, and put off her arrival until she knew I was good and trashed. Or, as was the case tonight, she wouldn’t show or answer her phone for days.


I think she was cheating on me, I guess I’ll never know now.

I always told myself she was hiding something behind her fake plastic smile, but I never thought… this…

I did not race home, instead I called up Mari for bar hopping. 200 dollars worth of inebriation later, we were rolling around in sweaty fits of rage. I’m not ashamed to admit it either, when someone constantly abandons plans with me, I tend to believe they’ve lost interest in me.

Mari was great for these things, but refused to consider herself “Relationship material”.

I had made that walk of shame home many times before, and tonight was no different.

There’s still a sweet scent in the air, Jenn had been dressed up ready to go out, putting on that seductive bergamot that pulled me with every inhale. But there is no love at the end of that rainbow tonight, only cold sharp silence.

More pills, more drinking, more silence. Cold silence. There’s too much going through my head to feel anything, there’s too much alcohol and medicine flowing through my blood for the headaches to come on right now. Ah there it is, the loneliness sets in.

I am too numb to call for someone, it’s not like there’s a point, there’s no helping her now. Is that why I feel this way?

I pop the last of the painkillers into my mouth, finish off the bottle, and close my eyes with a cigarette in my hand. Who will find us, what will they think? A drug addict dead on the floor, the former image of a beautiful girl laid out in bits of skull on the wall, love letters strewn about the apartment like propaganda notes dropped on a war-ridden city. What will they think…



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