Loved - A Novel Page 8

  I love you. “Are you waking up slowly, nothing but lonely, are you waking up holding, holding your breath?”

  Chase

  Sept 30, 2002

  Kit - Hey there sugar pop. I’m so glad you called. I really am. I can’t wait to see you. I don’t care how many times I have to say that, I will always mean it. I went to the gym again today, but I should stop telling you I’m getting buff because you’re going to expect me to look like someone else, like 98 Degrees or something. I’m sorry, that’s not me. But I do love you, to the point where I wanna climb a mountain and tell the world, even if no one was listening, I would still be happy being able to say it.

  I like this, this thing where we have feelings for each other, but not like, you know? I dunno, I just love you, and I want you in the rest of my life. Can I keep you?

  Shine

  Seeing each other while I was home that fall would be a chance for us to decide what was still there after all of our back-and-forth and if it was enough to save. The pressure built higher and higher as we neared that anticipated week in October.

  I had plans to see Counting Crows play at The University of Pittsburgh, stay with Meredith and then drive to see Chase at his school. The concert was amazing; it was even better, probably, than when I had seen them in Nashville. The set was very dark and romantic with lights behind the backdrop that resembled stars in the night sky and giant candelabras on the stage. Adam Duritz sat at the piano or stood at center stage throwing his arms out emotionally as he sang, and I felt more alive than I had in a long, long time.

  I heard that the band would sometimes meet fans by their tour bus after shows so Meredith and I circled the arena on foot but we couldn’t see the bus. I knew it had to be close by. Then, we spotted an alley blocked off by wooden police barriers and a guard standing on watch.

  “Can we go back there?” we asked.

  He nodded.

  That was it. We were in. A few steps past the barrier, the bus came into view with a small crowd of people hanging out around it. There were maybe twenty or thirty people in the crowd and in the middle, a guy with spiky dreadlocks. My knees began to shake.

  I could not believe it. This man had been singing straight to my heart for months now. His words were my feelings. He had led me back to Chase when I had been lost. He spoke for my inner voice when I was silent. I had him to thank for teaching me how deep love could be and that no matter how lost it seems or far away it feels, love is worth it. How could I say that all to him in a moment?

  He signed my concert ticket and took a picture with me. Meredith was smiling ear to ear, knowing the importance of the moment she had just captured on my camera.

  I said, “You’re my hero and I like your coat.” It was brown with shearing trim.

  He said, “Thanks and I like yours too.” I was wearing a gold fur Betsey Johnson coat, one of my first real designer clothing items.

  When we got in the car, I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  The next day was Saturday. I drove to Chase’s college where I found him outside of his dorm building. He hugged me. We were both smiling ear to ear but we were hesitant with each other. It was like someone had handed us each a treasured object that we’d been coveting but that we were afraid might break.

  It drizzled all day and the brick buildings looked sad against the gray sky. Chase walked me around the campus introducing me to anyone he knew. “This is Kit, the love of my life.”

  I saw the school’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream that night. Chase played Lysander, one of the main roles. He had to kiss a girl twice, which was hard for me to watch but I was blown away by his acting. Shakespeare isn’t easy and he pulled it off with so much charm and so much life.

  That night, I showed Chase pictures from school. He loved a Polaroid of me taken at an art benefit in Nashville. The theme had been Moulin Rouge. My dress was black and red with spaghetti straps and a fishtail hemline, and my long blonde hair was wavy, the way he liked it. I wore smoky makeup on my eyes. He liked the picture so much that he wouldn’t let me take it home with me. I wrote on the back “Love, your Kitten. Purr.”

  We kissed each other until we were too tired to keep going. I could still feel him holding back. It was my penance for what I had done to him. All I could do was hope the walls would fall and that I could have all of him again, but I was always leaving and he was tired of watching me walk away. We both knew that I couldn’t stay and that he couldn’t come with me, but still, we couldn’t let go.

  It didn’t turn out like I’d expected. That love that had remained so strong and waiting under the surface was a mirage. Or maybe we had just done more damage that I’d realized. Once I was back in Nashville, Chase stopped calling or emailing very much, and when I did hear from him, he was extremely distant. I finally confronted him, asking what was going on.

  Oct 21, 2002 “Playing with Uranium”

  Truth? I don’t know how I feel. When you were here, it was good, but I realized that I’ve changed since we’ve been together. I don’t know what it is, but the spark really isn’t there for me any more. I’m sorry. I don’t know what that means, but I feel like I should say something. I don’t know what any of this means, but yet, I am seeing someone here. I’m sorry, Kit, I’m a dick, but you want the truth so I’m giving it to you. I dunno.

  Chase

  I love you.

  Push, pull, look away.

  Could I move on from Chase? I didn’t know. It was impossible to say, oh well, that’s that, and move on. Only time would tell if I really would be able to let go, and for the time being, seeing Ethan suited me fine. It was okay with me that we only hung out late at night and there was usually alcohol involved. Even in the day, even sober, we were cloaked in desire. We didn’t tell the guys about us and we were never affectionate in front of them but they all knew it. We had this chemistry that set the air on fire between us. He would look at me from across the room and everyone could feel the heat.

  I suspected that he was dating other girls when he would come home late to find me drinking with our friends, his friends. He wouldn’t mention where he’d been but he would give me a look that said don’t leave, and I would stay until everyone else had gone and he would take my hand and lead me back to his bedroom.

  I didn’t want another boyfriend who wasn’t Chase but I wanted love, and I really wanted Ethan. I knew how to enjoy every moment with him; the soft curls of his hair, the darkness in his room, the heat of the alcohol in my blood, his lips on my throat and the pulse of the music on the stereo. Bat your eyes girl, be otherworldly. Count your blessings. Seduce a stranger. What’s so wrong with being happy…? An Incubus song played while I fell asleep in Ethan’s arms.

  Incubus had played in Nashville the week before. I went with some of the girls from Betsey Johnson, where I had started working. True to form, I met the tour manager, talked with him about his job and explained that I wanted to be a tour manager too. We exchanged email addresses to keep in touch as I was still pursuing my dream, though I was beginning to forget why.

  One cold afternoon, I was slowly making my way home from class. It was dark, though it wasn’t even 5 o’clock. I was thinking about how much I hated the lifelessness of winter and that’s when my cell phone rang. It was a Westville number that I didn’t know.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi!” said a chirpy female voice.

  I was silent and I was filled with a sudden feeling of betrayal and my blood went as cold as their air. It was Crystal.

  “How are you? I ran into one of your friends from school and she gave me your number!”

  I made a mental note to find out who it was and scold her.

  “Hi. I’m good. Just headed home from class.”

  I didn’t know what to say. This was not someone I wanted back in my life, not now or ever. Even the sound of her voice from hundreds of miles away made me feel like an insignificant little girl, weak and naive. She told me about how she was racing horses in Ohio.
I listened and responded on command but I made no comments at all about my life. She couldn’t have even one piece of me anymore. I would not let her do more damage to me. I ended the conversation politely, knowing I’d never answer another call from that number.

  The affair with Ethan started to take a toll on me. He was certainly not the relationship kind and he was probably not the right guy for me, but I found myself wanting more. I wanted from him what I was not getting from Chase anymore. And though I knew Ethan wasn’t the answer, he gave me just enough attention that I couldn’t bring myself to walk away. I couldn’t start telling him no. He would have to stop asking the question. Until then, I was the girl who would drink all the liquor I was given and sit there in my bra in front of his friends while they drank and smoked pot. I sat there waiting for him to see me as more than I was and yet I was not willing to demand it. I was not willing to act like the girl I wanted them to see. If they were the jokes, I was the punch line.

  Sunday, December 8, 2002

  Want to know what college is like? My fridge is empty, my gas tank is empty, and my bank account is empty.

  I was empty inside, too.

  All my feelings went into my journal now and not into my letters. I was tired of being the one to give, give, give. I wasn’t getting anything in return. I believed in Chase, I believed in us, and I was willing to do what I needed to do to make it work. I just couldn’t keep saying the words when I knew they had no effect. So I just kept writing to myself.

  December 17, 2002

  Dear Chase,

  Tonight I was reading through emails you’ve sent me in the past. In so many of them you said how I made you happy. I made you want to face the day. I made you look forward to the rest of your life. Well, you don’t have me right now and I don’t think you have that feeling either. I don’t think you realize it’s missing. So my guess, more so my prayer is that soon you will know how that works and how madly in love with me you are. Then we can be together because that’s what I want more than anything. And I mean anything. If you said, “Kit, I can’t be so far away from you,” I would say, “PA, here I come!” Not kidding. I lost you once and I don’t intend to let it happen again. I love who you are. Every inch of your body and every dark corner of your mind. You fascinate me and I love you. I love the way you make me feel about me. With you I’m smart and beautiful and say (some) things worth saying. And I love the way you make me feel about the world. It’s at my fingertips when you’re at my side. I don’t fear the distance. I don’t even fear your uncertainty. We’re a tank. We’re more meant to be than Romeo and Juliet. (We get to live.) There’s no way God would let me feel like this if you weren’t going to come around. I’ll give this to you when you do. To say thanks and I believed in us all along. I love you. Kit.

  While I was writing love letters to him that I wouldn’t send, he was sending letters to me that were void of love. His mood was flat. I couldn’t decide if I was pleased that he wasn’t being hateful or if I was disappointed that he wasn’t being romantic. We were in purgatory, trapped between a heaven and a hell of our own making, waiting for something to change. Something, but who knew what? Certainly not us.

  December 19, 2003

  Hey there. How are things? I’m back at school. It’s going ok. I wish I had more to say. I wish inspiration would just come to me. It’s happened before when songs would just come to me, like I wrote it all at once. Now there’s just fragments and choruses. I don’t wanna write recycled songs. Oh well, things could be worse. It’s good to have you in my life. Know that. I don’t know what to say about romance or what’s gonna happen. But I do know that much.

  “I was in bed with a girl at the end of the world, and she said I’m going home...”

  me

  December 21, 2003

  Kit - Hello, how are you? I wanted to write. I dunno, I just felt like it. So, I dunno if you knew this but whatever was going on between me and Becca has been completely over for quite some time. She kinda just said it’s done, and I was like...O. Then I found out she and one of my friends hooked up when they were on a trip this week, and I was like, O. Whatever. Well, I guess that’s it. I’ll talk to you later.

  name

  And so I just kept writing to myself.

  My birthday that semester had been an evidence of my failures in creating meaningful relationships. I invited all my guy friends to my party as well as Anna and the girls from Betsey Johnson. I wore a red dress, a color I didn’t often wear because of its boldness. I chose Hamilton’s, my favorite Nashville restaurant, for dinner. It was warm for November so I sat on the screened patio under an outdoor heater and enjoyed the fresh air. I knew my server from frequenting the place. He brought me a French martini while I waited for my friends, even though I was only turning twenty.

  Anna had to babysit—she had told me a few days earlier—so I knew she wasn’t going to make it. She said we would do something special later. People were always late, it seemed, but when ten minutes had gone by I called Kyle to see where he and the guys were.

  “Oh, we’ll stop by later, where is it again?” I knew then that they wouldn’t show.

  I called Brittany but she didn’t answer.

  By then I didn’t even feel like calling any of the girls I worked with. I should have known they wouldn’t come. They were sweet but completely unreliable.

  Happy birthday to me.

  How did I get here, celebrating my birthday on my own? How had I managed to alienate everyone in my life, to isolate myself by choosing people who gave me only so much of themselves and to whom I gave only so much of myself? Was this a method of protection? Was I scared of being hurt? Was I afraid to keep hurting other people? All I knew for sure was that I was really, truly alone.

  January, 2003.

  I hadn’t seen much of Ethan after spring semester began and I found out why one afternoon when Kyle came to see me at my apartment. He acted like he was just stopping by, making small talk at first but when he managed to work into the conversation that Ethan was seeing someone, I knew that was why he had come over. Kyle was the unfortunate messenger.

  I wished I’d been able to walk away on my own strength but at least I finally had the push I needed to emotionally step away from Ethan. I turned some other things around that spring too. Chase emailed sometimes but it was always small talk about what shows he was doing or if he’d played at an open mic night lately. He stopped calling me Kit. I hated it but at least I wasn’t crying over him and I was sleeping in my own bed most of the time. I wasn’t drinking. I was studying, managing a band at school, writing a lot and getting a proper amount of sleep at night.

  I even found myself praying rather than avoiding the shame of my brokenness.

  Dear God, please set my watch to your time. Help me be patient and let you remain in control of my life. Thank you, Lord, for loving me and for sending your only son, Jesus Christ, to die to save us from our sins. You give me so much more than I deserve Lord and I praise you and love you and give you my life. Over and over again.

  God, remember how Chase used to completely adore me? He loved the way I breathed, he loved my hair, he loved it all. I want that again. I want someone to think I’m a dream. I think I deserve that. I’m like a split personality; I’m okay and so not okay at the same time. There’s a war in the Middle East and a war in my soul. I’d love for both to end peacefully and with minimal casualties.

  There were times when I thought of Chase more than others. Times when I would dream of him, feeling him lie next to me when I turned out the light, feeling his hand hold mine and feeling him kiss me. I’d been dreaming of our dream—our cool bare apartment. The dreams were peaceful, not desperate, not full of sadness. I still believed it could happen.

  I had left my white jacket at Ethan’s the last time I was over there. I wore that jacket often enough to miss it so I had to get it back. On the afternoon I dropped by to pick it up, I could hear music playing so loud that I had to pound on the door to get him to he
ar it. He opened the door and gave me that gigantic electric smile; it was the smile that he used when he wanted only one thing, the smile that made me trip over nothing trying to get out the door—if I even made it out the door at all.

  “Hey! To what do I owe this pleasure?” he greeted me.

  “Just stopping by to see if you had a jacket of mine here.”

  “Oh, sure! How are you?” He let me in the door past him. “You look great.”

  Suddenly I felt like I was in a wolf’s den. I had to get out before he could sink his teeth in to me.

  “I’m good thanks. Here it is! I gotta run but I’ll see you…” I didn’t want to say “soon.”

  “Cool, yeah, I’ll call you…” I was gone before he could finish, waved quickly from the sidewalk as I hurried toward home.

  Finally, jacket in hand, I had learned to make it out the door.

  May, 2003.

  I went to Las Vegas with Service Corps to work at the Academy of Country Music Awards and the related press events. During some downtime, I explored the city with Lacey, a girl I met on the trip. I had kind of a girl crush on her right away, from the first moment I saw her as I was jumping into the van that would take us from the airport to the hotel. She was beautiful, though I don’t think she knew it, and she was wearing the prettiest navy and cream skirt. I was in awe of her wardrobe throughout the whole trip and as I got to know her, I liked her a lot as a person too. Both of us were often quiet when we were in a group of students, but when left to our own devices, we had plenty to talk about. We started to become friends.