She looked in the mirror, was that really her, the bags under her eyes made her seem tired, and were those wrinkles or laugh lines, she couldn’t even remember anymore. Perhaps it was the past six months, perhaps it was the past three years really, that made her think that she looked much older than her twenty-seven years should have indicated. Get your self together she said, wiping the mascara stuck in those lines, and smiled, trying to convince herself that if she could smile she had to be fine.
Stephanie took a deep breath and went to take her place back on her porch, her little safe haven. She lit a cigarette and inhaled the menthol, thinking about the events that recently transpired. If only I’d known sooner she thought out loud to no one in particular. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this fucking predicament.
It all started three years ago with cute boy, that’s what she called him to her family, refusing to tell them his name until he asked her out. She would always show up to class a little late, making sure she could survey the room and sit in the open seat next to him, which for some reason was always open, almost like a sign that they were meant to meet. They never actually talked to each other, him probably too nervous and her thinking that she wanted nothing to do with the male gender after her last relationship. When he finally asked her out, it was a whirlwind, she fell for him far faster than she wanted to allow herself, and he was nothing short of perfect. Soon they were in medical school down the street from each other and they were inseparable, two halves of a very strange whole, that melded into what they both thought was a fairytale romance. She laughed out loud thinking about it now, they were so blissfully ignorant to what was coming, although knowing how different they were how could they not have seen it. She put the butt of her newfound habit out in the same spot as always and went back to daydreaming.
He was from California, well Russia originally, and it was as though someone bottled the west coast up, and out popped Eugene. He had blue eyes and dark hair, a quality that still makes her weak in the knees to even think about. Not too tall, but tall enough to make her five foot seven dancer frame feel safe. And his hands enveloped hers when she held them, she would hold them even when they went to sleep, just to be sure of him, she would always tell him. He’d always laugh at that, but hold them anyway, perhaps because in some way he wanted to be sure of her too. And although never important before him, his body looked like an Abercrombie model, with muscles that glistened when he got out of the shower and drove her wild. Quiet with everyone but her, they shared secrets that she never imagined telling anyone. And the two of them giggled like schoolgirls, with the type of PDA that would make other people want to walk out of a room. Who cares Stephanie thought, happiness like that should be contagious.
When she got off the plane to meet his family after over a year of dating (she’d secretly been too scared to do it before), she smoothed her hair, re-applied her lip-gloss and scanned the airport, desperate to see him after only a week apart. She’d prepared for this trip for what seemed like months, working out everyday and planning each outfit with such care, making sure to fit the part just right. She even tried to learn a few Russian words and Eugene would make fun of her Italianized version, but loving that she tried so hard. When she finally saw what she thought was him, he was hidden behind a giant bouquet of Gerber daisies, her favorite. Forgetting that she wanted to be presentable she ran over and leapt into his arms, probably flashing half of SFO her underwear, which she also coordinated with each outfit.
The drive to his parents was shorter than she’d anticipated so when they pulled up to his house, his enormous beautiful house, she panicked. What if they don’t like me she thought, amid a silent freak out, Eugene leaned over and kissed her forehead and told her they would love her. He somehow always knew what she was thinking, even if she did wear her feelings on her face 99.9% of the time. She smiled and stepped out of the car after a quick check in the mirror, just to make sure. Eugene’s parents greeted her with the most welcoming of hugs, having the same calming effect he did, must be genetic she thought at the time.
The trip was a dream, traveling up and down the coast; from Disneyland to Napa everything was perfect, just as she anticipated. When she left two weeks later to go straight to Africa she cried like a baby and no longer cared if her mascara was messed up or her hair got tumbled around. When she got home she called him immediately, do they like me, do your friends like me, do you still like me. Laughing he told her he loved her and so did everyone else, and stayed on the phone with her as she packed, crying again about how long two months would be.
The next year or so came and went, they broke up and got back together (twice) but never managed to last more than a week without calling the other to apologize, and things would go back to their fairytale. Stephanie once again wiped the tears from her eyes, maybe if we didn’t break up, maybe if he didn’t say whatever he said to his family, maybe, maybe, maybe. The words haunted her, probably more than they should considering she hadn’t even seen him in two months, but that was who she was, hopeless romantic until the bitter end, and to her it wasn’t the end quite yet.
She lit another cigarette and continued reliving their story, or at this point the more accurate word would be demise. Six months ago, six months ago I was so happy she said out loud again shaking her head. When he told her that his parents wouldn’t let them get married she tried to stay calm. Why hadn’t they said anything she screamed, letting the calm go out the window. How could they just not tell him, she sent them holiday presents and cards and he loves her, how could they just not tell him until after almost three years of dating. He told her he would fight for her, that he wasn’t giving up yet, that he wanted to marry her and have a family with her, love her until her hair went grey and her dancer body faded to that of a busy mom. She believed him, and as the months went by and they fought over stupid things, she genuinely attributed to his arguing with her, Olga. Even saying her name in her head made her heart ache.
When she moved in she thought it would get better, and despite the fighting, her love for him was just as strong as it had been the years before, probably more so since she knew what he was going through for her. Then that fight, that stupid fight! Why didn’t she just keep her big mouth shut, no she had to bring it up again. Soon he was saying it wasn’t going to work and she remembers how pathetic she was. She begged him to keep trying that she was worth it. Asking to call his mom, that maybe she could come visit for a weekend show her that she was loveable, and that her good intentions were just that, and perhaps most importantly she loved Eugene more than herself. When she spoke with her, it was as if she broke up with her for him, he didn’t even have to say anything after that. She knew it was over. They held each other for what seemed like hours, reminiscing about the things they’d done over the years, telling each other what they would miss about the other, crying and laughing and trying to delay the inevitable.
When she left the next morning, after one more night of holding hands and begging him to keep fighting, she left. As she walked away she looked back at him, and as composed as possible, told him to call her if he decided she was worth it. That was the last time she saw him.
Sitting on the porch she started to bawl, two months, two months and he hadn’t called. She knew he was gone, but hadn’t quite let go yet. Through her sobs she lit one last cigarette, she’d be done crying after that. She imagined him showing up late at night with a boom box playing her favorite song, and she would leap into his arms the same way she had on that fateful trip years ago. Maybe tomorrow she said, maybe tomorrow as she pulled herself together, tried again to smile and walked inside to brush her teeth, Eugene would never approve of her smoking.
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