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On: A Relit Cigarette

Christina Kosch

    And you’ll get to his apartment and he will tell you to sit down and make yourself comfortable. And so you do, but not too comfortable because you are at his apartment and you’re vulnerable. He will offer you something to drink and you’ll say coffee, hoping he remembers your first date. You’ll immediately regret it because who wants to kiss a girl with coffee breath? So he will pour you a cup and fix it with cream and sugar even though he should know you like it black. It will sit there untouched.
    So you talk about things like family and work and you’ll tell him how proud you are of him for graduating college. He will make an awkward, uncomfortable smirk, spit out a “thank you” and you’ll know you’ve gone a little too far. You will be tiptoeing on the border of “mom” and “girlfriend” and you will need to remember that you hold neither of those titles.
    And after you run out of generic things to talk about, an eerie silence will fall on you both and you will wonder why you were even ecstatic to be here in the first place. So you’ll suggest a movie because the silence is unsettling. You will suggest a movie that isn’t too serious just in case your conversation blossoms. So you will decide on a piss poor horror film where you know the hot blonde is the only one that makes it to the end. You won’t get to the end though because your clothes will be on the floor about 23 minutes in. The skin to skin touch will fill the void that has been unfulfilled for far too long. About half way through, you’ll remember that this isn’t what you want. Sixteen year old you dreamt for this chance and here you will be— lips to shaft in front of a glowing tv screen. This isn’t what you came here for—you came for love, even when you knew you wouldn’t get it.
    So you will continue because now it feels too good to stop. And when you finally collapse on his chest, you’ll know. He will stretch his arms across the sheets instead of around your curves and you will wrap your arms around his neck.
    At this moment, you should be leaving.
    You will lay there for a few moments and he will suggest that maybe you should get back to that movie. You will want to just lie there and tell him that when you see someone with beady eyes, they remind you of the galaxies in his and that you think of him and the way that he played with your hair in that coffeeshop. You will finally mutter a measly “I miss you” and he will stop you dead in your tracks with “don’t do this to yourself”.
    So you’ll pull on your sweatshirt and shorts and stuff your bra in your bag because now you just want to cover yourself up as quickly as possible.
    He will tug on a pair of shorts and lean in the doorway and say that “this was fun” and that “you should do this, and only this, again sometime”. This will remind you of your ninth grade geometry teacher and the “if and only if” clauses. Who would’ve guessed your sad and destructive decisions would relate back to those?
    You should not do this again, ever.
    And so you will be leaning on the arm of the love seat devastated by the fact that he won’t love you the way you love him so you make the conscious effort to leave. You will grab your bag and your phone and he will be grabbing a beer from the fridge and you’ll turn around and hope to god that he is there, asking why you’re gathering your things to leave, but he will not.
    You really should have been gone by now.
    So as one final saving grace you will apologize to him for leaving so soon, giving him one last chance to beg you to stay and he will rattle off “that’s fine, don’t worry about it” and you will close the door and think about that untouched cup of coffee still sitting on the end table.

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