Jon Evans - Dark Places

I don't know how long it had been since I had last cried. Ten years at least. Maybe more. I thought I had forgotten how. But I broke into wracking sobs, clutched at my head and cried like a baby, loudly, sobbing and shaking and sniveling as if it was the only thing I knew how to do. After a moment Talena was next to me, her arms around me, lifting my head onto her shoulder, whispering soothing words into my ear. I cried for a long time. I felt inexplicably and terribly sad but somehow relieved. As if I was releasing something awful that had been pent up inside me for years and grown toxic.

When I was finally finished my face and Talena's shoulder were soaked with my tears and snot. I sank back into the couch, exhausted, and looked up at her.

"I think I'm done," I said, banally, and nasally.

"Okay," she said gently, producing a package of tissues from her purse, which she used to wipe my face and then her shoulder relatively clean. I didn't move. I felt utterly humiliated, but somehow that was okay. As if I knew I had finally hit bottom, and at least there was nowhere deeper to sink.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go to bed."

"Let's?" I didn't think I had heard her correctly.

"You shouldn't sleep alone tonight," she said. "Come on." She led me to my bed and under the covers. We kept our clothes on. We held each other, at first tentatively, and then as if we had always been together. She was very warm.

"It's going to be okay," she whispered in my ear. "Everything will be okay."

At some point during the night we both stripped down to our underwear, it was too warm to keep our clothes on, but we didn't kiss, didn't touch except to hold one another. Once she murmured in her sleep, something anxious, in a harsh foreign language, and I held her tighter, and she woke up and her eyes opened and she smiled to see me there.

When I woke up she was gone from the bed and I was afraid she had left, but she was only in the kitchen, making coffee. She was fully dressed and she smiled at me in my boxers and told me to take a shower. When I came out of the shower she had toast and coffee ready and we ate it on the couch, watching TV, sitting at opposite ends but with our legs overlapping in the middle.

"I should go," she said eventually. "I have to get to work."

"All right," I said, following her to the door. "I'll call you tonight."

"Call me today. Tonight you can buy me dinner."

At the door she kissed me. Our first kiss. It went on for a long time. I saw stars.

"I'll see you soon," she whispered, breathless.

"Not soon enough," I whispered back.

I watched her walk down the stairs and disappear into the San Francisco fog. After a little while I decided to go for a walk myself. I always liked the fog. It makes the whole world seem beautiful and mysterious. And that's what we all really want, isn't it?

Beauty and mystery. And somebody to share them with.