When It Rains: The Umbrella Collection (3 page)

“Alright, for now,” she said and I knew she would make me spill my guts eventually.
  “So, have you heard from Lauren today?” she asked to change the subject. 

“Nah, I haven’t talked to her in a week or so,” I said with a hint of anger.

Lauren has been a friend of mine for a few years and I don’t know how our friendship has survived.  I question our friendship quite regularly.  She is one of those friends that you have to watch your back with.  Whenever there is a bus heading our way she is very quick at throwing me under it.  I am also eagerly waiting for the pain to rise from the knife she has injected into my back.  Why are we friends, you ask.  I’m not entirely sure.  There have been some good times hanging out and times when I felt depressed and she was there for me.  But, when I’m feeling good that is typically when the kindness gets swept away and inserted into its absence is her bitchiness.  My philosophy is that she likes it when I am down because she is superior. In that mindset, I am easily controlled and manipulated.  Her belittlement and opinions are broadcasted without a retort or battle from me, even when I feel she is wrong.  

“Neither have I.
  Huh, that’s weird.”

“What’s weird about it?
  She’s got a new boyfriend, what’s his name again?” I asked

A few seconds passed as we searched our memory for his name.
  Lauren has a new boyfriend every week, so we get confused sometimes.

“Frank!” We both yelled at the same time pointing our greasy fingers at each other.

“No, I heard they broke up.  So, I guess there’s a newbie in town.”

“How are things with you and Scott?”
  I asked Skylar.

She unknowingly smiled, her green eyes got brighter and she tilted her head blissfully to the side.
  “He’s in Hawaii right now for the charity he has worked with.  He sent me a few pictures with the kids and him playing on the beach.  It was the cutest thing I have ever seen.”

Scott and Skylar have been dating for a few months now and I’ll put money down that they are married by this time next year.
  They are that disgustingly perfect couple that annoy you because they fit so well together, without the disgusting part, or course.

“Have you heard from Adam?” Skylar asked.
  I knew this question was coming, but I was dreading every word of it.

“Nope.”

Adam is this guy who is playing me for the fool that I am.  We met through a mutual friend and it was during a time where I was feeling depressed.  I longed for a companion and a family, but who would have wanted me at that point?  Then, Adam said that he did.  He promised me the world along with everything that I dearly wanted and it was good for a couple of weeks and then he dropped me.  He was calling me all the time and coming to see me and then it stopped, only receiving a seldom text message now and then.  I swear up and down I’m done with him and then he appears at my front door and I melt to a pile of mush and surrender.    

“He’s a piece of shit anyway.
  You can do so much better,” Skylar insisted.

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for ‘better’ to appear and yet here I am still alone.
  I should just take what I can get,” I said as I took a bite of my pizza and rested my head on the cabinet behind me.

“Oh, t
hat’s a good philosophy to have.  Are you settling for those ‘Hey’ text message every other week?”

I chuckled a bit because it did sound ridiculous, “No, I’m not.
  I don’t know what I see in him.”

Skylar then went into a rant about how he sucked as a person and how he takes advantage of everyone he comes in contact with.
  They didn’t get along from the get go.  She thought he was a conceited selfish asshole and he found her to be a bitch.  She didn’t see the appeal in his personality or his appearance, “You deal with all his crap and he isn’t even good looking.”

 
“Oh, come on.  He is cute.  He has nice eyes and a cute smile and the way he looks at me when I talk as if I’m the only one around.”

“Yup, I don’t see it.
  Plus, he sleeps in his tighty-whities.”

My head spun towards her in shock because I didn’t remember telling her that bit of information. A second later we both burst out in laughter.
  The vision of his little butt in nothing but the underwear was a hilarious sight. 

“You’re right.
  Tighty-Whities should just be banned. He isn’t all that great.  He is nothing that I want in a guy anyway.”

“What do you want?”

“Well, he has to be cute.  Physical attraction is a must,” I began as I looked up to the ceiling envisioning my perfect man and ignoring that my appearance at that moment wasn’t very appealing. “Not cute like Adam, cuter.  He has to have a sense of humor.  I want to laugh the rest of my life.  He has to tell the truth in everything.  No lying or cheating and all that crap.  He has to get along with my family, if he doesn’t it will never work.  He has to be open-minded and not judge people.  I do enough of that for the both of us.  He has to want to do things because I can very easily stay in the house for eternity.  So, if he could drag me out of bed that would be a plus or he could lay with me the times that I don’t let him.  He must be understanding, especially with my head shit and be strong enough to put up with me.”

“Is Adam any of those?”

“Well, he never ever made me laugh or even smirk.  He has lied and cheated on me numerous times.  He has never spoken to Pops, even though he has been here countless times.  He is the most closed-minded, one-dimensional boy I have ever met.  I’m sure the moment he found out about my problems, he would run for the hills.  So, no, he is not,” I responded.  “Good point, Skylar, good point.”

“Yeah, I know.
  I’m good at this,” she said arrogantly, but in a joking matter.  “Let’s call Lauren and see what she is up to,” she said and picked up her phone to search for her number.  A few moments later she gasped and pulled the phone away, “Ew, she sent me to voicemail!”

“I hate when a new guy comes along.
  We no longer exist in her new life.  Then, they break up and the calls begin and we are alive again.  I really have to learn not to answer the phone.”

“You do a pretty good job of that already.”

“Very true, but maybe we shouldn’t let her off so easily this time,” I said.  I hopped down from the counter to grab another slice, “Who am I kidding?  I’ll pick up the phone.  You want another slice?”

“Since when do we eat just one?”

Just then, Skylar’s phone indicated she had a new text message and then my phone did the same.  Skylar read hers aloud, “Sorry, I’m with Frank.  Talk to you later.”

“Frank?
  I thought they broke up,” I said.

I peered down at my phone and noticed it was a message from Adam, “Hey” I read so Skylar could hear.

We looked at each other and said in unison, “Surprise, surprise.” with disgust in our tone.  I fought the urge to text him back.  My instinct was to write something back to tell him off, but that quickly faded as I daydreamed of him being here with me. 

“Give me your phone
.  You are NOT texting him back.”

“Why is it that we can read each other minds?”

“We spend way too much time together.”

“Haha, Yeah.”

We both put down our phones and I handed her a slice then hopped back up on the counter.  We sat in silence as we devoured our food.  She is probably the only friend that I am able to sit in quiet with.  Everyone else feels the need to fill in the emptiness which in turn makes me feel like I have to do the same.  A friendship or relationship should be strong enough to withstand silence.  It is those moments where your bond becomes thicker because it has erased the nonsense.  During that time, my mind went into a spiral of thoughts consisting of why I feel the way I do and about life. 

“What do you suppose is the meaning of life?”

“Oh uh, are you getting all philosophical on me?”

“No, I’m serious,” I said with a laugh, “There is so much shit in life.
  There has to be a reason that it is happening.”

“Maybe life is just life and there is no meaning.
  There is reasoning behind the way that you feel and things that you do, but not in actual life.”

“I don’t know,”
 my mind flipped its switch and another topic entered, “Oh my god.  Did you see General Hospital yesterday?  Did you see what happened to Sunny?”

“Yes! I was so shocked.
  I wonder how they are going to carry out that storyline though.  Not much you can do with someone falling off a bridge.”

“Hello!
  It’s a soap opera.  He will be alive and well next week,” I said as I rolled my eyes and hopped off the counter for the last time and Skylar followed suit. 

“I have the worst pain in the side of my stomach.
  Have no clue what it is.  I Googled it, but according to them I, either pulled a muscle or I’m dying,” Skylar said has she put her hand to the area where it hurt.

“It’s the pulled muscle option.” I tried to take the ‘dying’ part out of the equation.
  I threw my paper towel away while she washed her hands in the sink.  “You know, the wide ranges of topics in our conversations are quite phenomenal.” Giggles exited both of our bodies and we both shook our head in agreement.  My body felt lighter and the heaviness of my thoughts succumbed to the lightheartedness of laughter.  These are the moments that my body craves.  A second of peace.

3

The Voice

   
I talk to myself in loud boisterous tones one second and low mumbles the next trying to hide my true feelings from myself.  There are times where I imagine someone sitting across from me arguing, debating or giving me advice.  Other times I have two voices going at once, myself and someone else who is agreeing or opposing my points of view.  They can vary from deep intellectual conversations, a long drawn out fight or a confessional.  Those fights are comprised of good and evil.  They both live among the negativity of my mind with each trying to conquer the territory.  I don’t mind the subtle muttering under my breath; I find that I get something out of them. It’s the other that drives me to the edge of insanity. And that’s where I am at now; teetering at the edge with my arms flailing around trying to find the happy medium in my balance. 

A few months after my parents passed I had the first major breakdown that I can remember.
  Pops recounts differently.  He has said that there was a few times back when I was much younger where I would throw fits and not just your typical temper tantrum.  He felt, along with Mom, that my cries were deeper and more painful than other kids.  I would throw myself on the floor and instead of kicking and screaming; I curled in a ball and gut-wrenchingly sobbed. 

I do remember get
ting into mental funks even way back when.  They stuck with me for days on end.  Even my Barbie’s suffered.  During those times, Barbie and Ken’s lives would be just as depressing.  One story line that I made them play out was when Barbie refused to get out of bed and Ken was yelling at her to just get up.  Barbie would have none of that and screamed back at him, and slammed the imaginary door shut once he walked through it after he left.  Barbie ended up crying herself to sleep.   

Now, I was sitting on the edge of my bed, Indian-style with my elbows on my thighs and hands cupping my face, after I had just tried to call Adam again.
  I haven’t talked to him in a week other than a random phone call at three in the morning asking me if I still loved him.  My answer was yes and a minute later he hung up.

“Shut up,”
 I mumbled out loud

“No, stupid.
  You shut up the fuck up.   It’s not my fault you suck at living life,” I heard within my head. 

“I’m just going to ignore you.”

“Dumb shit, you can’t ignore me.  I’m with you wherever you go whispering in your ear and you can do nothing about it,” the
voice
said again with a deep evil tone to its words, words that felt like knives to my soul.  The
voice
isn’t very nice to me; actually, it is downright mean.  Always tries to push me down further than I already am.  The edge is where it likes to see me.  If I ever do fall over that edge the
voice
would be in paradise.  I only hear it on the days where my mind is a bit downtrodden and troubled.  At times, the loudness of it repels me to jump into bed and cover my head with a pillow.  “So, are you actually going to get up off your ass and do something or sit here and cry a river again?”

“Oh, my God
.  Leave me alone,” I exhaustively stated as I fell backwards on my bed searching for something to take my mind off of the
voice
that is rapping within my head.  I gazed up to the ceiling and saw a small spot of a slightly different tinge of paint.  My mind floated off into thoughts of wonderment in how that small spot got altered and in that moment my asinine thoughts drowned out the
voice
.