I tried and tried to find out what was going with Lisa, even stopping by her place to chat with her roomie (who also worked at our restaurant), but my searches were dead ends.
I hadn’t really opened up in that way, made myself vulnerable and weak, in almost half a year and it infuriated me how she took advantage of that. Not too long removed from the war, I could only perceive her actions in a military sense. She probed my defenses, broke inside, and then stole my secrets and snuck away.
I never did learn what happened those four days but Lisa, inconceivably, looked me up again and tried to hang. She found out where I'd be and accosted me there.
Who did this girl think she was? I shunned her at our local dive bar, and she kept calling or texting all night after it closed.
Why was she so frantic to see me again? I didn’t want to play this game. I wanted to rebuild and fortify my walls.
Finally, Lisa showed up at my door at 6 am, crying, and of course I let her in. I’ve never been good at being mean to anyone, and I know I get taken advantage often because of that congeniality.
She apologized and slobbered, stumbling drunk, and begged me to acknowledge her again. I found all this perplexing but I did forgive her, and we made plans to hang out that night. It was more of the same: unrestrained talking; beautiful empathy; and a tender night, ending with her asleep in my arms.
But the cycle kept repeating: inexplicably, she disappeared again.
Love. Drama. Repeat.
With everything going on in my life I was so overwhelmed and beaten. I had no idea what to do. I didn’t know what could be a solution. Momma never told me that there were women who would use you for your heart. No one ever warned that there were girls who would consume you like a cheap thrill when it’s convenient for them.
I’d like to say this cyclical situation ended at another local bar about a month later. But it didn’t.
I traveled there one night with Lisa and suddenly it all hit me. After pounding three Bulls and Vodka, and three So-Co and Limes in an hour, I thought about this quagmire with Lisa. Then I thought about my friends who didn’t come home. I thought about their families, and whether they would want their son’s – if they had come home – self-destructing with women and whiskey at a s***tty bar.
It was the absolute lowest moment of my life. I started crying and couldn’t stop. An entire bar watched me for 45 minutes as I drowned in my tears. The bartender stood around nervously and the patrons watched the T.V.s or fumbled around for the jukebox as I unleashed almost three years of overflowing despair. Lisa just sat to my left. Staring ahead. Blinking.
No one touched me or reached out. I guess this was just the kind of place where people came sometimes to break down.
When I finally could stop, I begged her to drive me home. I didn’t sleep in my bed at my apartment. I lied curled in a blanket, clutching a pillow, unable to cope or dream.
In the morning, I resolved to remove Lisa from my life. I decided to be healthy for once. But she would come to me with her wild stubbornness and malicious intent one more time before we'd be done forever.
Next scene: The Conclusion
Connect with Dario online:
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