Breaking Through The Blackout - 1. Lessons In Leaving

1

Andrew Piper started the U-haul and hesitated before getting out and slowly making his way up the snow lined sidewalk to the wooden staircase. It ascended to what used to be his home. He had surrendered it in defeat two weeks earlier, in preparation for the long drive from his Illinois home to the far east coast; Maine.

He was running from his once picturesque life, the same life that now lay in shards atop the snowflakes. It was now a bitter cold day in late February, and Andrew was alone, peering in at what used to be his apartment. The white walls were bare, the floors swept and mopped, waiting for a new tenant, a new couple. Knowing that he was taking it all in for the last time, Andrew slowly opened the little white door.

He could still remember that bright fall day when he and David had been given the keys. He recalled the grey and white sweater David had worn, and how happy he had looked as hed swept Andrew inside, kissing him deeply. Andrew had soaked it all in, and he could still see in his mind’s eye the perfect happiness that had emanated from David’s bright blue eyes, enveloping them both in warmth. His recollections played like a film strip through his mind, initially cutting out the negative ones. The memories of Halloween and the party they’d attended, he as a vampire, and David as a comic book villain; their first Christmas together with all the shiny gifts they had exchanged; the talks of the future and of children; and their many game nights they'd spent in the small living room with their friends.

All that was gone now, swept away like glittering snow on a gust of frigid wind. For with the memories of the love and companionship came the negative recollections of the fights and arguments that, rather than leading to any solid resolutions, only left each of them feeling a little more broken than the one before. For Andrew, the most painful memory, the one that would replay forever, was of the last night they'd spent together, now almost a month past. The night when the snow globe they'd lived in exploded with a heartbreaking bang, the night that it all ended.

Andrew remembered the pain and betrayal he'd felt when David had thrown in the towel. He had pushed David to the door, throwing his belongings at him. He had cried then, but not nearly as hard as he cried now.

The tears streamed down his hot cheeks while the guttural sobs wracked his thin frame as he trailed through the rooms. He and David's scents still lingered here. There was the unmistakable smell of David's cologne, faint but detectable. Andrew had fallen in love with that scent, a clean fresh smell, with a masculine edge. It reminded him of warmth and safety, and was a source of calm. There was also the smell of the coffee scented candles they'd loved to burn in the evenings. All of these scents invaded Andrews’s nostrils before creeping into his chest to cruelly break his heart all over again.

Now his only wish was that he had begged that night instead of being stubborn and allowing his anger and hurt to blind him. He wished he would have cried harder, shown a little more of his heart. Maybe if he'd done all this, David would have stayed.

He stayed a few minutes longer, reveling in the pain of all the memories, a punishment he felt he somehow deserved.

As if to ingrain all of this in his soul, he took one last look around, inhaled the scents of security, then turned and locked the door on his life for the last time.

*******

He was headed to a small coastal town in Maine where a family friend, Diane Nolan lived. She was a sweet woman in her late forties, although she neither looked nor acted it. She was a chain smoking, whiskey drinking ex hippie with a love of kinship, art, and indie music. More often than not, she could be found in her studio, in flannel night pants and a smock, toting a paintbrush and a joint. He hadn’t seen Diane in years, since the funeral of her second husband Warren. She’d been distraught at first, but had recovered quite quickly, returning to her job teaching art at a local university after only a month of leave. Andrew had always been inspired by her tremendous amount of strength, and he hoped that spending some time with her would help him to cope with losing David.

The opportunity couldn’t have come at a better time. He was so hurt that the idea of moving to Maine and placing such a distance between himself and the source of his pain was highly appealing. His hopes were that being near the ocean would somehow help him to center himself. He would immerse himself in his work and focus on letting go of the anguish that he felt.

There would be no turning around. He’d set things up in such a way that even had he wanted to, he would be unable to turn back. All of his friends had been given their goodbyes, all ends tied up neatly. Andrew was stubborn, and he knew it. At times it was good, and at other times a flaw, but it was always there. If he made up his mind, nothing could sway him. This was of course, until he had met David. David had made him see things differently, pushed him to be open minded. He still held onto his bullheadedness, but reserved it for when he needed it.

It was that very stubbornness that drove him across Indiana, through Ohio and Pennsylvania. He only stopped for gas and bathroom breaks. The past month had killed his appetite, reducing his weight by twelve pounds. He only ate because he was already slim to start with, and he didn’t want to look too sickly.

It wasn’t until he reached New York that he stopped to sleep. It was dark and the snow was blowing in drifts as he pulled off of the interstate and into a rest stop. He shut off the ignition and sat for a moment, thinking of nothing other than the pure white snowflakes that landed on the before melting and turning into a tiny stream of water that ran down the glass.

He stepped out into the cold and made his way towards the restrooms, feeling the icy wind burning his cheeks and ears. The freezing sensation was nothing compared to the feeling of cold in his chest, right where his heart was supposed to be.

In the dimly lit bathroom, he locked himself into the last stall in a row of six. He sat with his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his palm. While relieving himself he eyed the graffiti that adorned the back of the stall door. Bits and pieces of peoples’ thoughts scattered across the gray paint, standing out in inks of every color. Some were vulgar, some humorous, and even some lines of poetry. When he had finished he stood at the sink peering in the mirror. He’d been handsome, with dark hair and green eyes. At 6’1 he looked to be a swimmer, standing dressed in a pair of brown sweatpants and the parka David had got him for Christmas. He now had circles under his eyes, and a layer of stubble was creeping across his jaw line. He needed sleep, sleep that wasn’t haunted by dreams of him and David together, unbroken.

He washed his hands, staring at the ring David had given him. It was two rings locked together, one side silver, with a small diamond that served as a marker for the roman numerals that were engraved on the gold side. Every month that they had spent together, Andrew had positioned the diamond opposite the corresponding numeral. It was on the one now, for once they'd reached twelve months, and there were no more numerals, he had begun to count years instead. He felt a pain in his heart as he realized that he would no longer be moving that diamond. Never again would he count the years of he and David’s love. A single tear slipped down his cheek as he dried his hands.

Before leaving he returned to the stall. He had no pencil, so fishing the U-Haul key from his pocket he carved letters into the grey paint. He scratched the flesh of the door, revealing the silver metal beneath. When he finished it read: ANDREW LOVES DAVID FOREVER.

Back in the truck he laid across the seat, curled in a ball with the heater on and his coat over him. He lay chewing his lips, until his heavy lids closed and he drifted off to sleep, his chest rising and falling softly.

His dreams were of things he would not recall upon waking. The only one he would remember was the one of David’s glittering blue eyes smiling at him lovingly.

*******

It wasn’t until the next afternoon that Andrew arrived at Diane’s. It was a quaint yellow cottage with white shutters. Covered in snow, it looked more like an image from a fairytale than the dwelling of a real person. Once spring came it would be cloaked in ivy and surrounded by an assortment of herbs and wild flowers. It made him smile thinking of Diane’s love for gardening. He looked forward to helping her clear the flower beds when winter finally faded.

He followed the driveway as it wrapped around the back of the house, between the porch and the garage. He was climbing out of the moving truck as Diane flung open the door and raced to meet him. Her red hair was tied in a loose ponytail that trailed down the back of her jacket.

“My sweet young man!” she said as she wrapped him in a fierce hug. “It’s been so long. Come in, come in.”

He couldn’t help but smile, seeing her race across the drive, pulling him along.

“You aren’t worried about slipping?” he asked incredulously.

She waved one hand in the air before replying. “Oh I prepared. I salted the driveway when I knew you’d be here today. I busted my ass pretty hard last week on that ice, so you bet your boots I salted it good.”

He raised an eyebrow as they stepped inside “And you didn’t even break a hip? I’m impressed.” he joked. He then ducked the swat she aimed at his shoulder. “You rascal! What do you take me for? A granny?” she retorted with a pretend scowl.

“Of course not you fox.” He removed his boots and stood as she looked him up and down.

“I’ll be damned if you haven’t grown a foot since I seen you at Warrens wake. What are ya now? Six three?”

He chuckled “Not that tall. Six foot one.”

“Just like your father” she said with a shake of her head. Before he could say anything she added “I know, I know, we won’t even go there. Just stating a fact.”

He was grateful that she didn’t press the issue. She knew his feelings regarding the man.

He sat at the round table as Diane busied herself making him a cup of coffee. “Do you still take it with three creams and three sugars love?”

He grinned. “No other way. You know I have to have my sugar.”

She brought the cups to the table and sat opposite him. “That I do. You get it from me.”

She was right. His mother had never allowed him coffee as a child, but Diane had always let him drink with her. There were many things Diane was relaxed about, feeling that experience was the most important thing in the upbringing of a child.

They sat for a moment, just sipping their coffee in silence as Andrew looked around the kitchen. Silk grape vines hung from the curtains, and Diane had lined the cherry cabinet tops with vintage wine bottles. It was spotless, not something one would expect from an artist with Diane’s personality.

“I like what you’ve done with the kitchen Dee Dee” he said. She smiled at the reference to the nickname he had given her as a child.

“Yeah, I got sick of all the white, it was like I was in a sanitarium. Ugggh. I did a lot of redecorating this past summer. Felt it was time for a change ya know?” she ran her finger around the rim of her mug.

He scoffed and nodded. “I know where you’re coming from. Sometimes you have to decide between change and complete insanity.”

“Is that why you accepted my offer to come stay?” she asked not unkindly “Needed some change or you were gonna go crazy?”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair as he ran his hands across his face. “You could say that, although I think insanity may have already struck.”

“Oh nonsense.” She chuckled “You don’t start really going crazy til you’re my age, and by that time you’ve stopped caring how crazy people think you are and just go with the flow”

Not knowing how to respond he simply nodded and took another swig of coffee.

“Well, as I said on the phone, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. It will be nice to have someone else around. All this space and nobody to use it, it’s a damned shame. You know Im always glad to have you Andy.” She smiled and laid her hand on his arm, squeezing gently.

He gave her a half smile. “I’m glad I’m here too. I just needed to get away for a while. Figure out what I’m doing and where I’m going.”

“You never really figure out what you’re doing, but you’re here now, so don’t worry about where you’re going. I’m glad you’re hear and I will do whatever I can to help you figure this out. You know I’m not going to pry, it’s just not my style. If and when you need to talk you know I will listen sweetie.”

He stifled a yawn. “I know. I’m still processing it though. I’m not even sure if there’s really anything to talk about.”

“Boy troubles?” she asked knowingly.

“Ya hit the nail on the head”

“I know that story, they’re more trouble than their worth sometimes.” She said as she refilled her mug. “More coffee?”

He shook his head, “No, I need to get some sleep, and coffee will just keep me up.”

“Of course. You must be exhausted from the drive. I cleaned the guesthouse and put fresh linens on the bed.” She stood and pulled a key from a drawer. “This is yours as long as you’re here. I’m gonna spend the afternoon in the studio, so if you need anything gimme a call.”

He stood and took the key before hugging her.

“I really want you to know I’m glad you’re here Andy.” She said into his chest.

“I know Dee Dee. I’m glad too. I think being up here will be good for me, give me a chance to get my mind back on track.” He said, trying to convince himself as much as Diane.

“Well, start by getting some rest kiddo.” She smiled up at him. “When you get up we can figure out what we are gonna do for dinner.”

“Sounds good” He left the kitchen and fetched his bag from the U-Haul.

He entered the lower level of the garage into a small mudroom. Diane had set it up with a mirror, a coat rack and a bench. A door led to the garage, while a set of stairs led up to the guesthouse.

Directly across from the top of the stairs was a small bathroom complete with tub and shower. To the right was a large living room, with the kitchen running the length of the back wall. The kitchen was really nothing more than a long counter, with a sink in the middle below windows that looked down on the house. A stove and a refrigerator, as well as a dishwasher made up the rest of the kitchen. On the right side wall were two doors, each leading to a bedroom. Andrew chose the larger back bedroom.

The entire apartment was done in a nautical theme. The curtains were navy and white striped. The furniture was a lush maroon, slightly overstuffed, but comfortable looking. A fireplace adorned the corner opposite the kitchen, an antique ships wheel hanging grandly above it.

He put his bag in the bedroom and padded across the soft beige carpeting to the bathroom. He stripped down as the shower heated up, the steam creating a damp heat that reminded him how tired and weary he was.

The last month had been complete hell, the sleepless nights, crying spells, and the unending loneliness. He had cut himself off from his friends, saying goodbye to only a select few. He had wanted nothing more than to just vanish without a trace. It felt like the best option. The idea of just evaporating was so appealing that he had basically done just that. His heart told him he would never again feel whole without David by his side. David had been the center of Andrews world so that now every thought, every feeling somehow connected back to David. It was excruciating and he didn’t know how long he could bear it, but the pain was better than the thought that he would have to move on without him.

He stood in the shower under the water, which was so hot that it felt as if his skin were burning. He stood there regardless, finding a morbid delight in the mind numbing pain. It wiped his memory clean, and washed his heart right out of his body. He knew that the emotional ache would return, but for the moment he pretended there was nothing wrong with his life.

Knowing that he couldn’t fool himself, he shut off the water and stepped out, wrapping himself in one of the thick towels stacked on a shelf.

In the bedroom he dressed in a pair of soft red boxers and a white sweatshirt before crawling under the blankets of the big queen sized bed. The warmth of the shower slipped away as the chill from the cool sheets brushed his skin. Burrowing deeper he lay in the dark, wondering about David, wondering if he was thinking about him. He was probably sitting watching a hockey game, considering it was a Wednesday night. He ended the thought there, knowing that if he didn’t, he would begin to cry. He turned onto his side, with his arms curled up under the pillow, and his chin tucked in towards his chest.

Several minutes later, Andrew was sound asleep.