1.
The phone rang, he answered.
"Do you know what I'm wearing?"
"I wish I did"
"I'm wearing what I had on when you asked me out, so do you
know what I am wearing?"
"I asked you out 5 times"
"The final time"
She loved to test him, he knew this so recalled every moment
they spent together. He had an eidetic memory, perfect recall. Every moment was
recorded in almost precise detail.
"Of course I do, I remember you wearing a black vest top with
a black cardigan over it, your skinny jeans and underneath a purple
thong."
"Ha, I'm not wearing the thong"
"Oh, that’s a shame"
They had been walking down a terrace street, it was a mild day,
it finally seemed like winter was over. Shopping bags in hand, the receipt had come
to £23.70.
"But you never knew what I was going to say, did you?"
"If I'd have known I would have waited till we were someplace
else, a more romantic setting for you to remember."
"I didn't know either" she said.
"You were looking down when I asked you, I wanted to wait
till you looked up so I could see your eyes but then without thinking it came
out, so I asked you"
"I'll speak to you later" she said abruptly.
The phone went dead, the light went off and the room went dark
again. The window shook as the wind and rain battered it, he closed his eyes
and fell asleep.
2.
12:47 and the telephone rang, he was in the garden hanging out
clothes. The phone vibrated its way onto the tiled floor and cracked. He came
in and picked it up.
"What was my first meal of 2010?"
"That’s easy, I though you like to test me"
"Ok how many times have you ever said you love me?"
"Written or spoken?"
"Both"
He smiled.
"Now that’s a test, I first said it in secret sitting
across from you at a table, we had been drinking cider, since then I'd told you
five thousand four hundred and thirty times although I'd thought about it continually
ever since"
He lied, the five thousand four hundred and thirty times had not
been counting the 22 post-it notes he left hidden around her room. He didn't
count this moment because she hadn't found them all.
"5430 times! Would you take them back if I punched your
brother?"
"I'd never take them back, especially if you punched my
brother"
He could picture her and his brother dancing together, it was in
a restaurant just past midnight one New Years Eve. His brother looked at her
like he looked at her, in awe. She stood out as someone that by no design or
effort had been set above everyone else. She could set fire to a man’s heart
and the flames would keep him alive.
He walked back into the garden to talk while he hung his
clothes.
"Well lucky for you your brother is safe"
"Phew, that's a weight off my shoulders!"
"I've got to go I'll speak to you soon"
"Ok, well I'll make it five thousand four hundred and
thirty one times and say I love you"
He looked at the cracked screen, only cosmetic now but the
cracks would only start to grow. He hung out the rest of the washing.
3.
It had been fourteen of her birthdays since their last one
together, a disaster at that too. He could picture every moment, he couldn't
even try to forget them. More than anything he remembered never feeling more helpless
in his entire life. She hated birthdays so he promised her the next on would be
the best one of her life. Again that seemed a helpless task.
He called her up to see if she was alive but there was no
answer. She always said she would kill herself at the age of 35, because what’s
the point in growing old? He would always tell her that one day he would change
her mind, another unfulfilled promise.
The phone rang twice then stopped, he called back and she picked
up.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Happy Birthday, glad to hear your alive"
"Oh hey, thanks.. yeah I decided to live past 35”
"How've you been? It's been awhile"
"It has, it really has. Can you remember what we had to eat
when I turned 19"
"Easy, Pancakes"
"I can't believe you"
"What?"
"You'll always remember won't you?"
"I wouldn't even know how to forget"
"Have you tried?"
"I try every day"
He couldn't begin to describe to her how his mind wandered off
into tangents every day, exploring the 3 years and 7 months they had spent
together. His memories branched off into a million directions and now the brief
time they spent together seemed almost infinite. He knew her now only as a
collective bunch of memories and his perception switched daily from pure haltered
to true bliss.
"I appreciate you calling, but I don't think we should be
talking like this again"
"Yeah sure, I'm sorry I called, just glad that you’re
alive"
The phone had gone dead, he felt numb.
It was the last conversation they ever had, he couldn't bring
himself to ever love anyone with the same intensity again. Over time even his memories
began to lie, they told a story of perfect love but only a rational man knows
that there is no such thing.
He still kept dreaming of the moments they had spent together
but now they were tainted and embroiled in an illusion of perfection. Even
though he had the capacity to recollect all the pain and all the tears in such brutal detail, his only suffice was to forget them and think of the
better times.
