Detriment

Tapping my finger against the table, I stared over my drink and past the seats at the door. What may come to me through that door is the very thing I might fear, or the thing I might hold most dear. My body went rigid at the thought, trying to find some balance to that concept, but I started to thrum from the rattle of my nerves instead.

What may come to me through that door... The tapping from my index finger felt almost synonymous to the ticking of a clock as I waited, watched, and then waited some more for things to take a slightly different turn. What may come through that door.

I tried to squint at it, like scrutinizing it would allow me to twist and warp space, turning the door until the windows gave way and the iron beams framing it all together snapped loose. Come.

Antsy, my anticipation started to reach a peak, my tapping no longer keeping in rhythm until the train wreck of my finger's twitch ached up my hands, spasming my knuckle and tendons until I yanked my hand from the table sharply to grab that hand and squeeze. And I mean squeeze! I squeezed that hand so hard, I was almost to believe I'd pop it from the joint, rip it away and discard the limb wholly with the intent to throw it away or yeet is across the room in some capacity.

"Diana?"

My gaze snapped sharply up, and an uneasy smile worked up out of me as I tried to smooth the wrinkles of my nerves and emotions like the lapels on a gentlemen's suit. "Yes?" I answered back calmly.

The woman settled in across from me at the faux wood table in the chair made of iron and 'wood' where we nestled face to face in the cozy atmosphere of the dimly lit café, where overcast clouds shrouded the entire room in gray. I didn't look at her. I couldn't. Instead, I snapped my gaze down to the table, at the fake grain of the wood that had black stain settling in the grooves just below the surface.

"I know this was an impromptu meeting, but I figured it would be better to see you in person to discuss this than over the phone."

"I know," I told her, toiling with my fingers a little bit. Taking in a deep breath, I stopped, held it and closed my eyes as the waning distortion of my surroundings displaced me in my mind, making me wonder if I might throw up from it all.

"I wanted to let you know it wasn't your fault."

"I know," I repeated again.

"She loved you."

"I know." I answered back, my voice harder, more rigid, like I was blotting out everything in me warring and raging to lash out.

"Di-"

"Stop." I told her, unfurling my hands from themselves to put one up in motion for her to pause. "Just-" I put my finger and thumb to the bridge of my nose, pinching my eyes shut as I tried to think. "Stop. For a moment. Before we continue..."

"Sure. Take your time."

"Thanks," I answered, my tone serious, and all playfulness wrung out of it. "I just- I need to think."

"Okay."

Stop answering everything I say! A part of me snapped, but I didn't speak those words. Don't feel sorry. There's nothing to feel sorry about! Another part of me barked out, but those words also didn't rip loose from my mouth. Slowly, my eyes opened, and I felt like the blare of the warm overhead lights must have hit me in a way because it hurt. The light stung, and the pollution of it dug into me in a way that made my head throb until I was rubbing my ears, like they were already ringing. And then I spoke.

"I wanted to say so much to her," I said. "I wanted to see her turn around. I really did, because no matter what I said or did, I never could hate her, but when we were in front of each other, I couldn't do anything else but feel resentful, and I'm still sorry for it."

"That's not your fault."

"No! Of course not. It's not my fault!" I said, my voice rising a little as the jilt in my tone took a sharper note. A curled smile spread over my lips until I was opening my eyes, but rolling them as I fluttered them open and shut, like I was pissed by the prospect of it all. "She's her own person. I only wish she knew and understood that."

"Mhm. We know that. You and I both know that."

"Gah- And she fucking!" I put my hands up, and then everything kind of let loose out of me as I let my hands drop and I sighed, blinking away the wetness in my eyes. I was still pissed. Cut... Hurt, you could even say. For someone who was supposed to have sired me in this life, she sure had done a funny job at proving that she was a decent human being... at least to me. Fuck, I hated how that shit all went tits up when I took off the rose colored glasses. "I wish I could shake her!" I said, feeling my teeth scrape the cold air as I sucked it in. "I wish I could yell at her and ask her, scream at her, what the fuck she was thinking when she did all this and then up and died on me! Like she thought she never had to deal with absconding from her responsibilities all because I told her I was tired of being her kerosene, but no! That wasn't good enough! And I wasn't worth it!"

"I mean, you are-"

"DON'T!" I put my face in my hands. "Don't speak on her behalf. It just makes me more pissed."

"Okay."

"God." And I shuddered, my shoulders slumped forward as I bent over my table, in my chair, in this hard seat that somehow didn't make my ass hurt because it was bare of any cushioning. "I want to hate her," I told her. "I really do, but I can't. I'm just pissed that she never took initiative to fix anything, and she always played pretend that she did and it hurts. It sucks! And it hurts." And when she didn't say anything, I continued. "I wanted her to be there, to kind of turn things around and stop being that kid. That kid that just... watched me grow from being a little kid to an adult. I want to be adults side-by-side with her, but now she's gone. She's just... gone, and I have to deal with that too. I knew I had to, but it doesn't make it feel any better."

My teeth chattered, so I clenched them. "She could have bought kerosene from the store, like every other fucking idiot who never seems to get it instead of setting me on fire, but she just couldn't help herself!"

I sucked in a sharp breath, and my body shuddered. "God damnit! I hate that shit! I hate how everyone who's ever tried to paint themselves as these... helpful people, these... community actors, just love to fucking set people like me on fire because they can't be fucked enough to buy kerosene from a store, to find some other entertainment elsewhere and I get to suffer for it. And she wasn't any different, and now she's dead. Great!" I rolled my eyes, tears streaming down my face. I blinked a few more times, then squeezed my eyes shut as more tears kept streaming down my face. "Great."

The chair clattered as she got up, and I nodded at her that it was good. That it was okay to go, because I think she too knew she was at a loss, and without the capacity to be the heart health I needed right now.

And so I just put my head in my hands and leaned over the chair as she stepped outside to give me a moment, while I sobbed... in the corner of the dark room of the nearly empty café. Some mother... Some body... But not mine. Not me.

We weren't close enough, because it was never meant to be.