When We Last Spoke by Lauren Alexandra

There is an empty space that grows when you stop talking to someone. An abyss that sucks all questions and curiosities deep down into its hungry stomach. It’s been a while since we last spoke.

Have you finally quit smoking?

“I can’t believe how busy it is today,” Ben mutters as we step out onto the balcony. It’s barely midday but the sun feels hot as it reaches our skin. He lets out a sigh as he pulls a cigarette from its box, moving it between his fingers as he flicks his lighter.

“I feel like we say that everyday these days. Is there ever an easy shift anymore?” I laugh, looking at the view that stretches far beyond our small office problems.

“Yeah, don’t think so.” A smile accompanies his words and the thing about Ben is that when he smiles at you, you actually feel it. A smile spreads across my own lips, our eye contact broken by the veil of smoke that pushes its way between us.

“Do you think you’ll ever quit smoking?” I know smokers are probably sick of hearing this question, but as the warm summer air becomes filtered with smoke I can’t help the words forming. One thing I was quick to learn about Ben was his love for self-improvement, for fitness.

“Maybe. Part of me does want to, I don’t like how it makes my lungs feel and I hate feeling like I am dependent on something. Problem is, I actually enjoy it.”

“I suppose I get that, you know how I always end up with a cigarette in my hand when I drink. I just can’t imagine doing it every day.” “I do want to cut down, I’ve for sure started smoking less recently but who knows.”

“How many do you normally smoke?” He pauses for a moment, his dark eyes crinkling in thought.

“No more than five, I’d say. Sometimes more working here though,”

We laugh because it’s what we have to do to get through another shift working a job we didn’t think could be so shit, a job that endlessly surprises us each day with new ways of being even more shit.

“I guess that’s not too bad,” Looking around I see other people who work here, people you will always find on the balcony come rain or snow smoking at least two cigarettes per break. I know I’m staring at Ben. He gives me that look he always gives me when my eyes linger a little longer than they should, but I can’t seem to look away. Standing in front of him here, I wish I could reach out and make sure he’s okay. Healthy, happy. Remove any stress this job throws at him, although I knew as soon as I met him he was fine on his own. Life seems to part ways for him, gliding and flowing around him like water to a swan.

Thinking about you now, I wonder how things are going with your job. Did you quit? Everyone in that place always talked about it, was I the first or the last to walk out that door? You taught me not to settle for that bullshit job, we both know you helped me quit without ever having to say the words. You once told me that as long as I commit 100% to whatever I do, it will be okay. It took me a long time to believe that. Maybe I’m still learning how to, especially when it comes to you. I miss you.

“Relax, Tia. This is not a situation you need to be stressed about.” Ben lectured, his demeanour strong waves of calm and unbothered as I felt like a bundle of nerves beside him.

“That’s easy for you to say, Mr Nothing Ever Affects Me.”

“I get stressed. Just about things that are worth getting stressed about.” I know it may seem silly to be stressed about something that maybe is small and insignificant, but would it kill the man to be sympathetic? I roll my eyes, leaning my head on his shoulder instead of replying. The sedative energy that surrounds him reaches out to me, his kiss evaporating whatever it was I was stressing about a moment ago. He pulls back, looking directly into my eyes. It makes me feel shy suddenly, but I try not to look away.

“What?” I ask, the silence feels too heavy.

“It will all work out you know. You just have to find your fire.”

“Okay, noted.”

“I’m serious, just decide what you need to do and do it. As long as you commit 100%, you’ll be fine.”

“It doesn’t feel like it will be fine.”

When we last spoke, it was hard to believe we share all the history that we do. The first day I saw you I was waiting for my job interview, I thought I had it all figured out. Your friend once said to me that you were like a hurricane when you entered a girl’s life, and I wish I had let those words stick a little bit more. You came into my life in a blur of warm smiles and inside jokes, and somewhere along the way everything changed. You left me feeling an array of emotions that you didn’t want to hear about. I want to talk to you, tell you that I miss you. It’s been too long since we last spoke. I miss you.

“I don’t know what to do.” It’s cold and dark as the last days of September blow through the breeze. The bright lights from the kitchen spill onto the balcony, where we sit side by side. Why won’t you look at me?

“You quit, that was the hardest part.”

“Why do you sound like you’re mad?”

“Mad? I’m not. I don’t know what you want me to say, this was your choice.”

“I know it was. I don’t regret quitting, I think. I just feel like it was stay and work here, or quit and move.”

“Do what is best for you.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“Ben, please.”

“Look, if you’d talked to me before you quit I probably would have told you to wait until you had something to go to next, but you quit. That was the hardest part in all this, you can’t change your mind now. You were so happy and sure of yourself when you told me. What changed?”

“I guess. I just. I think moving is the best thing for me to do right now, I need to start fresh.”

“Well, there’s your answer then. Commit to it.”

“I don’t want to walk away from this Ben, not if something could happen between us.”

“I can’t be the reason you stay.”

“You’re not.”

“Really? Sure sounds like I am.” “Well maybe you are part of the reason. What did you expect? Stop being an asshole.”

“Look, I’ve always said I like spending time with you but I have my own things I need to do. I don’t want a relationship with you, or anyone.” His tone softens as his words get sharper around the edges. I feel winded, like someone has kicked me in the stomach only this time the intention was to hurt. This is no accident. My mind runs back to the night you told me you wanted a relationship with me, but didn’t want to hurt me. Why are you hurting me now? I can’t look at you.

“I have to go back in, my break is over. Are you coming?” You say after a moment of silence, it must be nearly the end of my break too. Why do I care? I quit.

I nod or maybe I say a feeble, yeah. But I’m not sure. The lights of the office seem too bright for the time it is and I don’t know what makes me want to puke more. You or the fact I have to sit at my desk until 3am, replaying those words.

I remember the last time I was crying in a public bathroom. I would do anything to be back in high school upset over a stupid Maths test. Somehow along the way life got serious, I got a full time job and my own apartment. My relationship fell apart and I fell for you. You met me at a weird time in my life and something scratched at the back of my mind, telling me it was going to hurt when you left. I’ve spent far too much time staring at your back as you walk away. I guess now it’s my turn.

I can’t even remember how the conversation went the last time we spoke. Is it still okay for me to call you? I’m not sure if you would pick up. Have you changed your number? You always planned to move again. Where are you now? I miss you.