Supply Her

    The outside did nothing in three years but sleet during the dead of our winters. After tonight...not so little. Four inches of delicate powder dove from heaven and lit up the ground while the wind blew it up to oblivion. Being out in it was like swimming in a sea of menthol; f*****g cold and hot on the skin and in the eyes, and it was everywhere at once without an exit or escape.

    People might joke about this later saying hell had frozen over, but tonight they all imagined living in the distance on the wrong side of space and time. Far removed from any familiar islands.

    They kept glancing at the others' name-tag and missing the point -- some significant application of a title. A label. A context. They recognize each other but not in any humanistic way. I found a moment of common loneliness which I've learned to appreciate and even value. Un-clipped my name-tag and set it on the counter in front of me to examine the form and it's degeneration. I studied the shape and curve of each and every yellow letter. I have no sense at all that it says my name or what that even means. I can't stand any of this.

    We closed and I was driven home at a snails pace. Dinner was Ramen and a peanut butter sandwich. Wine to guzzle.

    Early on that day I waited for my ride to work in the blizzard. Sat dreamless and high on the bus then got off; slipped and fell. Broke my last smoke right at the filter. All the paths taken. Every street across. I watched the people crash. In cars, on bikes, by feet to knees. I couldn't help but wonder why any of us were walking around outside right now.

    I woke up the next day to greet December just as everyone else did.

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    My eyes flew open to a room far too bright. The shine stuck to the back of my eyelids. I picked up my phone to look at the time and I noticed the scent of a woman lingered in the room. I heard the toilet flush. I figured because she'd been staying here, Claire put too much perfume on in the hall bathroom. She and Greg usually get up around this time. Nine-thirty is too early for me so I rolled back on my side and put a pillow over my head.

    I'm wrong.

    Just about a minute later a body crawls into bed with me. I had no need to be alarmed because I could feel her arms wrap around me and they were far too soft to be my roommate's. So instead I said, "Hope you're not in the wrong bed..."

    "Hope not." She whispers back. She obviously knew me but I don't remember being quite this drunk last night.

    "Just to make sure you're who I think you are...what's your name again?" I didn't want to turn around yet for fear of regret.

    "You have to guess."

    F**k.

    I turn around and sit up a little. She is so unexpectedly beautiful I find myself suddenly okay with the brightness of the room. She was nude. I was in the nude. The problem was not her arrival. The problem was that I had no idea who she was or where she came from. None.

    I stared at her eagerly awaiting some recollection of her but it never came. Her eyes opened to green and a drowsy smile came over her face.

    "Now, how can I possibly be this interesting to you at this hour?" She closed her eyes and nestled her head into my pillow. 

    "Who are you?" My voice cracked.

    "I'm the love of your life. Now go back to sleep."  She stole the sheets from me and put my arm around her, forcing me into a tangle .

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    Three and a half weeks passed without incident. I don't know how I pulled it off but...

    "Why would you say something like that to me? What the f**k would make you think that would be a good idea.?"

    I'm caught. Couldn't remember the death of her brother because...well, I never knew. I've been skimming on little observations and quick assessments for all this time. She did pick up on a few, minor discrepancies, but I blamed it on the grass.

    "I am so, so sorry baby. I...can't. I don't know why I said that." Her glare frightened me a little. I covered well. She sighed, then she forgave me.

    She told me to think before I speak and called me a f****n' b*****d; adding, "...I will never forget that you said that." What I said doesn't matter. The damage was done. "I'm getting a bottle of wine and smokes. Do you want anything?"

    "No."

    "I'll be back." God I hope so.

    To me, she revealed herself as the most beautiful and powerful thing in the world; perfect in that moment as she stepped out the door. She brought tears to her eyes. Yet, she was tolerant and forgiving. She was not a self-righteous person. Nor was she selfish. She understood things about the world not many people did. She forgave me.

    Not only did I feel terrible about what came out of my mouth but I actually felt stupid for forgetting. (Interesting). I loved her as I knew I should. The situation was now completely lost on me. The confusion. The questions. Any reasons? I lay down on the kitchen floor of my apartment which I had shared with one roommate for two years. Greg knew her name, he spoke to her like he spoke to me. She did the same to him. I've known Greg for years. I woke up to her a matter of weeks ago. A delivery from Cupid or some such s**t. When I call my family I manipulate the conversations to find out information because they all know her too. They recite what I've said about her verbatim. Everything about her. All of her past with me. All of which is new to me.

    This is what I know:

    We've been together for almost three years. We met at a show. She's been a fan of the band for a long time. She proved it by her undying devotion and sincerity. She moved in with me last February. She knows my favorite books, records and movies. She still makes mix cds for me. Our politics are the same. We record our conversations for our kids for Christ's sake. Something we have apparently discussed in great detail. We take a shower almost every day together listening to a classical station on the radio -- sometimes she prefers jazz -- and she loves me with everything she's got. So much so, it's become the mammoth of this mystery. How can she love me? Talk about insecurity. This woman is truly the woman of my dreams, and it seems like our lives are bound within each other for good. They have been for a while. However, the phrase, 'too good to be true,' comes to mind often. I can't understand what I could possibly have to offer.

    I can not lose her; can not let this rebirth see its death so closely again.

    I have to be more careful with Carry. More Thankful.

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    Christmas went well. No more blizzards. Too much to drink. Every one of my friends adore Carry, and she is always well received as each person's individual best friend. Even people who barely know me pulled me aside and reminded me of how extraordinary she was. Of course they adored her and felt the need to remind me of that fact because they already knew it. So did I by this point. More than anyone.

    Her presence commanded attention. It was not a flaw. She did not flaunt or brag. She did not complain. She could never be insulting, condescending or disrespectful to a person who wasn't asking for it. She entertained with little effort. And of all, she was the wisest soul in every room she occupied. A true freedom to behold.

    We made love that night with more passion than the neighbors wanted to deal with and received a noise complaint the next afternoon. I got a weird look from Greg and his girlfriend, Claire but had breakfast with an angel. I went to work  with a smile on my face. A f*****g smile.

    Current conversational topics at work were: stickers, cleaning and suggestive selling. Fun s**t. 

    By the time I got home Carry was asleep. I knew she had a rough day so I sat down with a beer and a joint in our living room to write these words. Let her sleep. White came out of the sky earlier but none of us at work thought it would develop into anything. Roughly ten minutes before we closed the sky fell apart. Started as heavy rain with a s**t load of wind. On the drive home it stopped and everything was calm under a stealthy, yellow sky. As I stepped out of the car and walked to my front door, the biggest snow flakes I've ever seen dove down to blanket the concrete.

    I see now, at my work desk, the ridiculousness of what's going on outside my window. No rest for the guys who plow the streets tomorrow. This would be worse than the one before. I know what happened the last time the sky fell. I was given a gift. What would I get this time?

    Out of the corner of my eye she stood silent; leaning and watching me in her underwear and a small, white shirt. She was half hidden by the corner with her hair down. Even through the shadows of the room and total silence, she translated light and life so well. She made my blood a brighter red. My breathing steady. She swam across the room and straddled me. Her hands came around my neck with kisses aimed for my cheeks. Her eyes went even with mine; forehead to forehead. She had been crying.

    "What's wr..." She put her finger to my lips, closed her eyes and shook her head.

    "I have to leave. I will be gone in the morning. I'm sorry." She closed her eyes again.

    "Huh...would you like to give me a little more than tha..."

    "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You didn't forget anything." This was true. Sadly. What would I get or what might I lose? The weather is connected. S**t. I knew it was all way too good to be true and I knew that she knew. Many sad kisses fell between us.

    "You loved me though, right?" A stupid question suits a stupid man. Why did I ask it?

    "Of course." Of course. Because I knew what the answer would be. I gave it to her. She couldn't lie. I never gave her a chance to. I know my own manifestations by name.

    The reflection of light from the snow and sky grew brighter; distorting themselves. She kept her eyes on mine and smiled; kept her hands skimming along my face. The room dissolved, and there was a pop.

    The white disappeared.

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    The outside did nothing for three months but rain, and towards the end, winter considered its departure. It decided against it. After today I have bad Deja-vu. One thing was missing of course. Wind and ice grew and grew. People slipped and banged, and vans ran into the parked SUV's. Two cabs crashed in the intersection blocking the traffic producing a void. This void collapsed and things fell in.

    I smoked a cigarette cloaked in a wool blanket on the porch. I watched a man get out of one of those cabs and execute the man who had hit him with the other. Walked up and shot him in the head through the windshield. The cabby then went to his trunk and brought something out. He spray-painted on the side of his taxi. 

    "..............................." was already there in red but faded. So he just wrote the same thing. Just a touch up. And it was still red. 

    He then drove off without any problems.

    They found me sleeping standing up and facing the open front door.

    She was gone. I asked. They didn't know who I was talking about. They didn't know a Carry. I called family. I tore my room to shreds trying to find one f*****g clue; one shred of evidence in this mess. My mind is the mess though and I know it. I'm just being dramatic. I know what's happened. I just need to take some time and cry.

    I'll go to work, come home late and drink cheap wine. I'll sleep after a while. Makes it hard to drift off when I still smell her.

    I'll wake up to another white world. This one will be dull.