You Should Have Been Here Yesterday

Sweaters and Mistletoe, Among Other Things

I think Joe left around one in the morning.  And a little bit after that is when I fell asleep.  But about two hours later, at three, I was woken up by a banging sound.

        I turned on the light, listening, a bit frightened.  Joey and Mick won't make the best protectors if it comes down to it.  I've always been a bit scared of someone coming to my house at night and knocking after what I went through with my dad.  It's thankfully never happened again.  Until now, that is.

        They knocked again, but it didn't sound like an angry knock.  If that makes sense.  So after a few minutes of sitting up in bed, I decided to get up and have a look.  Joey was rubbing his eyes, sitting up, and Mick looked around blearily.  We've got a peephole on our door, and when I saw that it was no other than Steven outside, I opened up quickly.  "What're you doing here?" I hissed.  He must be crazy!

        He looked troubled.  "Couldn't sleep," he mumbled, stepping inside.  "I need to tell you something."

        "You could've called," I say, still a little bitter from earlier.

        "Yeah," he says.  "I was thinking about it."

        "Calling?"

        "No.  Something else.  I gotta talk to you."  The way he said that gave me a sick feeling.  He needs to talk to me.

        "Uh, now?  Can it wait?"

        "No."

        "Right..."  I glance over at Mick and Joey, then nod towards the hallway.  We step outside.

        "So I was thinking."

        Oh, God.

       "And I decided something," Steven continues.  "I think we need... A break."

        "A break?" I asked, incredulous.  I'm tired and incoherent, yes, but I'm well enough to understand that my stomach just fell to the floor.

        "Yeah.  We haven't been spending much time together as it is.  You've been with Joe and I've been... Home.  So, yeah.  We haven't got any time.  Maybe space.  Yeah, some of that too."

        "Okay," I say quietly, slowly.  I've never been through, like, a breakup before.  This is new for me...

        "I'm sorry," he offers.

        "Yeah," I say around the huge frickin' lump in my throat.  After a long moment of silence, I glance up from my sock-covered feet.  "Yeah.  Uh, g'night, then?"

        "Yeah," he breathes.  Then whispers to himself, "Time."  With a shake of his head, he turns to walk away.  At the same time, I step inside, closing the door behind me.  I traipse back to my bedroom and proceed to gag into my pillow for several minutes.  Go me.  I say gag because, well, Mick and Joey are right outside.  And like I said, I don't sob.  I dunno... I just don't.

--

"Gin, you look like hell," Mick stated over breakfast.

        "So do you," Joey said.

        So I look like hell, do I?  What tipped him off?  The makeup smeared around my eyes from crying?  My blotchy cheeks from crying?  My red, bleary eyes from crying?  Crying, crying, crying.  So much fucking crying.

        A break.

        Space?

        Space?!  Seriously?  Space.  He needs space.  Space!  S P A C E.  Space.