“Hard Edges, Soft Skin” by Olivia Thompson
Photo by A&L Journal Advisor Mitali Khanna Sharma.
“Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.”
Pablo Neruda
She isn’t supposed to be here. In fact, she was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago to her boyfriend Nick of over a year. This doesn’t stop her though.
The man sitting in front of her smiles. She doesn’t even remember his name. Yet, she just smiles at him too and slips her jacket off.
The smell of cheap vodka disperses through the room as she opens the bottle and pours it into the shot glasses. She doesn’t bother with the semantics of making sure they’re both filled evenly.
She sets the bottle down before picking up the glasses. She hands one to the man she doesn’t know.
He grins.
They clink cups before throwing back the alcohol. It burns in the usual way, but it goes down easily.
The two of them make eye contact. And, for a moment they just stare at each other. She swears she can feel his heart beating so hard it might fall right out of his chest.
She clears her throat. “Another?”
The man only nods.
And, so the night goes on.
It is at 4 am when she finally wakes up next to the stranger. Her head hurts, but she just shakes it off with a shrug and pulls on her clothes.
The man is sleeping peacefully. In the dim light coming from his open window, she sees that he is indeed handsome. She doesn’t bother to leave a note.
↓
She watches carefully as her dad slaps her mom right across the face. The noise rings through the open living room. She swallows.
This is how it’s supposed to be.
+
She watches carefully as her first boyfriend kisses another girl. The image pierces her skull. She cries.
This is how it’s supposed to be.
+
She watches carefully as the man she isn’t supposed to be with breathes in his sleep. The up and down of his chest makes her heart ache. She sighs.
This is how it’s supposed to be.
↓
The pitter patter of the rain on her window makes her look up from her homework. Her dorm room desk is small and cramped, and the chair is highly uncomfortable. Freshman year of college is hard, practically impossible at this point, but she pushes forward. She can’t see why she should anymore. Other than it’s what she’s supposed to do with her life.
It makes her think about her mother. The way her mother would brush her hair before bed and tell her that there was something better out there for her.
She swallows before forcing herself to look back at the paper she is typing on her computer. It feels so miniscule and stupid in the grand scheme of her life. Everything does–even living itself.
But, when she pictures her mother’s face it makes her want to keep typing. Because this is what her mother wanted for her. A good life. A good job. A good family. Something she never had. Something she might never have, actually.
She considers giving her mom a call, seeing if the number she has is still connected after so long.
When she picks up her iPhone, her fingers tremble. She can’t bring herself to dial the number. Can’t bring herself to face the woman who she left behind. Can’t bring herself to face the woman she finally decided wasn’t worth saving anymore.
↓
She steps into her home with a thud from her Doc Martens around 4:30 in the morning. She quickly kicks them off next to the pair of Vans sitting beside the entrance of the door. Their shared apartment is small and reeks of safe. There are books scattered around on their various shelves and tables. Coffee mugs sitting clean on the counter from when he had done the dishes. Throw blankets and pillows tossed haphazardly on their couch and chairs.
She takes a deep breath as she steps into their bedroom.
Nick sits up quickly.
“You made it back,” he breathes out.
She nods, “Yeah. Sorry. Girl’s night got a little crazy.”
He laughs, but it sounds forced. “Yeah, I bet. Glad you’re home.”
She changes out of her jeans and tank top into her pjs. She feels Nick’s eyes boring into her skin as he watches her carefully. He has to notice. He has to notice the bruises on her neck that weren’t there before. But, if he does, he doesn’t say anything.
With calculated strokes, she brushes her hair. There are knots and tangles at every corner, but she just continues to yank the brush through her hair.
“I’m tired,” she says as she sets the brush down on their dresser.
“What time do you have class tomorrow?” He pulls back the comforter for her.
“Not until noon.” She climbs into the bed and lies her head on her flat pillow. “You should know,” she laughs softly, “we’ve been together for, like, 6 months now.”
“Sorry.” He turns on his side and puts his arm over her waist. “Didn’t realize I had to learn your whole schedule,” he jokes.
“Don’t apologize,” she says dismissively. “Goodnight. I love you.”
He is quick to repeat the words back to her.
She closes her eyes and tries to dream of a world where maybe this wouldn’t be her normal, even though it has been since sophomore year and now she is graduating in a month.
↓
“Are you coming out tonight?” her friend Amanda asks her, not bothering to look up from her phone.
“Should I?” She stares up at the ceiling of Amanda’s apartment from her place on the floor. It’s decent outside. Chilly, but not freezing.
“I think so. I mean, it’s literally your 19th birthday. What’s a birthday without getting drunk, right?”
She snorts at Amanda’s comment. “You’re a raging alcoholic. Can’t go one night without getting drunk?”
“Says the one addicted to crystal meth.”
“That was one time,” she defends. “What time are we pregaming?”
Amanda hums. “Probably like 9? Are you bringing Nick?”
She shrugs. “Dunno.”
“You guys are really so cute, honestly. Y’all are, like, goals or whatever.”
She laughs, but it feels forced. “Yeah.” She hesitates for a moment. “I like to think we are.”
↓
“Nick,” she says. He looks up from his book sitting on the library table.
“Yeah?”
“Do you wanna go on a date or something today?” She isn’t sure what possessed her to ask.
“Today?” he repeats, just to be sure he heard her right. They’ve been together for over a year at this point.
“Yeah,” she says. She plays with her hair, twisting it between her fingers. She knows she should be studying with graduation just around the corner, but she’s tired of the usual rhythm of everything.
“Alright.”
They pack up their things and head out to the busiest area of their college town. It is nice to see all the students sitting and studying in the coffee shops. The friends eating in the over-priced restaurants. The elderly sitting on the benches and taking everything in like it could be their last time.
They are hand in hand, Nick’s being bigger than her’s. Her heart should flutter. She should feel the butterflies everyone talks about. She should’ve felt them the first time they kissed, too. But, she still feels overwhelmingly empty. Nothing matters. Not when love is a myth fools use to make themselves feel better. She doesn’t know why she keeps trying to convince herself otherwise.
“Are you hungry?” Nick asks and she nods.
“I could eat.”
“Do you wanna get ramen? I know it’s your favorite.”
She does smile softly at this, knows she should at least. Of course he remembered, they’ve been together for a long time. Nonetheless, it’s a thoughtful gesture. “Yes.”
↓
Ever since moving to a big city, she has had to get used to public transportation. It sucks, really. It’s not fun having to run on another person’s schedule, but she supposes it could be worse. The fact that it’s her first year here doesn’t help, either, though.
She is sitting on the crowded bus, someone giving up their seat for her because of her broken arm. She barely remembers how she did it, and frankly she doesn’t really care all that much. It’s just a reminder that even she is capable of being hurt still.
The bus stops at her stop and she weaves through the throng of people to get off. She steps off the bus and there’s a elderly woman standing by the corner in nothing but a simple t-shirt and ragged pants. Her shoes are dirty and have holes in the toes.
She licks her lips as she looks at the homeless woman. She has ten bucks in her wallet which she was going to use to buy something for lunch. But, maybe the woman in front of her needs it more. It’s the middle of fucking winter now, second semester having just started in their big city.
Hesitantly, she walks over to the old woman. She has gray hair and squints as she walks over.
“Here,” she says and holds out the ten dollar bill.
The woman looks at her and snatches it from her. She doesn’t even say as much as thank you.
She walks away toward her destination. She realizes easily why she felt drawn to the woman. She wipes away the tear that rolls down her cheek.
↓
“Here’s to 19, bitch!” Amanda screams as she raises her red solo cup in the air.
She laughs like anything is funny and follows suit. She feels so drunk it’s almost bad, but she ignores it and downs the rest of her drink like she has for the past year and a half.
Amanda grins and pulls her close. They dance and dance. The night escapes them.
And, when it’s over, she winds up in the place she shouldn’t be yet again. She wants to hate herself for it. Yet she doesn’t. It’s all she can understand.
↓
She knows she should stop now because if she goes any further she will do something she shouldn’t.
“Do you want to stop?” the man asks her. They are in his bedroom. It is a bit messy, but she doesn’t mind.
She shakes her head no. He kisses her again.
They kiss and kiss. They spend time together in a way where she can barely tell where her limbs end and his begin.
And, when it is all said and done, she still feels nothing but empty. She stares at the wall next to her as he sleeps. She tries so hard to make her heart ache, to make her chest hurt, to make it something that fucking matters. Nothing works.
She crawls out of his bed slowly. Her clothes are weaved throughout his room. As she jerks on her skinny jeans, the man in bed twists. She stops breathing, praying that he doesn’t wake up. Luckily, he doesn’t.
She rushes to leave.
As she stumbles home, she can’t help but think of Nick. Of knowing he’s at home waiting on her like he always is. He has to know and she knows he has to know, but neither of them say a thing about it. Maybe because they each have their own issues they’re trying to deal with and the comfort of the other is more important than the fact that she has been cheating on him since the start.
Her heart starts to feel warm inside when she thinks about him. She hates it, so she stops it. She goes back to staring at the pebbles on the ground as she heads home. Because her need to fill this void is much bigger than anything else she could ever possibly feel–if she could feel at all.
↓
She feels it intensely when her father slaps her for the first time in her life at the honest age of seven.
It’s supposed to be this way.
+
She feels it intensely as her father is put into the ground, finally gone, at the knowing age of fifteen.
It's supposed to be this way.
+
She feels it intensely while her father continues to haunt her even as she tries so hard to forget him at the tormented age of twenty.
It’s supposed to be this way, right?
↓
The snow is freezing cold against her bare skin. It burns almost. So oxymoronic.
She doesn’t want to be here, lying in the snow in nothing but shorts and a tank top, but it is not up to her.
She is only here because she doesn’t know what else to do. She hasn’t felt this way for a while. Maybe since she was fifteen and her father hurt her for the last time. This...this feels...wrong.
She isn’t supposed to feel this way about a person. She isn’t supposed to feel this way at all, in fact.
She learned to turn it all off. Emotions, feelings, sentiments. Those aren’t real. Not anymore at least.
If she lays here she can remember what it is like to be numb. What it is like to be a person who exists purely for pain. Because her skin is aching and raw, her head is pounding, and her heart feels less likely to self-implode.
She hates feeling alive. She hates remembering she is capable of anything other than a dazed existence. She hates thinking maybe she can love too.
Olivia Thompson is a rising junior at the University of Michigan majoring in International Studies and Spanish with a minor in Intergroup Relations Education. She is passionate about writing. She enjoys reading and listening to music in her free time.
