Dating : Twisted Metal

Twisted Metal

The silver necklace is bunched in my hand as I inch my way towards her front door, the cool surface presses into my sweaty palm. Her parents are home so I parked my car across from their house, but I’m still nervous that they might’ve seen me. I know that she’s home too. Her silver Prius is parked in the driveway and the little teddy bear I gave her for Valentine’s Day is still hanging from her rearview mirror.

I found the necklace between the couch cushions when I was cleaning my apartment earlier that morning. I’d like to say I’d forgotten all about it and that finding it was a coincidence, but the truth is I’d been looking for the damn thing for six months now. I checked everywhere from under the bed to the bathroom cabinets and found nothing. Thankfully though, after shoving my torso down the couch I felt my hands wrap around the silver beaded chain. I’d checked there before but hadn’t found it until now. I guess hard work really does pay off.

Before knocking I stand still and examine the necklace to make sure it’s the right one. Somehow, the thought of it changing from my car to her door seems extremely plausible. A mutual friend of ours told me that she was depressed and wasn’t leaving her house. I didn’t want to make her day worse by bringing her the wrong thing.

We were still together when she lost the necklace. She scoured our apartment for days and asked for my help multiple times. I would halfheartedly comply but I never really took it seriously. Most of my energy would be used to tease her about losing the necklace in the first place; I thought I was being funny. She didn’t laugh at a single joke I made. I guess I was stuck in my own world.

Back then, it was our yearly tradition to celebrate our anniversary at the Christmas market down by the distillery district. Our anniversary was actually in November, but our first official date was at the aforementioned market on Christmas eve. That’s where I’d gotten her the necklace, it was a gift for our seventh anniversary.

We were eating at Brick Street Bakery, our go-to sandwich shop, when I excused myself from the table. I had a surprise for her and asked her to wait for me. She didn’t know, but the day before I had come here by myself to order a custom-made necklace for her.

The lady that helped me was nice and put up with all my questions, even the stupid ones. She brought me the necklace in a small wooden box which I opened. The pendant, also made of silver, glowed in my hands. It was a perfect cylinder that could be unscrewed to put a message in. Inside there was a little note I’d scribbled myself in my very own messy handwriting: will you marry me?

The lady looked at me, misty-eyed, with a smile and said “she’s going to love it. I know she will.”

I smiled. “I know she will too.”

I paid the lady and put the necklace back in its box, exchanging a final encouraging nod with her.

On my way back I couldn’t contain my excitement, I kept thinking about what her reaction would be. I was sure she would like it because on our first date she had told me silver was her favorite type of jewelry. She even made a joke that if someone wanted to propose to her, they should give her a necklace instead of a ring. Needless to say, I was pretty confident in my choice. Not to mention I also planned to propose on the Ferris wheel where we had our first kiss as an official couple.

Everything was going according to my plan, and I was soon approaching the table where she was. I slid the box in my jacket and tapped her on the shoulder. As she opened it I couldn’t contain myself, a big grin grew on my face. I was expecting her to immediately recognize what I was doing, but instead she gave me a confused look and reprimanded me for buying her a gift.

That year we had agreed to save money. The discussion quickly turned into an argument and we headed back home angry at each other. We didn’t go to the Ferris Wheel and she didn’t unscrew the cylinder. I hoped for her to do so when we were both in a better mood but she never got the chance.

She lost it the next day.

~

Her front door seems to be taunting me. It’s daring me to ring the bell or use the metal brass handle to knock, but I can’t bring myself to do so. I don’t want to cause a scene with her parents, as they always treated me well. Through the front window I can see that she’s sitting on her couch with her mom and dad, watching TV. They’re bundled together under the blue flannel blanket from Ikea that we got for them. I don’t recognize what is playing, but it must be amazing because she can’t stop laughing. The window blocks all sound from her side, yet I silently laugh with her.

I’m glad to see she’s doing better than what my friends told me, yet at the same time I’m sad. I see her joy and realize that she’s moved on without me. Our time apart has clearly done her well.

What was I thinking? That by giving her the necklace she would leap into my arms and love me again? What a joke. Life doesn’t work that way.

Before the actual break up happened, I could tell our relationship was coming to an end. She’d stopped looking for the necklace and I’d stopped asking her about it. At the time I was glad she didn’t find the chain, as if she had it would’ve been cause for another argument. It’s selfish, I know.

Her father gets up and heads to the kitchen, interrupting my pity party. I duck down to avoid being seen.

~

A year had gone by since I bought her the necklace. It was our anniversary again only this time there were no gifts. Neither of us wanted to go out, but we forced ourselves to leave the apartment on the grounds of tradition. The drive there was painfully quiet.

When we got to the Christmas market, we both split up without a word. She went to a store that sold snow globes. I went back to the jewelry store to check on the lady that helped me last year.

At the store, the lady recognized me the moment I walked in. A smile bloomed across her face and she looked almost giddy with excitement. There was way more customers at her shop than last year. I was surprised that she remembered me at all.

“I remember you!” the lady exclaimed. “So, did your girlfriend say yes?”

Without hesitation, I replied, “Yes, she did. We are married now.”

“Oh! How is your wife then?”

“She’s doing great, our first child is due soon.”

“Is it a baby boy or a baby girl?”

“It’s going to be a surprise. It doesn’t matter though, I’ll love the kid the same.”

The lady looked at my hand and her friendly demeanor instantly changed. She paused for a moment before asking me how I was doing. I think she noticed I wasn’t wearing a ring. I responded that I had to go. My wife was waiting for me.

I went to a booth for apple cider and asked for a drink with a double shot of rum. The cashier even made it for me with a polite smile and all. As he handed it over, he wished me a nice holiday. I hated how he pitied me. It was that same look, like the one the lady had given me prior. I could tell he sensed something was off with me by the way he said goodbye, but at least he didn’t bother asking how I was doing. Given that the guy was working on Christmas Eve, I assumed he had enough problems of his own. Plus, he helped me enough already by allowing me to get drunk.

After searching for a while, I finally found her. She was talking to somebody I didn’t know. I headed her way and interrupted their conversation; I didn’t care how I came across. I could tell she was annoyed but I was too inebriated at that point to stop.

I bought two tickets and dragged her to the Ferris Wheel line; a couple made out in front of us during the whole time we waited. I could tell this made her sad. We got on our booth, they were all the same (red and white), and we went up up up.

I held her hand and tried giving her a kiss. It didn’t work. She broke away from me and looked at everything and everyone but me. Not knowing what to do, I began inspecting the city from above.

The bright red-green lights of the Christmas tree bounced off the brick walls of the distillery district. It seemed magical, the crowds flooding the streets; it was almost impossible to distinguish one person from another. Families with their children gathered together seeing the yearly performance on the makeshift stage; the elves were doing their routine. Others took pictures, a souvenir to remind them of happy memories; something they could look back at and smile about, maybe even feel nostalgic. I was so lost in the city lights, I couldn’t even tell she was crying the whole ride. I didn’t notice until we got off.

The moment we blended back into the crowd she hissed “I’m fucking done with you.” We didn’t speak for the rest of the night.

The next day, she woke up early in the morning and sat me down on the couch. It was a Monday and we both had the day off, which instantly made the conversation a red flag. She stared me down expecting me to say something. I didn’t.

“I don’t know how to deal with you anymore, it’s like I’m living with a toddler,” she said.

I knew the words weren’t going to help the moment I thought of them, but that didn’t stop me from saying them.

“Oh really? Remember when you lost that necklace less than twenty-four hours after I gave it to you? If I’m a toddler then you’re a spoiled brat!”

A bitter laugh escaped her throat. I was never really good at winning arguments and she knew that.

“Wow! Really? Like it mattered so much to you. Jesus fuck, you never let things go. And you seem to be forgetting that you didn’t even help me find it! I was losing my mind trying to find that ugly fucking thing and all you’d do was mope around and make jokes! Seriously, you’re a fucking toddler. Why is that thing so important to you anyways?”

“Because I gave it to you! For our anniversary, as a gift, and you didn’t even wear it once! On our first date you said you liked silver necklaces, what the fuck happened to that?”

“You know what? Fine. If you find the fucking thing, and that’s a very big if, I will keep it. But you know what? I know you won’t, because finding it would require you to actually give a shit about me!”

~

I think you know how it went from there. It took her a day to pack all her things into cardboard boxes and plastic containers, in the end she didn’t even bother asking about the message inside.

Her father is back now and he’s holding a bowl full of popcorn. He sits next to her and she gladly takes the bowl from his hand. She rests her head on his shoulder and he puts his arm around her. She looks happier in this moment than she ever was with me.

I smile and finally unclasp my hand around the silver necklace. I unscrew the cylinder chamber and take out the handwritten note, before opening her mailbox and dropping the necklace inside. Satisfied, I slip the note into my pocket and walk back to my car.