I inhale and oblige. “Liam, pizza, pets, nature, my family, you guys, sports, music, rainy days, breakfast, fruit, tea, Saturday.”
“Oh wow, we’re right behind, what was it? Pizza, pets, and nature? Boy, do I feel cherished,” Kayla mocks.
I shrug. “She said randomly.”
“Yet the doctor came first.” This comes from my sister who eyes me with the same concern she showed earlier this evening.
Panda sets the ice cream aside and lands her full attention on me. “I wonder how long it will take you to name yourself?”
I have nothing to say. She’s right. She straightens to sit on her folded legs. “First and foremost love yourself, you heal you, you make you happy because you’re the most important of all things loved. Always, always no matter what, be on your side. And I can assure you, little hen, that we’ll be there with you.”
I choke up a little on emotions, biting my lip.
“Panda, you twat, you’re making me well up. Shut up already,” Victoria says from the other side of the room. “And I don’t care. I know it in the deep tissues of my tits, they’ll eventually end up together.” My sister brings Liam back into the conversation. “I don’t know when, but it’ll happen.”
My brows furrow at my sister’s statement. I cock my head, trying to figure out how many glasses she’s had.
“Oh, mighty Gypsy woman, can you check what the future holds for me in your crystal ball? Oh, I mean, in the deep tissues of your tits?” Kayla says, throwing us all into a fit of laughter.
I don’t even know what time it is when we finally go to bed. True to their support promise, they all stay the night. We’re all in my bed, luckily, it’s not a standard double bed. We’re all tucked together but it doesn’t feel suffocating, it feels just comforting and nice. I feel loved and it’s an empowering feeling. Even if life isn’t always tied perfectly with a silky bow, it’s still a freaking gift, especially when you have truly great friends by your side. And wine. Friends and wine. Always friends and wine.
“I love you guys,” I say with a smile to my half-sleepy people.
“Did you hear the joy in her voice?” Panda asks no one in particular. With her voice raised a bit she declares, “Glory hallelujah, gurl, you’ve been saved!”
We all laugh.
I grin. “You guys are such idiots.”
“Your idiots,” Vicky says with a smile.
“Mine. Always.” Seriously, if this ain’t love, I don’t know what is.
They fall asleep one after the other. It’s harder for me to do so. Staring at the ceiling for a while, lying between my sleeping friends, my thoughts wander to Liam. In my head, I ask him, why? Why did you make me fall for you so damn hard?
Breaking a Habit, Snakes, and the Occasional Landmine
I toss and turn; fold the cushion with a little aggression, shift to my left then right side. No position feels comfortable. And Christ, I’m sweating through these sheets. The village around me is silent apart from random rural nightly sounds of buzzing bugs, nocturnal animals, and the occasional howl. I’m bone-deep tired yet can’t fall back asleep.
Each new day around here is another marathon.
The days fly by in a blink, the nights, alone in bed, are another story. The nights as nights often are, are reserved for either deep sleep or deeper contemplations. Tonight belongs to the latter. Tonight, like many nights since I arrived. When I finally have time to hear my own thoughts, I feel restless. The feeling of unfinished business weighing on me. Or maybe it’s not about unfinished business, maybe it’s about second-guessing decisions and the mother of all missed opportunities.
I give up and tear the thin sheet away. I grab a shirt, shrug it on and step out of my tukul, a dainty hut made from local materials which is my temporary home. The gentle midnight breeze is so welcome as it lightly strokes my face. I inhale deeply, walking over to the MSF mini-village joint kitchen in search of cold water. I pour myself a glass and sit on the tattered sofa, greeted by the bite of a protruding spring on my thigh.
Feels like landing here three weeks ago was like being transported into a parallel universe where the main street is the only place ninety-six percent safe from landmines. Where snakes are common, but four walls to protect you from them are not. A place where patients are admitted with a gun wound and there’s very little chance you’ll ever know how it came about or what their medical history might be to give them appropriate care. Just today we operated on a little girl that had been shot in her leg by accident. An accident, we learned later through the grapevines, happened during a clash between two families, neither of which were her own. We also learned she was allergic to morphine after she had a severe reaction and almost died.
It’s intense and surreal, and I’m sure this will not be my last assignment.
I take a drink of the water and do this thing I find myself doing absentmindedly from time to time. I pull out my phone and browse through the photos till I reach the set of photographs I took on my birthday – of Anna and me. I stop on the one of her with the deflated birthday whistle in her goofy smile. And then as ever, our one time together takes hold of my mind. It was the kind of sex that puts an intimate smile on your face each time you think about it. And boy does it cross my mind often . . . God damn it, how I miss her.
They say it takes 21 days to break a habit, to “get over something, someone.” With enough focus and a solid emotional charge, it may take about 21 days. But it’s day 21, and speaking from experience it doesn’t seem to ease, not the least bit. It seems to grow exponentially if I’m being honest. If I managed to tuck the thought of her to the back of my mind some of the time, it certainly doesn’t work anymore. She’s always there. At times stronger at times less so, but thoughts of her just won’t go away. And it’s accompanied by a squeeze in the deepest part of my gut where I’m powerless to hide or run from things. It’s as if she’s the unspoken center of everything I do and am right now.
Even before boarding the plane I had this feeling that something wasn’t right. What am I talking about? It started way before. When I left the hospital that night when her mother was admitted, the feeling of wanting to protect Anna wouldn’t leave me. If not in the literal sense, at least emotionally – to be there for her. Be the one she turns to when she’s shaken, for support. To talk or even just to be held.
It feels so deeply profound that she should be mine. Mine to make happy, mine to protect and support and love. Mine. My be all end all. I don’t think now that I’ve had her I can do without her. Did I make the right decision? It’s insane. I’m fighting so hard the same thing I want so badly. Little by little I start to wonder . . . why?
Something Anna said on the night I messed up comes back to me. “You know what I wish? I wish you’d show me exactly how you feel. Break your own damn rules and go crazy. I wish I could see you with me with zero inhibition. Doing what you really want to do. You know what I think, Liam? I think it would be perfect.”
I’m not one to seek advice, reassurance, or consult with others when it comes to my decisions or paths I choose to take, but at this moment I feel like I need to talk to someone. Someone neutral, just get this thing off my chest and maybe . . . maybe hear another opinion, just in case. I check the time and quickly calculate the time difference, yeah, he must up . . . probably way before the rooster crowed. The phone rings twice.