02: Neighbours

I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. It was the first night I'd slept through without having nightmares in six months. I'd been in Denver less than 24 hours and it's already done more for me than anything I had back home.
I wandered out into the living room and stood in awe looking out at the mountains.
'People really have no idea how lucky they are to wake up to this,' I thought to myself. I turned around only to find the huge mess of boxes that I had left last night waiting for me.
"Where to start?" I asked out loud.
"Bedroom." Great! Not only was I talking to myself, but now I was answering myself too!

Six hours later I had the bedroom, master bath, guest bath, kitchen, guest room, and office unpacked; all I had left was the living room. The hardest part about that was finding homes for my extensive book, dvd, and music collection. Most people thought it was ridiculous that I still collected vinyl records but I was a sucker for old school, timeless music; a shared love I had with my father.

I found some take out menus the real estate agent had left for me and decided on Mexican. I had serious doubts that anything here could measure up to the amazing food we had in New York, but thought I'd give it a try anyway.

With my food ordered, I set out putting my books away. Two hours later I cursed myself for having this many books. I poured myself another glass of wine and started on the last box of my cherished literary works of art.

I was down to the last few when one slipped out of my hand and fell to the floor. When I picked up my tattered, original print copy of Gone With the Wind, something fell out on the floor. I suddenly felt a knot in my stomach and my hands were trembling. I picked up the three pieces of paper that had escaped and when I flipped them over, my heart started racing and I had a vile taste in my mouth.

I collapsed back onto my couch clenching the paper in my hand. I forced myself to flip them over and regretted it the moment I did. Staring back at me were two people I didn't even know anymore; one of whom I had loved and given my heart to completely.
The first picture was of Shawn and I at my graduation from NYU. I had the biggest smile on my face and Shawn was kissing my cheek as I threw my grad cap up in the air.
The second was from the night we got engaged. Our family was behind us in the background and Shawn was on one knee slipping the ring on my finger. Again, I had a huge smile on my face and tears rolling down my cheeks. The last one was from our rehearsal. We were standing in front of St. Patrick's Cathedral; the place I had always dreamed of getting married, and we were just looking at each other and smiling. That was the last time I had a genuine smile on my face. Hours later, my entire world shattered.

That's how I was feeling right now; shattered. Shawn Gallagher had broken me; not just my heart, but me. I had serious doubt that I would ever feel whole again. Against my will, tears started to fall and I realized I never allowed myself to grieve. In a split second I lost the only man I ever loved; the only man I could ever love, as well as my best friend. Worst of all, I lost myself.

The first few weeks were unbearable. Friends and family constantly stopping by and calling to see "how I was holding up." The looks of pity on their faces made me want to leap from the top of the Empire State building. One thing about being raised an O'Connor was I had to be tough. I may have been a girly girl, but I certainly knew how to take care of myself. To that end, I never let anyone see me cry; except Patty. I put on a brave face and tried to show everyone that I was okay; that I would not let what Shawn and Lauren did to me get the best of me. They would not win.
I don't know who I was trying to fool more, them or myself. Patty was the only one who knew how broken I really was.

Now, there was no one here but me. I stared at the people in those pictures and I didn't recognize them anymore. The man in these pictures was certainly not the same man I caught pulling his dick out of my best friend; correction former best friend. And that girl; that poor, clueless, delusionally happy, stupidly naive girl. That girl was...pathetic. She actually believed a man like Shawn Gallagher could love her and give her the happily ever after he promised. Thank god that girl was gone now; stupid girl.

I couldn't stop the flood gates once they opened. With pictures still in hand I went to the kitchen to get another bottle of wine, and on my way back to the couch, turned my ipod on to the playlist that had every sappy, he broke my heart and I'll never recover song ever made and cranked it.

I don't know how much time had gone by; enough for me to finish that bottle of wine; shed over a thousand tears, and start then stop myself from tearing the pictures to shreds. I had past the point of sadness and moved on to anger. I pranced around the condo singing the words to every men are pieces of shit, I hate you you lying, cheating bastard song at the top of my lungs; stopping only briefly to yell obscenities at the image of my former husband to be.

As the song was fading out I heard banging at the door. I stumbled over a few stacks of books left on the floor and opened the door. All I saw was the top of some guy's head who was bent over with his hand out supporting himself with the wall.
"Dude, it's almost one in the morning. Some of us have to get up early. For the love of God turn this shit off!"
When he finally looked up he was surprised at who he saw standing in front of him.
"Oh,um, sorry for...cursing, I just..."
"No, I'm sorry. The real estate agent told me my neighbour didn't live here over the summer. I didn't know anyone else was around. I am so, so sorry."
"No, it's okay; your agent was right. I'm usually not here til September."
"Still, that's no excuse. I will make sure to keep the music down from now on."
"At least you could pick something a little more cheery next time," he said chuckling.
That put me at ease a little and I noticed three things: one- this guy had gorgeous blue eyes; two - he was very tall; and three - his voice was deep and smooth and it reminded me of melted butter sliding over a hot cob of corn.
"I'm Ellery, Ellery O'Connor," I said extending my hand.
"What a different name. I'm Kyle. Kyle Quincey."
We shook hands and I felt an instant sense of...comfort.
"So you're from New York," he said more like a statement than a question.
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"Your accent kind of gave it away."
"I don't have an accent!"
He laughed. "Maybe not in New York, but you sure do here! So what brings you to the Mile High city?"
I realized we were still standing in the door way.
"Do you want to come in for a bit?" I asked.
"I do but...I really should get home and try and get some sleep."
"Again, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. It was nice meeting you Ellery. If there's anything you need I'm right upstairs okay?"
"Actually...there is something."
"What's that?"
"Can you tell me where I can get a good cup of coffee?"
"I can do better than that. How about I show you? Say 9 am?"
"Yuck. Why so early?"
"9 is not early," he laughed.
"Fine. 9 it is."
"Great, see you then."
"Goodnight Kyle."
"Sweet dreams New York."

I shut the door and locked it and leaned back against it. What the hell just happened here? I looked at the clock and groaned. I don't know, but 9 am isn't that far away!