Out Through the in Door by Ed Hilow Read Free Book Online Page A

commitment. You don't have to share anything.” Aaron broke off some bits of bread and tossed them into the water. The ripples moved out in concentric circles colliding with one another. “But they can bring you only so far – fulfill only so much.”
              Tennison didn't know what to say or do. Aaron wasn't playing the game right. He wasn't yelling or grasping at straws or in any way acting predictable.
              Aaron stood. “I went to do laundry and the cap was off the laundry detergent, the washing machine was opened and floor around it was wet.” He looked at Tennison for an explanation but he did not offer one.
              “I went to make the bed,” Aaron continued, “and the top sheet was upside down and washed.”
              Tennison shrugged his shoulders.
              “Why was there broken glass under the bed?”
              “You're not a child. What you're looking for isn't limited to jerking off with pictures, is it?”
              “I can explain.”
              “I'm sure you can. You can always explain, but is it the truth or your version of it?”
              Tennison felt the tears in his eyes but held them back. Suddenly he was two-dimensional – like his ads. A loathing filled the pit of his stomach.
              “I'm sorry,” Aaron knelt by Tennison and took his hand. His eyes were watery and his expression soft. “I love you. I wanted so much for us. God, did you have to cheat? What did you hope to find”
              Whenever there was doubt – sadness – fear – anger – loneliness –  Tennison retreated to the one relationship that never failed – the paper lover. It became the one-night stand, the back alley blow job, the surrogate for reality. All of it was meaningless, recreational and self-satisfying but amidst his desire for sex and intimacy, he missed the most important thing – love.
              Aaron stood, brushed Tennison's cheek, and walked away.
              Perhaps love was a possibility, thought Tennison, but what thrill was there in that.
     
    43
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    THE NOTE
     
     
     
                  I squinted to put the pin into the watch band. Who had ever thought of this insipid design should be flogged. I would rather have a cavity filled. For twenty minutes I fumbled with it. Just as the pin was about to slip it into place, I dropped it – again. Damn! It rolled under the couch. I crouched down and peered into the dark space beneath. I reached in but pulled my hand back when I touched something hairy. This was the theme of my life lately – even the simplest things were difficult.
              Frustrated,  I pulled the couch out. Amidst a herd of dust bunnies, change, pens, pen caps, socks, plastic bottle caps, cat toys and some unidentifiable items was the watch pin. Also lying there was a tattered, yellowed envelope.  I picked it up and blew off the dust. It was addressed to me and postmarked December 5, 1991 –  thirteen years ago.  The handwriting was neat and distinctive – perfectly formed letters written across the envelope. It was also familiar. When I realized it was from Brian, my mind immediately went back to the first time we met.
              It was early spring. The April rains were abating and the trees just starting to bud. I had just broken up with my fiance Gina. For months our relationship had been tenuous. There was little doubt that my wild mood swings, stubbornness, constant drinking and prolonged absences, to name a few of my charming qualities, were the cause.
              Gina had done nothing to deserve this kind of treatment so I shouldn't have been surprised when she gave the ring back. In my heart I knew it was