Time Travelers Anonymous
August 23, 2007
Whether it’s the alcohol, the pills or Kate, I wake rested for the first time in days. No, scratch that. For the first time since I woke up in this reality. Sleep is no longer the enemy, not as long as she’s here. Of course, the morning also comes with the sinking feeling that it can’t last. That she’ll be gone once we’ve shared an awkward breakfast.
I can’t help wondering how fumbling and inexperienced I was to her last night. To me, it was only the second time. To her… I don’t know. It wasn’t like I remembered, but I suppose it couldn’t be. We weren’t celebrating or reaching a milestone this time. We were searching for something lost, I suppose.
I wonder what she found, if anything at all.
Whatever she’s found, she isn’t running from it. She’s curled up against my side the same way I remember. She looks troubled, though. Her brow is furrowed like she’s lost in some nightmare. Maybe she is – in more ways than one. That’s a feeling I can relate to.
It takes a little work to wiggle my way out of her grasp. It’s funny– usually it would be the other way around. I’d be the one troubled and clinging to sleep and she would be the one ready to wake. It’s such a sudden, strange change from the way I’ve been for the past few weeks. It’s definitely not because of the alcohol and pills last night, which I can already feel taking their revenge on me. Is it because Kate is here with me?
I pull myself from the bed, deciding that a cup – or possibly an entire pot – of coffee is just what I need to stave off the oncoming headache. I’m pretty sure, though, that it’s just a hangover and not the return of… whatever it is I’ve been suffering from for the last four days.
It’s hard to believe I’ve been in this reality for so long. Three weeks, almost. Somehow it seems like forever and like the blink of an eye at the same time. I don’t know how to reconcile that discrepancy in mind, but it’s certainly not the only little time problem I’m having right now. Time always has a way of slipping away from people, doesn’t it? We never really pay attention to its passing properly. It either speeds by because things are wonderful, or it seems to last forever because things are terrible. But all of that is just perception. I suppose no one ever has a good grasp on the reality of how they’re moving through time.
Except for people like me – assuming there are other people like me. Maybe there’s a support group for this short of thing. Somehow I doubt it, and I wouldn’t know how to go about finding it anyway. Time Travelers Anonymous?
My brain does strange things when forced into action in the morning. But, since I seemed to have slept just fine, I have no desire to crawl back into my bed, except to spend more time with the woman in it.
“Zac, do I smell coffee?”
Only, it appears that woman is no longer in it. I turn my head to see her standing awkwardly in the kitchen doorway. She’s still wearing the old t-shirt I gave her to sleep in and nothing else. Somehow, she looks perfect., even with her hair a little messy and a few smudges of makeup left from the day before. She looks like my Kate again. Finally, something in this world that looks and feels normal.
“Yeah, the coffee’s almost done. I don’t know about you, but I’m taking mine with a little dash of whiskey. I, umm, I could make some toast or something, too, if you want…”
She shakes her head. “No, just coffee is fine. Milk and sugar; no whiskey.”
This really does feel normal. But it also feels like I’m stepping on pins and needles, just waiting for it to end. Nothing I want seems to stay, so I’m sure this won’t either. I have to tread lightly and just hope I can extend this moment as long as possible. As if I actually have some control over the way my time is going.
But I do, I remember. I controlled it yesterday, if only briefly. Can I do it again? Or will it just fade away? The thought that even what control I have is only fleeting and will only leave me longing more is the very reason I’m pouring whiskey into my coffee, hoping to prevent the headaches from starting again. I can’t let myself be tempted by the momentary closeness to Taylor that those visions brings me.
“I’ve heard of hair of the dog, but I think you’re taking it a bit too far,” Kate remarks. I almost drop my cup when I realize how close she’s standing. I must have been lost in my thoughts again for too long.
“Trust me, I need it,” I reply, offering her the closest thing to a smile that I can manage. I figure that will keep her from worrying too much. She’ll think I’m just trying to fight the hangover.
I’m not sure she totally buys it, but she’s willing to at least let me off the hook for now. There’s probably a lot more important issues she wants to talk about, but I think we’re both trying to ignore all of that for the time being. We sit at the table and sip our coffee in awkward silence. To an outsider, we’d just look like a picture of a happy couple enjoying their breakfast in peace and quiet. Only the two of us know that isn’t true.
“Zac.”
The silence is broken, finally, and of course she’s the one to break it, not me. I’d drag this out forever if I could – whatever forever is, anyway.
“Yeah, Kate?”
She sighs. “I shouldn’t stay here all day. I shouldn’t have come here at all, you know. I should just leave before…”
“We’ve already done something stupid, if that’s what you were going to say. Although I wouldn’t characterize it that way, but thanks.” I’m not angry, because I expected this. But I just don’t have the patience to be nice right now. I just want to say what I mean.
“I didn’t mean that,” she replies, then bites down on her lip. “Well, I kind of did mean that. It’s what I was going to say, anyway. Look, Zac… this can’t work. You know it can’t.”
“We haven’t even tried. So, no, I don’t know that it can’t work. A few months of trying, months that I don’t even –” I stop myself before I can finish that sentence. Months that I don’t even remember.
Kate eyes me strangely, but doesn’t press me to continue. I guess, maybe, for once I’ve said something right. We really haven’t tried. I don’t know what I was like in that missing year, but I can guess. I wasn’t any different than I was before. I gave my all to Taylor – at least in my mind, judging by how surprised he was in my vision – and Kate got what was left.
It isn’t fair.
I almost drop the coffee cup when I realize it. How can I not have seen before just how much I’ve lost? I’ve been so focused on losing Taylor that Kate was almost an afterthought. Yet, I know that if given the choice, I couldn’t give either of them up. But in this other world, this strange world, I’m without both of them.
What if I have to choose now?
I can stay here and try to mend things with Kate, accepting that Taylor is gone. Or can I refuse to accept that and keep trying to get back to Taylor. But what if I can’t get back to save Taylor and I can’t get Kate back? What if I’ve lost them both for good and there’s nothing I can do about it?
This trip into the future is feeling more and more like it’s trying to teach me a lesson. I hope the lesson isn’t that I do have to choose, that I’m a selfish idiot for wanting them both. But I’m afraid that’s what it is. If that’s what this is all about, I want no part of it. I won’t stay in this world. Whatever those headaches and visions were pulling my toward, I’m not going to fight it.
Kate’s eying my strangely, but I can’t stop to explain any of this to her. I stand up and dump my liquor-laced coffee down the sink, rinse the cup, and pour myself a fresh cup, this time filling it only with coffee.
“Trying sobriety for a change?” Kate asks when I finally turn back around to face her.
“Something like that,” I mumble, shuffling back to the table. I sit down and take a few sips, trying to collect my thoughts and figure out what to say. “Look, maybe you’re right. Maybe you should leave. I’m really not feeling well today and maybe… maybe we need some space again to think about what happened last night. But I still don’t want this to be over, okay?”
I hope that makes sense and convinces her. She nods slowly, taking in what I’ve said. “Okay. Space is good. You’re right. I’m going to go get dressed.”
I nod, and watch her walk out of the room. I can already feel my head beginning to pound again, but I try to ignore it. I don’t really know what I look like from the outside when one of those episodes happens, and I’m really in no mood to find out. Hopefully I can keep myself strong and not let Kate see that. If I can just hold it off until she leaves.
But of course the pounding gets stronger with every second that passes. My vision starts to blur a little. I’ve got to do something to distract myself, to keep from giving in. I jump up and practically sprint to the living room. Television, especially at this time of day, is disgustingly mindless, but it should distract me enough. There shouldn’t be anything on daytime tv to make me think of Taylor and give in to the desire to see him again.
There’s a cooking show on, and anyone who knows me knows how much I love food. That should be the perfect thing to suck my mind in and keep me from falling down the rabbit hole. I can’t cook to save my life, though. But Taylor could. Damn it. Everything is bound to remind me of him. I just need to hold out until Kate’s gone, then I can let myself drift away. Maybe this time I won’t come back…
There it is again. I hardly even had to work for it this time. The only way I can describe this feeling is like there’s this invisible thread in me, pulling me backward, pulling me into this other reality, the year I’ve lost. I’m powerless to fight it, even though there’s a tiny voice in the back of my head screaming that I need to just hold on a little bit longer.
But I can’t. I want desperately to be back in that world and I’m not going to fight it.
I’m floating, fading away until my body feels weightless. I can see Taylor off in the distance. I don’t know where we are, but I’m with Taylor. That’s all that matters. Slowly, the scenery forms around us, coming into focus a little bit at a time. We’re at dinner somewhere with our wives. But I’m focused only on Taylor, and he’s staring back at me. I have this sinking feeling that he lied to me before, when he said it was over. His eyes now don’t say over.
I know that Kate and Natalie are talking, but I can’t hear their voices. It’s like the vision hasn’t fully formed, but I’m in it regardless. I try to focus, try to will myself deeper into this world, but I can’t. It’s still fuzzy and half-formed like a dream.
“Zac.”
Finally. I hear Kate say my name, but her lips aren’t moving. Something isn’t right with this picture at all.
“Zac. Zac, what’s wrong?”
Her voice seems to be coming from all around me, and it dawns on me that I’m really hearing her, back on the other side of this vision. Like a rubber band snapping, I’m pulled back into the other world. I’ve managed to fall onto the floor this time, and Kate’s staring down at me with worry in her eyes.
“Did you fall asleep? Or pass out?” She asks, and though her words are accusing, I can still see and hear her concern. “It looked like you were… I don’t even know what it looked like. You were scaring me, Zac.”
“It scared me, too,” I mumble, rubbing my head as I slowly pull myself to my feet. I’m a little unsteady on them, and Kate grabs my arm to help pull me to a seat on the couch. “I’m sorry I scared you. I guess I did fall asleep.”
“But it looked… you were so still, Zac,” she says, her voice catching a little on the last words. “It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before. Except like… I don’t know, a seizure or a… a coma or something. Don’t do that again, please.”
I wrap my arms around her as her shoulders start to shake and tears begin to fall from her eyes. “I’ll try not to. I’m sorry. I’ll be fine.”
They’re just stupid platitudes that don’t mean a thing. And every one of them is a lie, except the apology. I can’t fight this. I won’t fight this. I’m giving in to this and next time, if there’s anything I can do about it, I will stay in that other world.