The morning that Eli and Kaori left; I walked out of my bedroom, my first thought of getting myself coffee. I thought nothing of the quiet nature of the cabin until I saw that Eli’s SUV was no longer in the small driveway in front of the cabin. The means of me getting up here and therefore my means of returning to Denver were gone. This cabin wasn’t buried deep in the forest, in fact it was sitting just outside Hogback Park, a sizable, touristy mountain town. And yet, I felt a deep tension strangling me from the inside, tearing me to shreds.
They really couldn’t wait to abandon me. They needed to escape me, instantly, as if I was a danger to them. It was all so baffling to me. I sat on the small cabin carpet, legs folded over like an infant. I stared blankly at the kitchen.
On the counter sat two mugs of coffee, one finished and the other half finished. The coffee pot had enough cold coffee left to tempt me, but not enough for a whole mug. They didn’t even spare me enough for my own cup of coffee.
How I would get back to Denver from the cabin was another matter entirely, but I wasn’t quite ready to address reality yet. I had spent so much time questioning why Eli and Kaori had seemed so close over the past quarter of a year. I had spent so much time questioning what reality was. I couldn’t differentiate what was my own over-anxious, over-imaginative head, and what was a real concern until it was far too late. Now, I had my answer, but I wasn’t ready to accept the reality in front of me.
Walking over to the coffee pot, I poured the rest into the sink. I’d walk to one of the many coffee places they had in town. I wouldn’t let their last insult enter me.
One downside of standing here was being able to see the coffee mugs from a closer view. The mug that had coffee left in it was Kaori’s. Her red lipstick that I loved so much had left its mark. My initial resolve wavered the longer my eyes stuck to the mug.
Almost instinctively, I picked up the mug, placing my lips over the mark and drinking. It tasted of her, the coffee, and her saliva. I stuck my tongue out, running it over the lipstick, savoring each bit of it. I wanted to remember her as much as I could. It was all bitter, but I lapped it up like a dog.
It wasn’t long before it became clear how pathetic this all was, but the realization only came after I had finished the coffee and cleaned her lipstick off the mug. I had not been able to stop myself, making the decision to move on before she was completely gone.
It is hard to put into words the amount of shame that filled me with. It felt that, in a sense, I had lost part of my sovereignty over myself to her. No matter how much I controlled me, it would never be 100% again. There would always be part of me that, should she ever show up, I would concede to again. All because I couldn’t keep her from my tastebuds.