The last time I saw Ben we sat across from one another at a diner. I did not know then it would be our last meeting. I told him I needed a break because I didn’t now how to be honest with him and I had to find myself. He gave me a very, very blank look. It was like he was a plastic doll that could not move its hard stiff face. He said:
“Do you want me to wait for you?”
It was the saddest thing I ever heard and it terrified me. I told him I didn’t know. He did not move his face, just got up and left.
That was the night I sat alone and knew I might never feel Ben’s touch again, never eat his pound cakes, never have his legs link over mine, never taste his kiss. That was the night I first drew a lavender bath, counted my Vicodin, sat sobbing in the tub, and clearly glimpsed my black hole.
