I can’t

Jim had replayed those words about six hundred times since she’d said them the night prior.

As soon as he’d left her at his desk and walked out of the building, he swore he’d never go back in there. It would be too painful to relive her breaking his heart day in and day out until he got up the courage to quit. In the opposite fashion of himself, he’d returned to his shared apartment with Mark at nearly midnight, leaving a quickly scrawled note on the kitchen table.

She doesn’t love me. I’ll be back soon, but not sure when.

He moved quickly, emotions running high, his eyes and heart both aching as he threw a weeks worth of clothes and toiletries in his duffle bag. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going, but by 12:30am, he was out the door and on the road. The pitch black and quiet of the open road at night felt as heavy as his soul did as he drove south towards God only knew where. He recalled a conversation with Pam from years ago where she’d mentioned she would go to Savannah, Georgia if she could. She’d always dreamed of having a terrace outside of her bedroom where she could paint. He’d stored it away in his folder titled, “Facts about Pam that’ll come in handy one day”. Though he’d convinced himself she would have been sitting in the seat next to him when he came here. The fantasies that had taken over his thoughts recently had been ones of moving down here with her, marrying her on the beach, and raising a family together. With the open road ahead of him he couldn’t believe how foolish he’d been thinking she could actually be his.

She had a fiance, a brute of one, but still. She wasn’t his and would never be his.

A light drizzle began when he hit highway 58 on the west side of Norfolk, Virginia around 6:30am. What would have normally been a five to five and a half-hour drive was made longer by his need to refuel his car and body with gas and coffee. It was Saturday morning and the sky was lightening, but not much due to the rainstorm that felt like the world was crying with him too.

In the middle of the night when it had just been him and a few other lone strangers also facing their demons, he’d thought about her in every way. When the wind whistled, shaking his car slightly, he was reminded of her sweet giggle. Car lights reminded him of the literal light she was in his life. The beauty of the city streets and skyscrapers when he passed through Philadelphia had nothing on her.

Every so often the tears would reform in his eyes and he’d opened the window just enough to wake himself up and dry them out. In his truly delirious state he wondered if she’d even care if he never came back. He could call Michael’s office directly, tell him to ship all his belongings to him in a new city. He’d meet someone else, though not nearly as life-changing he was certain, and find a new job. He would completely change his life in order to forget she’d ever changed him to begin with.

With the open road, void of others, stretched out ahead of him, he’d laugh out loud at the absurdity of what he’d done. He was an absolute idiot ruining the one good thing he’d ever had. His laugh penetrated the air in the car and made him feel all the more alone. He felt like he was going mad over it all.

Then minutes later he found himself crying and pounding the steering wheel in rage. He’d sobbed so hard at one point he’d had to pull over to pull himself together. He wasn’t even sure who he was anymore without her. The hatred he felt for himself for getting that attached to someone he could never claim as his outweighed every stupid thing he’d done in his life. He hated crying. He hated that he was crying at all, let alone because of something he couldn’t control. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d even felt enough emotion to muster up a tear. Was this what he got for holding in his emotions too long? Tears galore?

He wondered where she was. Was she thinking of him too or was she cuddled up into Roy’s side making fun of him and his stupid big mouth that couldn’t keep shit in? He didn’t think she could be that cruel, but now he felt like he didn’t know her. After all, he’d been sure she’d run away with him. They could have flown the Vegas, gotten married in a tacky wedding that would be sure to horrify his mother. But he would have done it in an instant if it meant they could finally be together and solidify them together.

As the rain storm grew louder, pounding the roof, he saw the exit sign for Myrtle Beach. He wasn’t sure when he had subconsciously made the decision to stay near the coast, but maybe it was to be anchored to something since he’d never be anchored to her.

He felt so ridiculous with the emotions going through him. He’d never felt like this and teenager Jim would have told him to snap out of it about four hundred miles ago. His heart pounded with each bump of the uneven highway reminding him even more that while he was having a downward spiral over her, he was still heading to Savannah to feel connected to her and the terrace she would never have when she inevitably married Roy.

This was supposed to be easy, getting over someone. But she wasn’t just someone, she was the one. The one who was supposed to be with him; be the mother of his children; be the one he came home to every night; be the one he grew up with and eventually spent eternity with. Where had it all gone wrong? His mother’s wise words rang out in his mind as the storm outside and in his heart grew louder, “Jim, you can’t grow attached to her. She’s engaged. The longer you expect something to change with her, the harder you’ll fall.” He should have listened to her. This could have been avoided.

**********

As he entered the town limits of Savannah, a smile grew on his lips for the first time in nearly sixteen hours. He wasn’t sure how, it was almost 4:00pm. He was delirious, in dire need of sleep and food, having been awake for over thirty six hours. He’d only done this once before when it was finals week in college. His body felt like it was on fire, dragging with exhaustion. Torturing himself further, he drove around the heart of Savannah trying to find any hotel that may have a terrace. Catching his eyes slowly closing, he gave up, but not before finding a hotel with balconies overlooking the harbor. It was close enough for him.

Moving slowly like he was drugged, he made his way to the front desk requesting a balcony view. He was enraged, demanding even, when the front desk clerk told him they were sold out of balcony rooms. He felt like he’d never get what he wanted and in that moment compared balconies to Pam. Taking a key to the next best option, he grumbled his thanks and hauled himself towards the elevator.

His room had a view of the harbor, but he couldn’t sit out there so he didn’t care. The Spanish Moss tree outside his window looked about as pathetic as he felt. The room didn’t matter, the view didn’t matter, but everything about this stupid place felt like her. The paintings on the wall reminded him of her. The view of the balconies across the street reminded him of her. He now wondered if she’d meant she’d wanted a balcony, not a terrace and didn’t know the correct word. He told himself he didn’t care.

He toed his shoes off while ripping the college sweatshirt off over his head and changed into his sweatpants before grabbing the room service menu and collapsing into bed.

When he awoke ten hours later to darkness encasing the room, 4:37am blinking at him from the standard hotel clock, and a grumbling stomach, he felt more alone than he had while driving.

He grabbed the pillow from the other side of the bed that should have been where she was and pressed it into his face yelling, “FUCK!” into it. He heard a pounding on the other side of the wall and his eyes welled up again. 

He thought he would feel close to her in Savannah, but couldn’t have been more wrong.

**********

As the sun rose and he woke again, a random thought popped in his head to go get on an airplane and fly anywhere and be somewhere that wasn’t here.

He felt somewhat normal now knowing that he’d be back to functioning once he got food into his system and took a shower. The trifecta combination of sleep, food, and a shower. Always giving him the ability to feel like a new man.

After disrobing and stepping into the hot stream, he leaned his head against the wall, surprised that his eyes hadn’t dried up. How many times had he thought about her while he was in the shower? It was an embarrassing amount, one he’d sworn to never share with her for fear of rejection and ruining his reputation. If she only knew.

The shower did little to cleanse his soul and the water turned lukewarm quicker than he would have liked. Stepping out and toweling off as quick as his skin could handle, he dressed again, packed what little he had, and left the depressing room behind, hoping he was leaving her behind as well.

After an uneventful ride of staring at himself in the elevator’s reflection, looking like a man who was nothing more than skin, muscle, and bones, he asked for directions to the airport and headed out after grabbing a muffin. It wasn’t much, but honestly, he wasn’t hungry and the thought of eating anything made him want to gag.

One bite into the stale blueberry pastry and it was thrown out before walking out to his car.

The rising sun reminded him of another day without her and he scoffed, anger taking over his sadness. He didn’t need her. She didn’t want him. He had a whole life ahead of himself. He was twenty seven years old, he shouldn’t be worried about settling down.

He pressed his foot into the gas pedal harder once he merged onto the highway doing everything to rid his mind of terrace’s and paintings.

The Savannah/Hilton Head International Airport was less than 15 minutes from the hotel. He didn’t know where he wanted to go. He briefly felt foolish spending all this money to forget about her when all it would do would waste his money and cause him to spiral further. Yet, there was something compelling about embracing the downward trajectory of the moment, one that would probably haunt him, but it tempted him even more.

The airport wasn’t as busy as he expected as he parked his car in the long term parking lot. The airport bus was already there ready to take him to the entrance. When the driver asked what airline, he said any of them and ignored the confused glance from the driver before he turned, shaking his head. He registered the, “crazy” that fell from the man’s lip and laughed out loud. At this point, he didn’t care how insane he came off as long as he could get away from this stupid coast and her smell that followed him no matter where he landed.

The departure board in the airport showed the next flight that he could make would be to Denver, Colorado. He’d never been there and couldn’t think of anything that would remind him of her. He briefly thought about Santa Fe, but if he was going to make this a trip without any associated memories being brought up, it would have to be Denver. He pushed the memory of her talking about the desert skies when she’d gone to New Mexico as a child. She’d told him about the swirling colors that she had committed to a space in her brain that she could reference later when she painted.

He knew if he went and saw what she mentioned, he wouldn’t be able to erase it from his thoughts and Santa Fe would be all about her and less about getting over her.

The plane was boarding in thirty minutes and security was nearly empty so it didn’t take long for him to get through to the other side. He saw an airport magazine store that was open earlier than normal and made his way in to take a look at the offering.

The tiny shooters of alcohol called out to him just like the siren he was trying to ignore. He grabbed a handful, some gum, and then another handful deciding at $3.00 a piece it wasn’t that much of an investment. A rip off for what they were, yes, but cheaper than being sober and listening to his running thoughts consume his every waking moment.

The cashier looked up from his purchases at him, giving him a pitiful, sad smile. He didn’t need pity and mumbled a “thanks” before roughly grabbing the bag and heading towards his gate.

He made a quick stop by the bathroom, going into a stall to hide the fact he was downing two of the shooters, whiskey, he realized, closing his eyes tightly at the strong, burning liquid sliding down his throat.

He checked the rest of the shooters in the bag: whiskey, burning, but it would do; tequila, the quickest way to ensure he ended up with his head in a toilet; rum, his favorite, and unfortunately for him, hers as well.

He heard a call for his gate to start boarding so he quickly headed to the sink to wash his hand and got a look at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, the circles under them darker than even his worst night in college, and his skin pale and ghostly. It was comical. Not only had she ruined the inside of him, but she’d messed up the outside as well.

It didn’t take long for the alcohol to take its effect on him seeing as there was one bite of a stale muffin in his stomach, and he was dehydrated from the tears that had fallen from his eyes the day (and night) before.

He stumbled a bit and worked to regain composure. He didn’t need the plane to make an emergency landing because he was drunk, but he figured one shot for every hour he had to be on this flying tube would numb him enough.

He made it to his gate with minutes to spare, handing his boarding pass and license to the attendant, smiling, feigning normalcy even if for a second. She wrinkled her nose at him. It was probably the smell of the alcohol.

The plane was half full and he was annoyed at the site of seeing another woman in the adjoining seat. All he wanted was a row to himself, a window, and a blanket.

She smiled at him. He wasn’t blind. She was absolutely breathtakingly beautiful, but she wasn’t Pam and never would be. He sat down, grumbling a hello and cursing himself for not having the forethought to buy a cheap set of headphones. At least he could have faked like he was listening to something. He had nothing to read or listen to and he certainly didn’t want to talk to this stranger. When the flight attendant passed him he asked if he could move to an empty row and if they had headphones for purchase.

The attendant looked to be about his mother’s age and gave him that same pitying look before directing him to an empty row and asking him to pay $10 for a set of headphones he’d more than likely have to throw away when the wires gave out after their second wear.

He thanked her and pushed the headphones that stretched his inner ears out too much and hurt relishing in the pain as it gave him something else to focus on.

He watched the plane taxi and take off, the sun now shining brightly down as if the world was mocking him and they were okay when he clearly wasn’t. When the plane was level he moved to grab another random alcohol shooter, playing Russian Roulette with whether he’d throw up in the bag provided or not. It was tequila. He took his chances. The sour flavor hit the back of his tongue and he was grateful for something else to take his mind off the hurt. He gagged, reaching for the bag, but his stomach settled and he laid his head back, closing his eyes, breathing through his mouth. It’s like he was self-destructive. Hell, he was on a plane going to nowhere in particular to get as far away from her as possible. At some point his body slouched more, ruining his alcohol shot for every hour he was on this plane pact he’d made with himself.

He awoke again when the plane touched down in Denver and was confused when he saw no mountains out of the window. Didn’t Colorado have mountains? Wasn’t that the whole point of this state? The air felt thinner and he worked harder to breathe, wondering if this was yet another sign she was present around him no matter where he went. He considered the amount of state lines between them. There were six and as he glanced out his window when the plane turned, he had no desire to be here either. He saw her in the way the clouds hit the mountains he could now see. Their peaks rising above the horizon, proud, tall, perfect. He reached for another alcohol shooter, the numbing gone, but the desire for it to return much needed.

When the plane met the gate and they exited the aircraft, he walked to the ticket counter questioning where the next flight was headed. Long Beach. He hadn’t heard of that airport before but needed to put as much distance between them as possible. It was nearing lunch, the flight wasn’t leaving for another two hours so he paid for his ticket and roamed the airport trying to find a good bar where he could be alone.

His legs carried him the length of the three terminals before he realized this was no maze and he couldn’t get lost if he tried. There were hundreds of people milling about. Families, business executives, singles who looked as miserable as his whole body felt. He checked his watch, confused momentarily what time it was before accounting for the time change. He’d left Savannah at 8:05am, the flight had been four hours meaning it was 10:00am? His body felt like he’d been up for days and he supposed even if he’d fallen asleep, his mind truly hadn’t. He found the nearest bar, sat down, and ordered the largest beer they had.

He stared off, looking at nothing in particular, thinking of Pam’s laugh, her smile, the way her nose crinkled up when she was trying not to burst when Dwight said something idiotic. He tried to suppress the thoughts of her walking towards him in a white dress or  seeing her in maternity wear because of what they created together.

He checked his watch again seeing it was almost time to board. The flight leaving around 12:30pm would only take about three hours, so it would only be two in the afternoon by the time he got there, three by the time he rented a car, four when he found a hotel to stay at, and five once he made his way to a beach, any beach.

The walk towards the end of the three terminals felt like it took an hour itself and he made it to the gate right before the doors closed.

This flight was emptier than the first and it didn’t take long to find an empty row to claim. He set the bag down that was lighter than the emotional baggage he carried before grabbing another alcohol shooter. What would it be this time? Tequila again. Lovely. His eyes burned as much as the alcohol did and he prayed he wouldn’t throw up this time either.

The flight took off and he turned to watch the clouds out the window. He saw her there too, the mountains slowly disappearing beneath him. They were fluffy, full of life, they looked like clouds out of a happy children’s movie and they infuriated him so much he slammed the window cover done, darkening the row. The sleep he fell back into was restless.

He was jolted awake when the plane hit the ground in Long Beach. His dreams of her had been more than R rated and he cursed his subconscious for betraying him when all he wanted to do was forget she ever existed. The nine state lines between them did nothing when all he could think about was the fact that she still killed his soul with her words.

He wasn’t even sure what day it was anymore. Was it Sunday? Monday? He knew it was the afternoon. He knew things were blurry. Emotionally and kind of mentally too considering the amount of alcohol he’d consumed throughout the day. At least his tears had stopped. Or dried up rather.

After stepping into the airport, he sat down at a bench, fishing his phone out from the depths of his bag. It had occurred to him he hadn’t checked it since he left. He wasn’t even positive he’d brought a phone charger in the dash to put thousands of miles between them.

He noticed he had about 20% battery left. A testimony to the longevity of the phone without usage. His phone had 51 missed calls, 22 missed voicemails, and 44 text messages. Mostly from Mark and his family. One from Pam that read, “We need to talk” and his heart lurched. He didn’t want to talk to her and in his hastiness to stop his thinking he replied quickly, “I’m in Long Beach. Don’t you have a wedding to plan?” To be honest, it was an asshole thing to say and he knew it was, but the satisfied smirk on his lips of her knowing exactly how much she’d messed up, made him a bit happy. Or at least took the edge of the pain.

He found the directions to the rental car counter. It was warmed here than in Scranton. He’d already decided he could put up permanent residence here. It was already so different from the East Coast and her.

He got a few funny looks for walking around in a sweater and jeans or maybe it was how disheveled he looked. He felt disgusting and that feeling matched everything in him.

The car was nothing exciting. It would get him from point A to point B. He asked the clerk for nearby hotels and the giddy teenager who appeared as if it were their first day asked him if he wanted a beach view or city view. He responded that he didn’t care and saw the face of the worker slump. He really was an asshole.

He took the recommendation and the directions before heading somewhere he once again didn’t know.

His whole life had been leading up to her. He’d been taking roads he didn’t know to one day find the person that mattered, the one who held his heart, and here in California, it almost resembled his life. The comfort zone didn’t exist. The city was about as West Coast as it could get. He took highway 19 to highway 1, smirking at the city name of Seal Beach, clearly where the hotel was. He wasn’t sure why it made him laugh. He just knew that Dwight and Michael would have made fun of it somehow. Michael making it infinitely inappropriate and Dwight commenting how stupid it sounded.

He did his best to put her out of his mind. How beautiful she would look here. Her hair flowing in the coastal breeze. The sun hitting her curls and highlighting them further. She would rival the movie stars here. 

The Pacific Inn was half a mile from the beach. He had grossly overestimated the timing it would take to get here. The airport was much smaller than he’d expected and the drive was easier than he thought and put him at the hotel at 2:30pm as his flight had arrived a tad early. 

He parked the rental car and got a room, ordering room service immediately before turning on SportsCenter and downing three more shots. How many had it been? He didn’t care. He wanted, needed to be fully numb. 

The burger and fries were nothing exciting but did a terrible job at helping him feel nothing when they started soaking up the alcohol in his stomach.

He stretched out his limbs on the queen sized bed, his eyes drooping closed quickly as the sleep his body and mind so desperately craved overcame him. His dreams were ridden with her, the way he was sure her body felt, the noises he was certain she’d make. It was like everything else had been in the last few days, uneasy and leaving more to be desired.

Seconds, minutes, hours later, he really wasn’t sure, he slowly opened his eyes, moonlight pouring in from the window. He had a throbbing headache and his mouth was drier than the desert he’d avoided seeing.

The alarm clock next to the bed blinked that it was only 7:00pm. His sleep made him feel like it was months later. He sat up, slowly regaining consciousness and decided to go to the beach. The sun had set hours ago, but he figured the dark sky could give him solace.

He walked the half mile to Seal Beach, the wind stronger than anything he’d experienced in Scranton, but it felt like it was eroding the emotions he no longer wanted to have. The sweatshirt did little to keep him warm, but that within itself was almost comforting. Why should he be warm when he felt so low?

He walked down the pier, ignoring the children who ran up and down screaming joyfully as tired looking parents nodded towards him.

The walk was endless, but he came to the end of the wooden walkway, leaning out on the railing watching the motor boats in the distance, the lighthouses from Santa Catalina Island, calling out to him. The wind was strong, whipping his messy hair one thousand different directions. For the first time in days, he felt almost at ease. His brain finally made the connection that it didn’t matter when he went, he would always be connected to her. She would always be an anchor to something more.

He could even swear he heard her voice calling out to him. “Jim!” the wind would call out to him every three seconds. The children running up and down the planks getting louder by the second, the water crashing higher up the wooden pilings. 

“Jim!” God, he needed to find some way to stop hearing her voice. The wind was playing tricks on him now and he moved to turn only to find her standing in front of him.

“Jim.” the figure of Pam standing in front of him said softly. 

Great, now his eyes were playing tricks. How much alcohol had he drank?

He moved past the figure, accidentally brushing against it. Oh fuck.

His head whipped around as his brain connected the dots. She was here. She was standing in front of him. Wind whipped hair swirling around, her arms wrapped around her midsection, her own eyes swollen and red.

“Pam.” he croaked out, his voice cracking at the absurdity of this. “How did you know where I was?” 

She stepped toward him, closing the gap between them. “You said you were in Long Beach. Seal Beach is an absurd name and there’s only one hotel nearby. I know you don’t like making choices so it seemed like the best bet.” Her eyes were gleaming up at him, pleading nearly.

“But...how…” He started, closing his eyes to regain composure at the absolute insanity of this whole situation.

“I flew here.” She raised her right shoulder as if to say it was no big deal. “As soon as you called, I drove to the airport and got here as quickly as possible. Plus, there’s the time change which certainly helps with things.”

His mind clouded up again and he stepped back, putting distance between them again. He cleared his throat, “What about Roy?”

Stepping towards him again, the two of them playing this game until his back hit the railing, she told him the story of how she’d ended things with Roy. “...and if you’d stayed around instead of running, you would have known I came over to tell you that. I wasn’t completely lost that you’d left. Mark informed me rather angrily that you were gone and I could tell it was because of me. But just so you know, I came here for you. I came here for us. Please don’t give up on me. Not now. Not now that I’m ready for you.” Her eyes teared up and he thought they’d both probably shed enough tears for a lifetime.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like everything was making sense. This was her grand gesture. She’d followed him across the country when he’d ran scared of what a future without her in it looked like. He put his hands on the side of her hips, widening his stance a bit, and pulled her close. 

“I love you.” She said, glancing up.

It was all he’d ever wanted to hear. “I love you too.” he whispered before he leaned down, kissing her sweet lips.

**********

“Hey, babe? Wake up.” Pam said gently, rubbing his shoulder.

“Hmm? I’m ‘wake” Jim mumbled in response as he wrapped his arms around his wife.

She touched her nose to his, “You were mumbling something about California and plane rides and alcohol. What kind of dream were you having?”

Jim’s eyes opened further, consciousness enveloping him. He glanced around the room. Their room. He pulled her in as tight as possible. “I dreamt that you told me you couldn’t be with me so I left Scranton and went to all these cities trying to forget about you. But sorry, hon, you’re kind of unforgettable.” He kissed the tip of her nose, breathing her in and breathing out the horrible feelings he’d had of running away from her.

“Why would I have ever told you no? You were always it for me. Even when I didn’t realize it. When you asked me if I was going to marry him and I realized that was the last thing I wanted to do, I went home, called the wedding off and ran to you. Do you remember that night?” She smirked up at him.

“How could I forget that night?” He responded, his lips millimeters from her own. “I haven’t forgotten that night, the next, or the ten years that have past us since then.” He kissed her fully, his wife, his love, embracing her. The dream was a clear reminder to never take this for granted. 

“I love you.” she pulled back, murmuring against his lips.

“I love you too.” was his response as he rolled on top of her, memorizing what she felt like so he’d never have a nightmare where she wasn’t his ever again.