From Sex, Life, & Hannah::Volume 1, Winter Season (Chapter 2: Breaking Up With Bad Habits)
Ireland and I are shopping for another pair of shoes (it’s a chick thing—not a bad habit). My morning ice cream buzz is wearing off and I am starting to feel anxious. I haven’t confronted Ireland about her visit with Jack yet, and I’m confused about why I’m feeling territorial over the whole thing anyway. And I’m really starting to worry that this break-up really is the last. He has never denied me sex!
Suddenly I’m freaking out over everything that’s happening around me: The break-up and whether or not it could have been avoided had I been drinking a hot drink versus a cold drink, or had I intentionally spilled it all over his crotch instead of the floor. The possibility that two of my best friends could be starting some torrid affair that could lead to them getting married, running away to some tropical island, and procreating until their family represents half the population, leaving me to grow old alone, bitter, and decrepit, fighting for enough space on the sidewalk to fit my walker.
I’m having a severe moment of weakness and want to call The Ex to work things out.
Ireland takes a pack of cigarettes out of her purse. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you ate shit this morning.”
I put down the pair of white heels I’m considering. “I feel nauseous.”
I walk out of the store.
Ireland follows me out and lights a cigarette. “Over the price, or the relationship?”
I give Ireland a what-the-fuck-do-you-think look. “I need a cigarette.”
“You don’t smoke.”
“Neither do you.” I grab her pack of cigarettes.
In the nine years that I have known Ireland, she has quit smoking nineteen times. I ask her why she always goes back to her bad habit.
“I get really depressed every time I quit smoking.” She inhales slowly and deeply.
Great. I flip open my phone thinking there might be something wrong with my ringer. But there are no missed calls. I finish my cigarette and go back into the store to buy my ninety-eighth pair of shoes. I need a superficial distraction right now to delay my meltdown.
I look over at Ireland while the kid behind the counter swipes my credit card. “I need a drink.”
Sex, Life, & Hannah::Volume 1, Winter Season by Dorota Skrzypek.
Copyright 2007 by Dorota Skrzypek.
All Rights Reserved. Sharing not permitted.
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