2006: Italy
There have been several times in my life that I’ve woken up to tragedy and I try to say that in the least dramatic way possible, but I know it doesn’t quite come out as such. I probably talk too much about certain instances and feelings, so I won’t dive into examples; however, today I woke up to a bright and sunny day after explaining, in my dream, that they call it “Wednesday” because it’s when weddings happen (”wed-ness” was my reasoning). I expected a happier day than what occurred. I felt fresh and rejuvenated and even sort of positive. Some moments, I actually considered sitting down to breakfast with my father, not as though he’d brighten up and appreciate it immediately, and we’d engage in deep meaningful conversation about the way the world works and become best friends for the rest of our lives. I know that we’d just sit in awkward silence with maybe a few comments about school or work. That’s not the point: The point is that I was almost willing to endure that silence just for the sake of social action.
When I went to school everything seemed relatively normal (as normal as a day can be); Angie and Ben were fighting, as usual, Marty was sufficiently hiding his crush on me by proclaiming his love for other girls in loud and obnoxious terms (once he said it to her face and she hid behind a mob of actors in hopes of his disappearance - and you know, sometimes I don’t think we, as “real” actors, are very much different from the people who act however they need to in order to get what they want); teachers taught and hall monitors yelled. It was a normal day until I got to Math class and realized that Adam wasn’t there.
Well, I’ve been trying not to notice him anyway, seeing as how he unintentionally (but very directly) broke my heart and shattered my hope for a future in love. But today of all days, it worried me a little that he wasn’t there, and above all other things, this irritated me. I was having such a good morning; why did I let this missing person ruin that? It had been a while since I’d smiled so much. I spent the rest of the day in mourning and wonder, entirely back to my “usual mood” as Ben calls it (if anyone ever asks how I am around him, this is how he’ll answer for me).
I didn’t feel much like practicing any drama that day, so I skipped practice and went home after school. I walked into the apartment only to meet several sticky notes pasted around the room that Adam called many times throughout the day, and could I please tell that incessant boy that I can’t answer until school is over so to stop bothering my father while he is having his first leisurely day off in ages. First, I thought it was odd that he had had a day off at all - at least, a day that wasn’t a weekend - because he never took days off, not even on anniversaries. Then the realization that something had gone terribly wrong with Adam encompassed me and I dropped everything and ran to the phone (and I’m not speaking in clichés here, I actually did drop everything).
When he answered the tone of his voice evidenced that he must have been crying. For the first half of the conversation, he didn’t make any sense at all. He talked about his childhood dog and his grandfather, and even his little brother for a while, but it was all in broken words and unfinished sentences, giving way to sighs and silence. I didn’t know what to say or do, because I didn’t know what was causing this reaction in him. I was horrified that something had happened to his brother or that Adam himself was lost or stolen in any sense of those words.
“The point is-” he was continuing, “the point is that I’m sorry, Elissa, you have to believe me. I’m sorry.”
That’s the part that struck me.
“What are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry you broke my heart.” What? “No, I don’t know, you probably didn’t even know. I’m sorry I acted the way I’ve been acting, with the Julie thing and all. She was never my girlfriend and I don’t know why I told you that. My parents say it’s because I’m young and stupid but I really think you deserve an apology.”
Silence. What was I supposed to say to that?
“Anyway, she died in a car accident this morning so it’s not like it matters…”
And he trailed off into tears. My first thought, as horrible as it was, was that this explains it. She’s out of his life, and so he’s out of her immediate control, so he feels like he can make amends with me, right? That we’ll be peachy keen and continue on as we were… But then I realized what I was thinking. I was thinking he was using me, and that’s probably the same thought I previously had when I found out about her. How much of it was true, and did I have the strength to confront him about it?
The answer? Yes, I did. Because I woke up in a good mood and he destroyed that, I felt he deserved to be questioned.
“Adam, really, what is going on? I ‘broke your heart’? You were going to move closer to her! I’m in high school. Don’t make my life harder than it already is.”
The silence prevailed once again, and I could almost taste his surprise. Then-
“Elissa, you are my Italy.”
I only got the reference because I researched my name so fondly, but I appreciated the irony of the statement. It was also undoubtedly the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.
But how do you react to that? You are my Italy. What do you say? I was speechless. Then, in a moment of desperation, I told him I had to go.
Quickly.
I hung up and had one of those moments where you sit and stare at either the most attractive thing in the room or the plainest thing in the room - frankly, it didn’t matter either way, because you weren’t at all paying attention to what you were looking at. Instead, your mind was focused on what was inside, those empty thoughts of acceptance. You just… Stare. Stare, and everything seems to make sense for those few moments that you’re staring and thinking of nothing. The relief washes over you, as it did me while I was looking straight at the corner of the kitchen bar.
Then my dad walked in the door looking distraught, rushed, and unpleased.
