When there are no expectations, the unexpected can be sublime.

get ex girlfriend back

When there are no expectations, the unexpected can be sublime.
An uncle was remodeling his house and everyone had come to help out. In the last month, they had worked on the downstairs area. The dirty walls, which was pocked with odd pencil markings, crayon and marker drawings from the grandchildren who use to live there, were now white and pristine. The ceiling was re-painted and at the edges, where the it formed right angles with the walls, was new trimming that was sculpted to look like a row of overlapping roses. The kitchen was also redone. There was a granite counter-top. Stainless-steel sinks to replace the stained ceramic ones. A new vent hood, microwave, oven. Fresh linoleum gave the room that “new home” smell that I always liked. But this wasn’t my home and I saw no reason why I should be here.

In the bedroom upstairs, they were tearing down the wallpaper and chipping away the layer of paint underneath it. The oldest son and his family (with the grandchildren) had moved out and it was time to start over again.

Only about two more weeks of work, it would be done soon. Cousins and family friends stopped by to help whenever they could. Today the cousins from the house on the other-side of the backyard came over. They had been working on David’s room all day. David was the second son. Now that it was late in the day, the work had stopped. Now everyone was sitting around a big dining room table with beers, lettuce, mints, rice noodles and charbroiled pork with egg rolls all around.

The French love their gatherings. I guess it’s also an Asian thing. When you combine both, the atmosphere is further heightened. Everything is jovial when it shouldn’t be. People who should be tired are suddenly full of energy. I can’t operate like this, I wanted to go outside for a walk. It was a long day and I spent most of it in a bad mood. I’m a slave to my moods.

I missed her but I didn’t want to miss her. I hated her but craved for her. When I saw her in the city earlier, things hadn’t gone so well. She had wanted to shop for something at Place d’Itaile and I thought I’d come along. I wasn’t doing much that day besides reading. So I took the Metro to meet her there.

She picked up a few shirts for work from Zara and Mango. Since it was one of the few days out of the month we could spend together, we had dinner together at one of her favorite bistros down the street. And like the fools we are, we ended up fighting again - trust issues, her ex-boyfriend, the female friends around me, work, school. It was nothing new. We threw our ultimatums at each other and then shut up for a few minutes. I asked for a gin and tonic and then the bill. I walked her to the station afterward.

She hugged me at the RER station. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t mention it. I’m okay,” I smiled.
“I’ll see you next time hm? Maybe next Saturday?”
“Sure. Just text me.”
“Don’t get upset so easily. You push me away every time. Each time, the distance is further.”
“I know. I’m sorry too. I just…forget it. I’m too sensitive. Looks like it’s here.”
I squeezed her hand and she gave me a kiss on the cheek. I shifted to kiss her lips but she already dropped her arms and was turning towards the train. I waved at her. She smiled and waved back. When the train had left, I went back up to the platform and went home.

Now I was in the suburbs again. This was not my house. Why did I spend the last hour moving all the bedroom furniture downstairs. When I was moving my things from Noisy Champs to Aubervilliers, who came out to help me? No one. If my aunt had’t open her mouth to say “Oh, Stephen will come to help, he has nothing to do on weekends anyway”, I wouldn’t’ be here. But, keeping up appearances is important. I know I’m being selfish but so is everyone. The difference is, they don’t want to admit that they are.

“You’re done eating already?” one of the aunties said.
“Yeah. I’m full already thanks.” I didn’t want to tell them I already had dinner. If I did, I knew for certain my aunt would let out some passive aggressive remark about my money spending.
“You eat so little! No wonder you’re so much skinnier than last time.”
“I hope to keep it that way,” I said, “Honestly though, I’m full. Just look at my plate.”
“Okay. Come back for dessert okay!?” she said.
“I’m down to kill myself anytime,” I said. It was a joke but the double meaning was too clever for everyone there I guess so no one laughed except my aunt.

I took my plate and my Heineken with me to the kitchen. I finished the Heineken and rinsed my plate. My hands felt salty. That’s what happens when you eat bánh h?i with your bare hands. I smelled my hand. No matter how much soap I used, it’d smell like fish sauce for at least the next two hours.

“I’m too full,” I said, “I’m going out for a walk. I’ll be back soon.”
“Sure,” my aunt said. Everyone went back to their conversation. As soon as you leave the table, you no longer exist. I like it this way. That’s why I like to leave the table early.

It had been years since I came to Noisy le Grand. It use to be my neighborhood, before my parents moved to America. Some days, I wished I had gone with them. I was sixteen then, had a cute girlfriend, and was popular at school, so of course, I didn’t want to go anywhere else. Now, I wonder if it was a huge mistake. Before I moved out to Aubervilliers, I was living with my aunt.

Not much time to think about it now. No point either.

I walked down the street to where the florist use to be. It was an empty field now and across the street, a new apartment complex was being thrown up. I kept on going. My old neighborhood wasn’t too far away.

They had planted trees down the entire block, all the way to the bottom of the hill. I was almost unable to recognize the street. I walked half way down the block to where my parent’s home use to be and looked over the cast iron fence. There was a dark Peugeot on the driveway. The fountain where my father kept koi fish was filled in and replaced with a bed of flowers. Ivies climbed up the side pillars that framed the front door. The decorative stones that lined the walkway were gone too. Even the gray driveway had been repaved with some beige textured rock. Everything looked rather plain and tidy. It looked like my parent’s current home in America.

I backed away from the fence and continued down the street. I wanted to make it to the bottom of the hill, where my ex girlfriend from high school to live. We broke up when I went to college. Maybe she’d still be there or at least her family. I could say hi to them. The idea of seeing her face made me feel warm. Actually, great.

I remembered the first time we made out. We were in her bedroom while her parents had gone to the Carrefour. I had came over to study. I was kissing her and began to move my hand underneath her t-shirt when we felt the vibration of the garage door opening. She bolted up from bed. She knocked my head back and I tasted something earthy and nutty, like dirt around my lip. “Fuck!” she said and put her finger into her mouth. When she took it out, it was a dark red. She had cut her bottom lip on my top teeth.

I grabbed tissue from her nightstand and started dabbing it. It was just a small cut. She was so nervous she started crying, I sat there and stroked her hair. When her parents came upstairs and asked if we’d like some coffee, we told them she had ran into the door and busted her lip. It was no big deal.

I was a few houses away when I began to feel tired. The warmth that was swelling underneath my jacket was gone. I looked at the lighted window that faced the street and felt old. I crossed the street to have a better view of the house, then went back to the uncle’s. Maybe they’d need some more help. I’d have some dessert, another Heineken, go back home and give my girlfriend a call.
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Tags: dining room table, egg rolls, downstairs area, home smell, right angles, asian thing

When there are no expectations, the unexpected can be sublime.

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