Entry Six: February 17, 2008

“You’re homeless?” he repeated, disbelief clear in his expression. I nodded, “This is where I live.” I gestured to the park around me. We he didn’t speak, I continued. “I sleep on that bench,” I pointed, “unless there’s a vacancy at the homeless shelter.”

“You mean you were going to sleep in the rain tonight?” he questioned.

“I still am. Nothing has changed,” I replied with a shrug. He was taking differently that I had expected. I had yet to see him cringe away or the unmistakable gleam of pity in his brown eyes.

“I’m not letting you sleep in this rain,” he said fervently. I blinked, but said nothing.

“I know you have a job though,” he said after a brief lapse of silence. I rolled my eyes, “One of the most common misconceptions about being homeless is that we don’t work. The majority of us hold jobs, but we can’t afford the housing. Just because I’m homeless doesn’t mean I’m uneducated or lazy. I have a college degree, but that doesn’t mean anything anymore.” I felt affronted, even if he hadn’t meant it unkindly.

I sighed roughly, “This is why I keep it a secret. People judge me for being homeless. They think that I don’t work and am lazy, they think that I do drugs and am an alcoholic, they think I whore myself out for money. It’s much easier to let people think that I’m the same as them, and let them get to know me.”

“That’s why you ran away. You knew…you knew people would think you were trying to take advantage of me,” he said in realization.

I nodded, “I can imagine how family would take it. People either think we’re a leech to society or a big charity case.”

“But you aren’t trying to take from me, that’s obvious,” Xavi remarked. “How do you really know?” I challenged him, “What if I really was?” The corner of his mouth tugged upward, “No one would sit through all of my insecurities just for some money. Well, not listening to what I had to say, anyway.” I shrugged, “People will do anything for money.”

“You have that little faith in people?” he questioned. “In society,” I corrected.

“But why would you run away?” he questioned me. I shrugged, “Because guys like the chase?” “You didn’t know I was looking for you,” he responded. “I saw you looking several times,” I mumbled.

“Did you ever think of being found?” Xavi asked, completely serious. I nodded, “Each time, yes.” “So why didn’t you? Why didn’t you try to seduce me, or get anything out of me?” he coaxed. I rolled my eyes, “As if I could seduce you.” He smiled softly, “You’d be surprised, Eva.”

I bit my lip, and looked back down.

“You feel it don’t you?” Xavi pushed. His fingers ran along my arm. I glanced up at him ruefully, “Why do you think I ran away?” He frowned, “Why are you fighting it?”

“Why start something that wouldn’t last?” I shrugged. His eyes flashed, “Why are you so set that nothing would work?” “Relationships that last are rare, and add to that my situation and yours, it’s practically doomed. We’re from completely different worlds.”

“You’re jaded,” Xavi observed, and I didn’t disagree.

Yes, I was jaded. My mother was the one who had gotten me in this mess. Had she been around, I might still have a roof over my head, and not have to worry about my next meal. So of course I was jaded.

“Why are you so jaded?” he asked with genuine eyes.

The whole story came out, from the divorce of my parents to the death of my father, including the debt which landed me in my situation. I couldn’t look at him while I talked, afraid of what he was thinking. His hand, however, came to rest on my back, rubbing comforting circles along the wet fabric of my shirt.

I refused to cry, and instead stared out at the rain. I wasn’t even sure why I’d shared all of it. Probably it was for the same reason he’d told me about his problem. He’d carried it for so long; he’d wanted it off his shoulders.

“Go home and get some sleep,” I said at last, pulling myself away from him – away from the warmth and comfort.

He looked at me evenly, “Not without you.” I carefully smoothed over my emotions – I was regaining control once again, “It’s better this way. You go home, and I stay here.” Dissatisfied with my answer, he scowled, “What can I say to make you come?” “Nothing – I don’t want your help,” I replied quickly. “You need it,” he said bluntly. I shrugged, “I survived this long.”

His eyes narrowed, “Exactly – you’re surviving, but you should get to live!” I looked him in the eye at last, “Who are you to give me that?”

His movement was sudden, and our lips met. It wasn’t a romantic kiss, but it still held passion. His hand rested on the back of my head, preventing me from moving away, holding me there. His other hand cradled my arm still from where he’d been running his fingers along the exposed flesh.

It took all of my will not to give in.

He pulled back after several long moments, breathing heavier than before, his eyes a shade darker, “I may have no right to give you a better life, but I have every desire to.”

I leaned back, “The thing is…what if I come to depend on you and everything is great. But then we get to know each other a bit better, and then suddenly we’re at odds. I’m back on the street, and I’ll have fallen out of the life. There’s nothing harder than leaving only to come back. I’ve been promised a better life before, and you can see where that has gotten me.”

“Please, let me try,” he pleaded. His eyes were genuine, so I conceded at last.

“Fine, but only for tonight,” I groaned, running a hand through my wet hair. “Every rainy night,” he amended. I scowled, “Don’t push it.” He picked up my soaked backpack, throwing it over one shoulder. He then grabbed my hand, and directed me toward his car. I felt bad about dripping all over the interior, but he assured me it was fine.

His apartment wasn’t far, and soon I flopped on the sofa. I didn’t request a blanket or anything, since I was used to going without. Instead I curled up, and closed my eyes. I hoped to be gone before he woke up, and from there I would have to consider changing parks or find a new area to hide out in. I wasn’t asleep yet when Xavi draped a blanket over me. It was too warm to refuse, so I curled into it, inhaling the warm and comforting scent.

I quickly fell asleep.


~~

I sighed as she returned to my condo, dropping my purse by the door. I wandered to her bedroom, and kicked my shoes off into the closet. After grabbing lounge pants and a shirt, I changed, tossing the business clothes into my hamper.

Carles was traveling, leaving me alone at my place.

I hadn’t realized how much I had grown dependent on his presence, but now that he was gone it felt empty. Not the whole of the population in Barcelona would make up for his absence. He was over in England playing a Champion’s League match, so he would be gone for several days.

Groaning, she grabbed her laptop and retreated to her bed. She flipped the television on to watch the news as she read through her emails. She was glad to see nothing from work had come, and it was only personal emails to respond to. She took her time going through them one by one.

I then when through the soccer newsfeeds to look for scores and updates on the team.

I blushed when I saw one come up – FC Barcelona Captain in Love? While I normally wasn’t one for reading those types of articles, I clicked anyway, wondering what the press was going to say about me.

However, it was not my face on the main picture, but another woman. I sat in shock for several minutes before reading through the article. ‘Carles Puyol, current captain of FC Barcelona, has been spotted with a female companion on several occasions now. Is it love for football’s Tarzan? Puyol, who leads a rather quiet life, has been unattached for years (or has had very private relationships). This would be one of his first girlfriends known to the public.

I could read no further.

Slamming down the lid of my laptop, I retreated to the kitchen for a glass of wine and chocolate. Regardless of where the rumor was true or not, it hurt. I didn’t have the will at that time to call Carles either. I was too scared of what the truth could hold. I didn’t feel right calling Gerard either. It was best not to bring other people in on a personal problem.

I had a restless night’s sleep, tossing and turning, finally falling asleep in the early morning hours. My alarm went off all too soon, giving me a grand total of three hours.

Work was horrible, and I was in a bad mood throughout the day. Putting on a charming smile for a customer was more difficult than ever, especially the rude ones who acted like I was the scum of the earth. I felt like that, and I had no need for them to make me feel lower.

Carles texted me several times, but with each chime of my phone, I couldn’t help but speculate if he was with her.

So I didn’t reply. I read them – they were the usual how are you doing, are you ok, thinking about you texts. Suddenly none of them seemed genuine anymore. Did he tell that other women those things? Was she with him at his very moment? Thoughts like that plagued me the entire day and I, for the first time, was relieved he was at an away game. Otherwise, he would be there to pick me up and I wasn’t sure I could deal with facing him. Instead I ignored his texts.

Carles: Is everything ok?
Carles: Did something happen?
Carles: Please, if there is anything I can do to help…

I had ignored the rest because they’d started to sound desperate. When I got off work and returned home, I finally managed to answer.

Aurora: I’m fine, just have been busy. Tired so I’m going to bed now.

I didn’t want to lie, but I had no energy to discuss what was going on with him. So instead I poured more wine and broke out the ice cream.

Turning on my laptop, I watched old episodes of Crackòvia to try and cheer myself up, but even that didn’t work.

I tried every show and movie that had made me happy before, but a tub of ice cream and wine bottle later I was out of options, so I settled for curling under the covers and sobbing, finally admitting to myself what had happened wasn’t just a bad dream, and that the news article was in fact real. I admitted to myself I would have to face Carles when he returned, no matter how much I wanted to avoid the ugly truth. And, most of all, I acknowledged that it might have to be true and the one relationship that had become meaningful in my life could soon come to an end.

I wanted to trust Carles, my heart screamed for me to do so, but my ever rational mind protested.

Acceptance was hard – was it him or me? Was I not a good girlfriend? Was it because we hadn’t had sex? I went through everything we’d done together, and what we hadn’t. Could I salvage what was left by seducing him? I could seduce men, I was sure, but only if Carles still wanted me to begin with.

No, confronting him about the situation was the only viable option. I needed the truth, regardless of the outcome and how much it hurt. I needed that finality and the answer. Without it I was sure I would not rest. I would continue to blame myself (which might happen anyway) and find flaws in all of my actions. I did that enough already as it was. Only finding another fault would be too much.

I knew what I had to do. Doing it would be one of the most painful things of my life, but it was better than leaving it unresolved. Both of us would get more hurt that way.

Eventually she turned the light out and once again tried to find sleep. Sleep came easier, but it was filled with uneasy dreams.