Picking Up The Pieces

“Goodbye” she said, kindly but without turning around. 

“Bye,” said Nick. He understood. In a way, he was happy that the long walk was over. He guesstimated a two mile journey to do the polite thing and accompany her back to her dorm. It was dark, it was warm, but he felt cold. 

He stood there, holding his breath until he finally felt alone, and the wild fantasy of her changing her mind and coming back outside felt unlikely to be realized. He knew that hopeful people like him always try and hold out, just in case things actually turn for the better. Instead, the question of what to do next accompanied the disappointment he was used to. 

Before he could decide, he heard somebody saw “aw gross” to themselves just a few feet back.

“Don’t touch that!” Nick turned and said before seeing who it was. He needed a moment to wake up from his reflective state, but his urgency seemed to be enough to get the onlooker’s attention. Rushing up to the scene of discovery, Nick forgot what state he was in until the onlooker said something.

“Woah!” they were startled before speaking again, “rough night?”

“Haha, how could you tell?” Nick remembered he was still holding his mouth in his hand. To be polite, he put it back on his face as securely as he could muster. “It was really just a bad date. What did you find?”

The onlooker pointed a few feet away, it was a dead squirrel at the side of the road.

“Oh, sorry,” said Nick, relieved “I thought you’d found something that was mine.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t call you gross. I’m used to that.” the onlooker seemed sincere about this

Nick jumped to a conclusion, “You too?”

“Nah, a friend. Me and him always stayed after school late to make sure he was A-OK before going home.” This onlooker had some valuable experience. 

“You’re a saint. Mosht pbeople hate thlat spit.” Nick's mouth had drooped downward, hanging on by only one corner. An unspoken social contract convinced the average Joe it was more necessary that one pick up their pieces themselves. This person seemed to think otherwise

“When was your last bath?” the onlooker said. Nick latched onto the concern this stranger was showing him. Thank god for that repulsive squirrel.

After attempting to reposition his mouth, giving up on attaching it, and putting it back in his hand completely, he answered again. “Yesterday. It’s been a busy semester.” Nick couldn’t hide his poor hygiene. His severed mouth was evidence enough that his joints hadn’t had the chance to clean themselves

“It’s Friday, your schedule’s still so packed?”

“Yeah, everybody and my therapist tells me I’m doing too much these days. I just don’t want to keep falling apart like this. You know what they say: nobody can keep you together but yourself.” Nick hated such old wise-man's sayings, but they had yet to benefit him in practice. 

“Listen,” the onlooker was about to offer his services, “I could... “

“ No, please,” Nick felt he had to still do it himself, “you really don’t need to. I can retrace my steps- I remember most of the way.” 

“It’s 1:30 in the morning, you look like you’ve been sent through a wood chipper.” The onlooker seemed persistent, but factual. Nick was in a literally vulnerable state, and though keeping stranger’s close was already frowned upon, he felt his conversation already permitted more risk than itself had caused. He went on, “And, in exchange for helping you get yourself all patched up, you have to tell me what happened on the date.” He seemed trustworthy. That was barely a deal. It seemed like Nick would get everything: an ear to listen, and a cooperative scavenger. 

“... alright fine,” Nick said, looking around again to get his bearings on his location. He pointed down a quiet, but well lit street for the nighttime. “Here.. I came from this way. We mostly stayed around campus.” they started their trek.

“So, that was your date on campus?” The onlooker was already poking fun on his dating misfortunes.

“No,” Nick said defensively, “well, yes. There was a comedy show at the school theater. It was her idea, I'm usually bad at picking date locations.”

“So you had a weight off your shoulders?” said the onlooker

“Not even then. She ran into a bunch of people she knew. I couldn’t tell if she’d heard about the show through said friends, or she’d been to these shows a million times with other guys. I felt like we were being watched, or judged maybe, by her friends.” 

“Is she not usually quick to think of things?” The onlooker was obviously digging for information.

“It was a tinder date.” Nick spoke deliberately, without shame, even though there didn’t need to be.

“Ah… online,” the onlooker’s skepticism tried to effect a humorous reaction in Nick. It didn’t work.

“Here’s one!” 20 minutes later Nick stumbled across what looked like Nick's legs.

“Must’ve been some long walk,” the onlooker said.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Nick assumed he knew distance was not a factor, “this was the point where I realized we were going back to her place. I recognized the street, and all of a sudden my legs fell down the back of my pants.”

“She wasn’t having fun?” the onlooker stood in front of him with his hands folded over his waist, boxing out anybody who could see him reassembling his lower-half. 

“No, we took turns talking about ourselves” Nick was on the ground, shoving his limbs up his pant legs. “It had been so long since I walked around without both legs we both jumped.” 

“Share too much?” 

“Hard thing not to do when family comes up. Before I knew about it I was talking about my dad and my grandpa.” 

“Ooooh… grand-kid complex much?”

Nick stood back up, a little more himself, “it’s hard not to think about your expectations when everyone who loves you doesn’t understand how you can’t just find somebody. Anybody.” 

Onlooker tried to be reassuring, "it goes away after a few more."

Alright Mr. Ladies man" Nick jibed

“My ear!”

“Wow, you really stopped listening to her?” the onlooker could see his ear was missing, but had only just now made the connection as to why. "You sure you've dated?"

“She started talking about her major in Chinese,” Nick pleaded as he stuck on his ear as best he could, “it was all really complicated. Plus it was the one time she was talking the most.” 

"You feel like you were being talked at?"

"More like talked around. I don't think she ever noticed that it ever fell off. not everybody understands the transparency of insecurity"

"Aw poor baby," the onlooker found his hand in a bush nearby a lamp post.

"So I like to hold hands, what of it?" Nick was defensive as he took back his left hand. He was Smiling though, glad that this stranger had such a good understanding of how he worked. "I felt her enjoy it less than i thought. maybe it was because i had to reach up to get to her. I don't want to believe that shorter guys are a generic turn-off... but nothings convinced me otherwise you know?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with her

Nick had finally found the last piece of himself. his rib-cage.

"So you really are that skinny?" the onlooker said.

"You got a name joker?" Nick wanted to know who he was talking to. he was finally learning to laugh again.

"Darren" The onlooker was now more than so.

"Yeah that thin, and that much shorter."

"I've never seen that. my friend lost plenty of things, but never his ribs..." Darren trailed off hoping for an explanation.

"I'm not sure," Nick Genuinely pondered as he fixed his ribs back into his spine, "But it happened early on. I remember not believing that someone that pretty would be near me. she was tall, attractive, and just like her picture. It was there by the end of the show, but it fell off just as we walked past the edge of the crowd. she didn't see or hear it."

Darren looked a little more intrigued "oh, I think I get it."

"What?" Nick wondered if this new friend bout to reveal something important, or another joke.

"you don't want to be put together at all? do you?" Darren said.

"What? you don't know what you're talking about!" Nick was mildly offended, "I've been working on it! Better, stronger baths! I'm around people more! I'm taking public speaking! and I ain't bad either!" a list of similar explanations followed, "i'm adapting well. i'm falling apart less. I've made it 3 days without a complete restructuring!"

"And good for you," Darren was making a point now, "But you've been opening up to a stranger for the last two hours, and the minute you saw somebody who seemed interested in you, that - by the way - seemed too good to be true, your lungs lost their house."

Nick refused to accept this, "And what would've happened next? she was clearly put off by it. It's not like i'm losing pieces over you"

Darren let that answer hang in the air a little longer before responding, "you were in pieces when I found you. It's called intimacy you poor, poor boy."

"Look... I don't need this," Nick stormed off in a huff. His dorm was not that much farther. "I can be close to somebody without being a complete mess."

"I'm sure you can," Darren had to shout over their increasing distance "but she didn't think so!

Nick did not answer. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to stay together for her. For the one before her. For anybody. His various body parts were hanging on him like a mobile of anatomical origami, folded into unnatural shapes to remain clinging to each other.

He ran a bath with Premium Suture Salt. Watch, for I'm sure you have never seen this. He angrily starts tearing off, and chucking his pieces into the bath. His hair, his hands, his eyes, his legs; the bath eventually looked like a mud trap of human remains, both fresh and rotting. After long, you're wondering how one can continue to tear and throw their pieces after their structure is gone. No, he's not invisible. No, they're not ghosts. He's a person after all, but some things just don't have an answer. After several minutes, green and orange liquids start seeping out of the border of his floating components. It pools like cream on a latte, creating rippling shapes contrasting with the mud-brown of the solution. That's the muck, pain, and everyday life exiting the body. Before we know it, he's reassembling himself. It looks like a puzzle completing itself. Such fascinating creatures.

No longer angry, but disappointed, Nick left the bathroom with his towel - wrapped abound his structurally sound waist - down the coed dormitory hallway. Across the hall, a girl was similarly leaving the girls bathroom, also clearly done with her own hygienic ritual. It was normal at this point; the sexes understood the trivial nature of bathroom locations and made every effort to ignore each other as they passed by. It was a mandated path that discouraged interaction.

As he came close, however, he saw her cover her face quickly, but not quickly enough. from behind her palm, like a bad magic trick, her nose rolled down her towel and stumbled across the floor. He stopped to avoid her retrieval efforts, as she hunched over the nose. eventually she felt around with her bad hand, retrieved the nose, and gave Nick an embarrassed look.

Twice on the same night, his ribs fell out from under him.