Time to Change

Change is easy when you think about it.

Change is easy to talk about.

Change is always easier said than done.

Tim sat at the edge of his lonely bed and resolved to change yet again. This was not the first time and he had this sinking feeling even as he grit his teeth and promised himself and the world that this time would be different, this time he would change.

That sinking feeling was all too familiar. That sinking feeling was now a part of him, and yet it wasn’t, because he was sinking into the world around him. 

No one is separate to the world. They are the world and the world is them. Long ago, Tim had embraced the world in its totality. So deep was his acceptance that he no longer understood where he ended and the world began.

Nonetheless he would try.

Tim looked around his sparse surroundings and could not help but contrast them with the other bedroom that he still considered to be his. The bedroom he shared with Laura. The bedroom that was attached to the other rooms in their home and situated in a place that they had both searched long and hard for.

He found his face in his hands, unaware of how it was that he had slumped forward and given up even as his day had started. He rallied, rubbing his face and encouraging himself to stand up and face the world. He’d got so much right. He’d found Laura and they had found their place in the world. He could do this. He must do this.

So many people managed to land the important things in their lives and keep them going. That could not be an illusion. The weight of numbers provided the evidence that Tim needed to dispel any doubts he may have over the success of his venture.

Even in the face of overwhelming evidence, the doubt remained. That was how doubt worked. Doubt had a way of getting to the very heart of the matter and inviting Tim to unravel the threads it presented him, chief of which was that all those people got it right and held on. Tim had pushed on ahead and lost his way. Tim had to find his way back and he had to change. None of those people had experienced what Tim had, and none of those people had to change in the way that Tim needed to.

Tim’s change had to be conspicuous and it had to make sense to Laura. 

That there was a problem, because Tim inhabited a different world to Laura. He wasn’t sure how it had gotten this way, only that that was the reality of their existence. This troubled Tim because Laura had used those oft used words when a relationship hits the rocks.

“We’ve drifted apart, Tim.”

He’d looked up at her. His gaze had been upon the tepid surface of his coffee. He had feared the words that would come forth and he had not wanted to see their meaning. The coffee mug offered a sort of protection.

When the words came, they were not as awful as the many, many variations his fraught imagination had conjured up and thrust upon him. The words were innocuous, but this made them worse. 

Drifting apart wasn’t an issue. All Tim had to do was throw a rope over to Laura and then he could pull them together again. That was all that was needed. At least they hadn’t grown apart. That would have been hard work. Uprooting one or both of them from the rich earth they resided in and dragging them to a place where they might both grow together, all the while knowing that one or both of them may not take root at all and even as they struggled to thrive, they may wither and die.

The real meaning under those simple words was so far from them that it made them a lie, and a dangerous one at that. There was so much more to it, but then Laura’s meaning was clear when Tim thought on it. She was fine where she was and any change that was needed lay entirely with Tim, not her. She was staying put. Tim would need to do the work.

Tim didn’t need to book a consultation with his doubt to establish the gauntlet he was expected to run. He could do everything that was needed and arrive in the exact spot that he needed to, only for Laura to reject him. Still, he was going to try. They both knew that he would. 

“Nailing jelly to the wall,” Tim muttered to himself as he touched upon the futility of his quest.

Then he chuckled to himself. Even before he looked at his watch. His old fashioned, analogue watch with its three hands and the luxurious addition of the date. The date that only worked when the month was thirty one days long. The date that Tim may or may not attend to and correct a week or so into the next month, usually after he’d confused himself sufficiently to miss an appointment or deadline.

His watch confirmed what he already knew. He had awoken in the afternoon. This was the Tim of change was it? On the eve of his cataclysmic and monumental changes, he had slept in late and now he sat here in this dingy bedsit feeling sorry for himself.

“You sad bloody loser,” he spat the words at himself as he padded to the bathroom to wash off the worst of his sins in an attempt to face the remainder of the day in something like a fit state.

He cleaned his teeth, hoping that the toast and coffee he was going to eat by way of breakfast and lunch would help mask the small of stale booze on his breath. The last week had been a heady mix of celebration, commiseration and self-medication. He was anaesthetising himself against this place and his tawdry existence. 

Something needed to change.

Everything needed to change.

He dressed and then he ate. He brushed the crumbs from his front. When did that start? He couldn’t even eat without making a mess of it. It were as though the remnants of his food was attracted to him. Knew him for what he was. A mess.

Leaving the bedsit he walked.

Walking away was natural. That place reminded him of how far he had fallen. It reminded him of what he had lost. It dragged him down further.

He walked and he walked. He knew that were he to stop walking he would end up in a pub and he’d have demolished his first pint before he registered he was there. It wasn’t that he was an alcoholic, although he was under no illusions that he had a foot in that camp. It was because this was the Festive Season and it was a time for family and friends.

Tim’s friends were with their families.

Tim was now his own, singular family unit. He had very few options and he’d done well not to gravitate to the pubs where the friends he had who were in similar boats to him dropped anchor and sat at port to wait the storm out.

He had time to kill. Laura had accepted his novel invite, but they were not meeting until nine this evening. She had drawn the line at dinner. Dinner was too intimate and Tim could not be afforded that level of intimacy, nor the hope that went with it. There had been too many false starts. Tim had promised again and again, yet he had not delivered. 

This was the last chance saloon, and in order for Tim to make it work, he would have to avoid any other saloons, whilst also avoiding the depressing place that he laid his hat.

He resolved to seek out a place to eat. Doing so on the hoof was a challenge. Most places were booked out. In the end, he found a pub that was doing food and he made a point of ordering a glass of red wine. Just the one glass. Large.

As he ate his final supper, he thought about what it was that he was embarking upon. He had sought to change so many times, even as change was foisted upon him. He had accepted that he needed to change. He wanted things to work between himself and Laura, and so he had left their home to embark upon this quest. The sacrifice and degradation was symbolic and it was also necessary for him to transform. He eschewed all he had worked for and embraced a pared down and simple life, but when he looked at it for what it was, all he could see was loss and as he looked upon that loss he despaired and he wondered how it was that he had gotten here.

The steak he ate was half decent. Good for the place he had found and at a reasonable price. He barely tasted his food as he thought about what it was that he must do. He had found himself in a world that he rejected, even as he felt the pain of his own rejection. He understood at last that he needed to find solid ground upon which to stand. He understood that he was indeed drifting, that he was adrift, and without a referent point he was lost and would remain lost.

“No wonder I have failed so many times,” he said to himself as he drank some of his wine.

The wine was good. The taste of it broke through his reverie and he savoured it. There were good things in this world of his and that was enough. He had to ground himself. He had to be a part of the world he was in and then he could move forward. He had not taken the time to work out where he was, let alone who he was, and in that chaos he had promised Laura things that he could not get anywhere near delivering. His intentions had been good. He had wanted to get out of the mess he was in, he just hadn’t worked out how he would do that. He’d put in the required effort all the same, only it had amounted to naught, worse than naught as he disappointed Laura and felt the pain of that disappointment add to his burden.

This time would be different. He could feel it and for the very first time he felt himself relax and in relaxing he became at one with himself. He wondered whether he was more in the world or less in it, but in the end, did that matter? 

*

“Hi.”

“Hello,” he said in reply as Laura joined him at the table, “I bought you a rioja. I hope that’s OK?”

Laura nodded and forced a smile.

Tim remained impassive, not reacting to that smile. Forced smiles were the worst. They said so much and they took so much as they said it.

Then began the seemingly gentle battle. Weaponised small talk. Tim got it. He’d cried wolf. The wolf was there, they both knew it, but then he’d brought it with him again and again. Now Laura was scared and she was hurt too, so not only did Tim have to change in order to be in the world Laura occupied, he had to change so that he was not a threat. He had to be safe and inviting and he could not talk about the changes he was making because they frightened him and it was unfair to lay that before this woman.

He talked about the highlights of his life as though they were the entirety of his life. He pulled out anecdotes and funny stories and after half an hour of defence, Laura eventually laughed.

That laugh entered Tim in a way few things had in this past year. The sound of it excited him and the sight of Laura laughing thrilled him and gave him a hope that he had not had in such a long time. This was how it had been and this had been his reason for living. She had been the reason. Laura had been his world. He had done all the things he had in her name, and for her. To see her relax in his company and enjoy herself was reward enough. It was more than enough.

That laughter was a gateway and Tim gently stepped through it and towards a future that he desired. After a half hour that had dragged, time now accelerated and they were taking their seats in the theatre before he knew it.

Tim had thought that the focus of a play would take the pressure off them both. That they could talk for a little while and then have this time in each other’s company but without them being the focal point. Now he regretted this strategy of his because it had been going so well and he wanted it to keep going.

They called it the midnight showing, but it started before that. Midnight would come and go somewhere in the midst of the production. They did this for those who did not want to pop corks and cheer and sing Auld Lang Syne, they did it for those who did not want to make a big deal of the death of another year and the birth of another. An arbitrary measurement of the passing of time and a ridiculous resolve to change that would never be fulfilled.

Tim sighed as the curtains opened. He sighed and he wondered why he was here, then he felt Laura’s hand slip into his own and he knew exactly why he was here.

The play was fun and entertaining and Tim found himself drawn in. There was escapism here, but mostly he was living in the moment and that was a part of what he knew he must do. He had focused far too much on what would be and he had lost sight of what was.

All too soon the intermission was upon them. He had thought, he had remembered and he had planned ahead, booking them drinks in advance. Laura stood to join the throng already heading to the bar and looked askance at Tim when he did not join her in standing.

“Our drinks are being brought to our seats,” he said, and he grinned at Laura’s surprised face.

She sat back down, “you’ve thought of everything.”

“I wish,” he said dryly, “but I thought ahead on this one thing. Means we can relax and not spend all our time in a queue.”

“True,” she said, and as though on cue, a young lad brought them two flutes of fizz.

“Cheers,” said Tim.

“To new beginnings,” said Laura in reply, bringing the flute to her lips and eyeing him meaningfully as she did so.

The shock of her words almost froze him and he felt the beat of his heart, loud and slow. He did not dare to interpret those words that meant something for him, but he was brave enough to ask, “really?”

Laura took the glass from her mouth to reveal a smile that was all the answer Tim needed.

They kissed.

They kissed a kiss that started as a reconciliation and quickly became a promise. Neither of them noticed the seats around them filling and only the start of the play broke the spell they were both under.

Tim breathed deeply as his gaze returned to the red curtains. This was change. This was real. This time he would do everything he could to make it stick. There was no going back.

He sat in the darkness of the theatre and he waited with baited breath for the curtains to fall back and reveal the second part of the play. Time slowed and made him wait longer than it had any right to. The dizzying feeling of that kiss and everything it meant did not fall from him and he did not relax, he was filled with anticipation and the unease of what awaited him. It was a long road back, and he knew that he could not get carried away, but slowly he began to realise that his growing anxiety was nothing to do with that revelatory kiss and everything to do with those curtains.

A disembodied voice broke into the silence of the auditorium, “ladies and gentlemen, the curtains will open for the second half of tonight’s performance upon the stroke of midnight. Please, count down with us. Ten…”

No!

Tim tensed and grabbed the arms of his chair as the audience counted down. He glanced at Laura, but she did not feel his gaze and she did not turn her face, enraptured as she was by the countdown. He afforded himself a lingering look at her as though for the very last time…

…and then the curtains opened.

The curtains opened and Tim stared with disbelief at a completely different set. A male actor stormed onto the stage and was swiftly joined by a woman playing his wife and the audience reacted as though they were greeting old friends.

All the audience excepting Tim. He sat in terror as the world around him changed once again. Just as he was coming to grips with the last one, it would change. All of it. He turned slowly towards Laura and in the darkness he drew comfort that she was there, only it wasn’t the Laura of moments ago. How could it be? She was a product of this world. A completely new world that Tim had just one year to come to grips with.

Tim made the same promise he always made on this first day of a new year, he would do everything he could to change. 

Again.