not that it matters

that first night when I was
still oblivious, when I still
believed in faithful women
and love and identity, and she
hadn't been home and
she wouldn't answer her phone
and I paced the cockroach apartment
back and forth, hoping she would call.
the sick in my throat, wondering if she
had been hurt ...
or maybe she didn't love me anymore.
or maybe she just couldn't be bothered.
I threw up in the toilet with my arms
wrapped around the bowl. I was jittery
from stress and I felt my bowels clench.
I was young and from another part of the
country where people still had sense enough
to call and make up a story even if it was
just to pacify the other.
I swear I saw the roaches laughing like they
had the mark
              on an
           inside
                  joke.
and her cat curled up in the corner and
gave me a glance that said I was too
ignorant to see, that I would get to know
what it was all about, all too soon.
                I tried to lay
down.
         I tried to sleep. I had to be at
work in a couple of hours and she was
                   still
                        out.
the ceiling swirled above and crept down
and threatened to flatten me and I breathed hard
and felt my heart clatter against my ribs and there
was sweat across my face.
                 I thought I
heard
            someone on the
stairs outside. I jumped out of bed
and ran into the living room and looked out
past the blinds, but it was the neighbor
              coming home  
                                  late.
                 I bet she called her
other and let
him know she was going to be late.
                     I sat on the floor.
            I was overwhelmed
    and
                         shaking.
I threw up again and washed my face in the sink
and stared at the mirror to make sure I was still
                    my
                        self.
then I heard the keys rattle against the lock and the tears
came and my vision was blurry
                                                  as she walked in.
and I was so happy, I jumped up and hugged her
                   and she looked at me strange and pushed me
                                                away.
     "what the fuck's
               the matter with you?"
             she asked.
"I was worried about you," I said.
                 "stop being such a pussy," she said.
"it's four o'clock in the morning," I said. "you didn't call."
                 "and?" she asked, brushing me off.
"I thought maybe you were hurt or something."
                 "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."
"I know," I said, "but I was freaking out. I thought
that you had got into an accident."
                 "you're acting like a girl." she laughed.
"you're being hurtful," I said.
                 "not to anyone I care about," she replied.