"What's her name?" Nin asked.
     
     Bread popped up from the toaster at the sound of a bell. I set the pieces on a plate and handed it to her.
     

     "Sorry. I haven't got much else," I apologized.
     "This is fine, thanks."
     "Would you like--."
     She took a bite and shook her head, "Dry is fine."
     I put two more slices down in the toaster for myself.
     "Who?"
     "Who what?"
     "What's whose name?"
     "Oh. What's your girlfriend's name?"
     "Oh. Uh--," I faltered, "Emily."
     "Emily is a pretty name."
     "Yeah. Common."
     "Common?" Nin was taken aback, "That isn't a nice thing to say about the name of someone you love."
     "What is it with you and names, anyway?"
     I lifted my toast from the toaster. Nin rested against the kitchen counter.
     "I don't have a thing with names. You started it."
     "How did I start it?" I argued, annoyed.
     She paused then murmured, "You said that you liked my name."
     I slathered the toast with peanut butter and refused to look up at Nin as I spoke. I spoke directly to the bread.
     "Emily and I have been together two years. Sometimes we live together and sometimes we won't talk to each other, or rather, she won't speak to me but that's alright because it's my fault."
     "Are you living together now?"
     "No."
     "So you aren't speaking?"
     "Not really. No."
     "For how long?"
     "A few days. A week."
     "And it's your fault?"
     "Yeah."
     "It's not always your fault, Lee. Sometimes it's her fault for coming back when she knows better."
     "Is that supposed to be a comfort?"
     "You're angry?"
     "Yes."
     "I make you angry a lot."
     "I've noticed."
     "What is it about me that makes you angry?"
     "It's all of the fucking questions. It's fucking annoying--," I seethed. When I looked up at her I found her expression to be perfectly stoic.
     "Does she know about Ian?"
     I tore a bite out of the toast with my teeth.
     "Jesus! You are extremely challenging."
     "That's why I make you mad?"
     "Yes," I exasperated. I released an easy breath when I realized that was what about her put fire in my blood-- what caused me to uncontrollably emote.
     "No one challenges you? Like, no one asks you questions?"
     I begun to eat with ease. 
     "None that matter. Most people either have extreme affection or extreme dislike for me. Neither of those lead to honest enquiries."
     "I challenge you because I'm not one way or the other?"
     "I wish that I could push you one way or the other. Then I'd know how to deal with you."
     "You can plant seeds but you can't force them to grow. The only thing that you can do is give them a little water and wait it out."
     "Now who is wise?"
     "Did I ever call you wise?" She smirked.
     "Have I ever called you patient?" I countered. I reached into the refrigerator and pulled out two beers, "Twenty years old and death hangs about her."
      Nin took the beer from my hand and popped the top of the can.
     "Are you in love with Emily?"
     "It's difficult to distinguish between love and the comfort of what is familiar."
     "That could be the most terrible thing that I've ever heard anyone say."
     "It could be the most honest thing that you've heard anyone say and you shouldn't act surprised by it."
     A heavy silence beset us. Communication was replaced with ordinary noises; food being chewed and pushed around through a moist mouth. The hard exaggerated swallow of someone who is conscious of their swallowing and willing that the other party should not hear it. Beer bubbling against the inside of a can and the almost inaudible tinkling of crumbs falling to a china plate.
     Nin interrupted the silence when I wasn't about to.
     "Do you have a bathroom?"
     I looked at her with lifted brow. It was an absurd question.
     "'Round the corner."
     She made a slow unsteady weave out of the kitchen.
     There was not much of interest about my flat to me or anyone else.
     It had a roof, hardwood floors and was depressingly under lit. When one walked in there was a narrow white hallway that went on for several feet, on the right, a doorway led to the kitchen. The kitchen barely had enough standing room for two and was little more than a sink, stove and refrigerator built into a countertop. The hallway and kitchen both opened up to the main living area which was really just a lamp and mattress on the floor, an acoustic guitar in the corner, crates of records, a television on top of a gutted speaker cabinet and a suitcase that opened up into a record player with a detachable speaker.
     There was a sort of closet with an orange curtain instead of a door-- in it all of my clothes hung on hangers, I didn't have drawers to put anything into.
     The opposite wall had an empty bookshelf built into it. There were piles of papers and notebooks scattered about.
     Around the corner, diagonal from the kitchen was the bath.
     I only had the flat and held onto it so that I would have a place to go between tours and when Emily kicked me out. All of my gear was in a practice studio I rented a few blocks down the road and due to the chaos that I inflicted upon my life, I had long before absolved myself of anything of value. In my quest to have little to worry about-- I had left myself with very little.
     Even sentimental things like photographs remained in an old box at my parents' house.
     I had a kind of rule about the flat; no one was allowed in it except me-- and I had adhered to the rule strongly. I couldn't always be certain of the sanity of the women that I slept with so having them know where I lived was out. Emily's place was well kept and livable. I spent so much time there that it wasn't necessary to bring her to mine and any friends that I had could just as easily meet me in the practice studio so there was no point in having them over.
     The flat was mine and mine alone, a boring hovel that was not to be tainted by anyone else's moods.
     Nin was the only other person who had been there in the year that I'd had it and Nin was only there because-- I was still trying to reason with myself as to why Nin was there.
     I'd made my way to the living room by the time Nin had come out of the bathroom. She was smelling her hand.
     "You have nice soap," She said.
     "Thanks. I think I stole it from a hotel."
     "You'll have to tell me which one."
     "Oh, I can't remember. Doesn't matter, though. We aren't planning on living long enough to get another. Just take the one that's in there."
     "So I should steal from you what you've already stole?"
     "It would serve me right, wouldn't it? If it would make you feel any better I could give it to you."
     She closed her eyes and shook her head.
     "It's late. I should go back to my hotel. You'll come for me in the morning?"
     "I'll walk with you."
     "No," She refused.
     "I don't think that you should be walking anywhere alone-- I actually don't think that you should be anywhere alone at this time."
     "It doesn't matter," Nin wobbled then opened her eyes. I gave her a gentle smile.
     "You're drunk."
     "Yeah," She admitted.
     "We can stay here," I offered, "I can sleep on the floor or we can sleep top to tail, you know--umm-- opposite ends."
     "What about your--."
     I felt almost sad for some reason.
     "She doesn't--," I stopped myself, "It doesn't matter right now."
     "I'm dizzy," She placed a hand at her head, "What's wrong with me?"
     "You drank too much."
     "No, not the drink. There's something wrong with me. Something wrong with--me. Some reason that someone wouldn't want me. That he wouldn't want me-- that I'm missing. That I can't think of but what? What did I do wrong? And why did he even want me in the first place then? It doesn't make sense. He left and that doesn't make sense and he loved me and that doesn't make sense either... and I'm trying to think. I'm trying so hard but I can't think of anything else. I can't let it go and I want to let it go. But I. Can't."
     "You're speaking in circles."
     "Even here with you, I can't think of anything but what happened... why? why?"
     Tears spilled from her eyelids. She clawed at her throat.
     I reached out and took her hand from her neck.
     "Stop that," I directed her head towards my shoulder and wrapped and arm around her, "You're okay."
     "I am not okay!" She shrieked, hysterically.
     I steadied my grasp to stifle any fight she had in her.
     "Nin--"
     She continued to cry.
     "Nin--"
     She cried harder and in a way that seemed to completely unnerve me.
     "Nin--please listen to me--Listen," I spoke above her ear, "You are safe. Nothing can hurt you here. Your problems are across the sea and as long as you stick with me-- I won't let your head hurt you. I won't let you hurt yourself."
     "I'm not well," her words were clear. Her crying had calmed a bit, "I wish I were like other girls--"
     There was an ache just above my stomach.
     "Ah--other girls are boring--but you-- you are the most tragic character that I've ever met and I'm older than you are. I've met more characters--"I pulled away from her. There was very little eye makeup left to run but her skin was puffed up and red, "You cry more than any person that I know."
     Her glassy eyes offered up apology.
    "I'm not always like this."
    "I believe you."
    "I want to get better."
    "I believe that, too."
    "I don't know how to get better."
    "Let me look after you tonight."
    I glanced around the room for where the words had come from before realizing it had been my own mouth.
     Nin took a step back from me, her face was not so much fear as confusion.
     I didn't wait for response from her. I wanted to explain myself.
    "I'm not a healthy person. I'm a pretty unhappy person. That lends itself to a certain level of-- self-centeredness. I'm not responsible for anyone or anything, really. I've put myself in a position where I don't have to be. Those who feel extreme affection for me tend to provide me with my needs and more than. What they want from me a lot of times is so undefined that I don't have it to give to them so there's not much in the way of disappointment or obligation-- even Emily, she comes back to me because she can't stay away from me-- she believes me to be better than I am or capable of being better than I am. She's so comfortable with me-- with the pain and the chaos-- she doesn't want to change-- to risk being alone because she knows how to work with this-- and I'm in it because it is the closest thing to genuine affection that I have from anyone and where else am I going to go? I do love her-- in a way. I don't know if it's how you're supposed to love someone but it's the only way that I know how to love anyone-- and part of me thinks that maybe she's sort of in love with the idea of what I do than what I am," I leaned down slightly so my eyes were at Nin's level, "A leather jacket and a shag haircut."
     Her lips parted slightly and she drew in breath.
     "I don't understand. Why take care of me?"
     "Because I've never had to look after anyone before. Because my heart knows I can and because if I get you strong tonight maybe you'll do the same for me tomorrow-- or soon enough," I paused, "Has anyone ever really looked after you, Nin?"
     She sniffled; shook her head, "No."
     "Me neither."
     "Then who could contest such an offer-- but it feels like pity."
     "It's not."
     "I'll do the same for you-- if I can, Lee. If I'm not still falling apart."
     I shook my head.
     "Don't think about it and don't think about getting better just--just let me try to do this."