Alex

After I’d scrubbed the Green Man out of my skin, Liz came round. I’d been thinking about her and Alex all weekend. Alex is Liz’s ex-boyfriend from Uni. They met on the first day of Freshers’ week and spent more or less every single day together for the next eight years. Things ended under difficult circumstances. Alex had been in India since before Liz and I met, and came home the day I left to go to the Green Man. I don’t understand all of the details, but Liz has explained that Alex is a fragile soul. Liz feared she might demolish him by explaining that she is seeing me now. Happiness isn’t a zero sum game – one person’s happiness shouldn’t mean someone else has to be unhappy – but Liz knows Alex, and was scared that the news was going to really hurt.

I was both eager to find out how everything had gone, and nervous because I was scared it had gone badly. And it had gone badly. Very badly. Liz was visibly upset. Quieter. Slower. Somehow far away and still by my side all at once. I felt bad because I wished that I could do more. But it isn’t about me. My sadness at not being able to help is tiny compared to how sad Liz is at hurting somebody that she has loved, and loves. No amount of my embraces, my kisses will make Liz feel better about the pain Alex is in. I want to be the one, “that looks on tempests and is never shaken.” I want to help. I don’t know if I can.

I’m worried.