Algorithms of a Break Up (previously published in Bound Off)
I’ve attempted to re-create it, if that’s the correct word. I’m not sure about the terminology. I mean, I’m trying to basically de-construct the destruction or maybe reverse-engineer it. I don’t know. I mean can an event, a past event, be reverse-engineered or de-constructed? I’m going to attempt it. I have to.
Okay, it’s just that I have the memory intact. Analyzable data, I think, right? And the conditions, I’ve re-created the conditions exactly, well not exactly, I mean she’s not here anymore, okay, I’ve accepted that, but that’s what I’m trying to correct, her absence. I have the porcelain cup, or an exact copy of it, slight alteration, some chalk dust coating the surface, to track the shards when it breaks. And the corner wall, the same as before, only painted black now instead of beige, again so I can track the shatter patterns and Hanako, I mean not the real Hanako, a simulated Hanako, for testing purposes, not a My Doll, a simulation, right.. All necessary, so necessary to change it, I just need enough evidence, that’s all. She’ll see, I think she’ll see.
Okay, slow down now, remember, re-create everything in my mind right up to the exit point. Me over there in the yellow leather lounge chair facing the television, watching Naruto. My glasses, a little too round, maybe, they make my nose look pointy, but their expensive, bookworm chic. My hair gelled back to hide the thinning, still stylish, dark brown with blond streaks. My hairstylist does well for himself. I’m lounging, so my tall lanky body is adorned in casuals, a long sleeved checkered cotton shirt, chambray and white, faded Edwin jeans, and Patagonia socks, grunge without the heroin or the smell and with a better haircut. Okay, that part is in place. Oh yes, the cup, the green porcelain cup resting lightly in my hand. Set.
Okay, now for her, she’s gone now, but I’ve accepted, focus Anthony. Okay, Hanako standing in the atrium to the left of the corner wall now painted black to track the shards. She’s Goth tonight, ready to go out. Black, over dyed black straight hair, long past her shoulders, white face, big brown eyes, round for a Japanese, black V-neck sweater, black lace bra, black leather riding jacket, Mine, too big for her, black leather mini-skirt, fishnet leggings, white, thigh high leather boots. Hanako’s slouching slightly, chewing purple bubble gum, annoyed and bored. “She’s just a beautiful emotional doll, a wind chime, so fragile.” Okay, set.
Okay, conversation, remembering. First our tone, yes tone of voice is critical here, the words and the tone of voice are the, were the, (I’ve accepted this), catalyst. Okay, so, the conversation, remember it.
Me: I’m watching this.
Hanako: I wanna go out to Oddbar’s, or The Chicken Nest, anywhere.
Me: You knew I wanted to watch Naruto tonight. I told you I was going to watch it.
Hanako: We never go dancing anytime. It been two months ago since last time.
Me: Anymore. It’s been two months since the last time, and you’re wrong. We went to Shiro’s Shooters Club on the fourteenth, twenty days ago.
Oh shit, the lighting. Okay, pause the conversation. Check everything carefully. Something’s not right, look closely. The kitchen, it’s too bright. Dim the lights, okay yes, Tokyo Tower through the window in the background, Yamada English School’s neon sign burning across the street, perfect. Now back to the conversation. Let it unwind again and go.
Hanako: I have sex with Jake last week.
Me: What did you just say?
Hanako: We do it twice. I’m sorry Anthony.
Okay, not okay, okay, memories intact, set, focus do the re-creation, you need the shards, need to track, this is the evidence, okay. Sit in the lounge chair, face the television, hold the cup lightly in your hand, review the conversation one more time. Okay, slight memory slip, Hanako in her schoolgirl’s uniform, me receiving a spanking, focus Anthony.
Hanako: We do it twice. I’m sorry Anthony.
And raise your eyes from the television, tighten your body, slow your breathing, look towards the atrium where she is, (was), the Hanako My Doll is, raise the cup to an eighty-seven-degree angle, snap your arm forward, and let the cup go. Okay, it shattered against the wall, get out of your chair, go to the wall, note the chalk marks from the shards and measure. Damn, marks on Hanako, I mean the My Doll. It still looks intentional, just an accident. Damn.
Back to the memory for a comparison, original cup thrown above and to the right of her head, it shatters, Hanako ducks (possibly reflectively), she stands back up, looks towards me, there’s a small cut on her cheek, some blood, fear in her eyes, she turns, opens the door and leaves the apartment.
Stop memory. Back to the analysis, let’s see, facts so far, errant shard of porcelain cuts her cheek, okay, I mean it was an anomaly if I can re-create it, show her, I mean prove to her, right, an accidental shard, I didn’t mean to hurt her. She just needs to see it.