Me Again Read Online Free PDF Page A

again falling into the habit of remaining silent around somebody who can’t talk – I got that a lot in those days.
    I continued. IT’S GOOD THAT YOU MOVED ON. WOULDN’T WANT TO KEEP YOU FROM BEING HAPPY. I’LL BE OK .
    This latest passage relieved her considerably, I could tell. Again she unleashed her dazzling smile.
    Encouraged by this, I added, THE NEW GUY – HOPE HE TREATS YOU WELL . That looked pretty stupid, but I went ahead and showed it to her. Hey, you try to be a witty conversationalist under these conditions.
    Victoria continued to smile, although she dialed it down a notch. “Yes,” she said. “He’s really good to me. He’s... well, I guess you could say he’s a lot like you. Well, a lot like you were. Oh, God, I didn’t mean—"
    I waved a hand, trying to curtail her embarrassment. I was getting used to the idea that I was not the man I used to be. It seemed everybody I met found some way to make that point painfully clear.
    IT’S OK , I wrote again. REALLY.
    Victoria’s smile began to return as she read this. So I concluded with I’LL BE FINE .
    This was evidently enough to satisfy Victoria. With that bit of unpleasantness out of the way, she abruptly moved on to the good news portion of her visit. She stood, and swiveled her torso back and forth, giving me a variety of angles on her extremely curvaceous body.
    “Do you notice anything different about me?” she asked, her voice now taking on a teasing tone. Gone was any remorse or even concern. In its place was a little girl proud of some new acquisition or accomplishment. But what was it? Had she lost weight? Changed her hair?
    Floundering, I pointed my pencil towards the top of the pad, where I’d written YOU LOOK GREAT . This was a trick I had learned from extensive communication in this manner: every now and then you can recycle a remark.
    This time Victoria waved a hand, as if to say oh, I know that, silly . Lowering her voice, she said, “I finally got them done.” She smiled conspiratorially, then arched her back. My eyes focused on the most conspicuous feature of her anatomy. Both of them.
    “You know, like we always talked about. I finally went ahead and did it. They came out great, don’t you think?” She offered me several more angles of perspective. Unsure of proper protocol for commenting on the aesthetic qualities of one’s ex-girlfriend’s breasts, I remained silent, and tried to smile appreciatively.
    Victoria’s face grew more serious. “It’s something I did for myself. You know, part of my moving on. I had to cope with losing you, so I wanted to do something nice for myself and kind of make a fresh start, you know? So I guess you could say they’re kind of symbolic.”
    I was still at a stage where I tired easily, and I was finding the introduction and subsequent removal of a girlfriend a bit overwhelming. The addition of her new-and-improved bosom and the philosophy that accompanied it were enough to push me over the edge. I yawned.
    The yawn brought back Serious And Concerned Victoria (yes, I had already begun adding subtitles to her facial expressions – please pardon my cynicism), and she said, “Oh, you’re probably tired. This had to be an awful strain on you. I just needed to see you, you know, to get this off my chest.” She giggled, realizing how chest-centric our meeting had become.
    She patted my hand. “I better get going. But maybe I can, I don’t know, visit you again sometime. You know, next time I’m in town. I take the train down here every now and then...”
    Her voice trailed off, and I assumed she was reconsidering whether additional visits were really such a good idea. Not wanting to prolong this conversation, I faked another yawn and let my eyes droop, a technique I’d picked up for speeding up the endless interviews my doctors put me through.
    Victoria took the hint. “I’ll go now,” she said. “You take care. And Jon, I’m really sorry about everything, but I’m so glad