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Mark Cohen

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[at the hospital.] [31 Dec 2005|01:13am]
Mark sat out in the waiting room of the ER of the nearby hospital. Alone. Not many people were out at the hospital, especially at this hour of the night. That surprised him. He had his and Roger's bags on the chair next to his. The nurses had given him a few towels with which he proceeded to clean himself up with. Those sat in a pile by his feet. His coat was rather ruined.

To think that was his favorite coat. His only coat. He supposed he would have to deal without it.

Even though Roger kept on insisting Mark get his injury checked out, Mark said he was quite alright and that Roger needed more medical attention.

That had been an hour ago. Mark decided to sit out in the waiting room. Roger had to get stitches. Mark didn't want to see that. At all. He was always the rather squeamish type. Maybe that was partially the reason why he didn't want doctors looking at him as well.

After a few minutes of looking at the linoleum floor, he looked about the small room, searching for some indication of the time. He spotted a clock on the far-off wall. He squinted. It read a bit after one in the morning.

And then he remembered.

It was his birthday.

"Happy birthday to me," he mumbled, sighing and leaning back in his chair.

Shortly after, he fell asleep.
7 #leave a message at the tone

[30 Dec 2005|10:14pm]
[ mood | blank ]

Oh. I nearly forgot.



My birthday's tomorrow.

6 #leave a message at the tone

[30 Dec 2005|10:09pm]
[ mood | aggravated ]

I'm not liking this Tom fellow one bit.

leave a message at the tone

[locked from onesong___glory] [30 Dec 2005|12:23pm]
[ mood | pessimistic ]

I really hope Rodge just comes home.

4 #leave a message at the tone

[at tom's loft.] [28 Dec 2005|01:11pm]
Mark was tired. It was the early morning, and he hadn't slept in the past day or so. But he couldn't even begin to get comfortable enough to fall sleep in a strange, new place.

He settled for watching Roger sleep instead. With all the coughing, he figured that Roger would wake up once or twice, but to his surprise, he just rolled over and buried his face in the pillow, finally letting go of his hand in the process.

And then Mark figured, what the hell. The bed is big enough, anyway. And it didn't matter much if he got sick. He was sick all the time already.

He slipped his boots off and then his jacket, and left them on the floor next to the bed, curling himself up in the empty space next to Roger, still watching over him as he slept.

The warmth of the loft caught him offguard. Then he remembered he wasn't at home. The warmth was comforting, lulling.

Eventually, his eyelids felt heavier than usual, and his glasses found their way next to the glass of orange juice on the nightstand.

Maybe Roger would come home after this episode was done and over with. It would be nice. If Roger were home, then everything would be okay, and Mark wouldn't have to worry from a distance anymore. Worrying sure did take a lot of energy.

I'll just close my eyes for a minute...

But Mark wound up falling fast asleep, his head on the pillow next to Roger's.
35 #leave a message at the tone

[27 Dec 2005|04:28pm]
[ mood | happy ]

I really like the scarf Maureen gave me. It was so thoughtful of her. And it's incredibly special because she made it for me herself... I was thinking that Mom would be the only one who would ever think of doing something like that for me.

It's time to retire the old scarf, I think. I'll keep it somewhere for posterity's sake. I've been wearing it for years. Maybe put it away with the one Nanette gave me.

I'm glad Maureen liked her presents. I was so nervous that she wouldn't. Silly of me, I know, but still. Sometimes I can't help the way I feel.

3 #leave a message at the tone

[locked from everyone] [25 Dec 2005|01:28am]
[ mood | jealous ]

Roger's room is empty.

It's really weird.

His room is... never empty. At least, not during the night.

I was always jealous of Roger's ability to just fall asleep and stay that way. He could sleep soundlessly throughout the entire night, caught in some deep sleep full of dreams or not, it didn't matter to him.

Me, on the other hand -- I'm the one who wakes up every hour or so, the one who doesn't dream or always seems to have horrible nightmares, the one who frequently pulls all-nighters just lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, the one who sometimes would just... open Roger's door and peer in at him as he lay curled up on his side, a pillow hugged tightly to his chest. Bastard. What I would do for a good night's sleep.

I wonder how he's sleeping over there.

leave a message at the tone

[locked from onesong___glory & dance_her_tango] [25 Dec 2005|12:37am]
[ mood | melancholy ]

It's rather late. I just got in.

Amidst all the moping and drinking and general angst, I forgot that I hadn't gotten my holiday shopping done. On short notice, and with not much cash, I did as best as I could. Thank goodness. I would've felt horrible if I was the only one without gifts to give.

Most of all, I hope Maureen likes her present. I looked around and put a lot of thought into what I got her.

There's been no word from Rodge. Well, he said he wouldn't call, but I've been expecting him to just... show up at the door to the loft since that phone conversation. I can say that he hasn't. Yet.

Maybe he'll never come back. There's always the chance. I can't believe him.

Merry Christmas. Here's to another year.

leave a message at the tone

[locked from onesong___glory] [22 Dec 2005|01:21am]
[ mood | distressed ]

He's gone and run off again. I can't believe him.

4 #leave a message at the tone

[locked from control_freak_j & dance_her_tango] [16 Dec 2005|08:25am]
[ mood | thoughtful ]

I was never really jealous of Joanne. I've never had any ill feelings towards her. I guess being able to vent about Maureen with each other that one time at the performance space cancelled out any horrible things I might've thought/said about her. Who knew tangoing could bring "enemies" together like that? Thanks, Nanette.

I really hope things sort of... close out between Maureen and Joanne. I know that Maureen's more than beside herself at the moment. And I know exactly how she feels. Come to think of it, I know how Joanne feels, too. Heck, I've been in a whole lot of situations in the past similar to theirs. They should know that. Oh, the irony.

2 #leave a message at the tone

[locked from everyone] [15 Dec 2005|02:28pm]
[ mood | nostalgic ]

Regarding a Ms. Nanette Himmelfarb (if that's what her last name even is anymore).

Every once in a while, an individual has no choice but to bring on their own misery by digging deep into the dark recesses of their mind just to recover bits and scraps of memories of old relationships.

Don't ask why. It just happens. The slightest instance could trigger this action. A song playing in a department store or on the radio... a keepsake box you find under the bed or shoved in the back of a closet...

If one was to go snooping in the closet, the small one in the corner of my bedroom, they would find a whole mess of things. A few articles of clothing (on hangers, of course). Shoes on the floor. Some books. Other miscellaneous possessions. But look in the back and they would find a rather plain and smallish shoebox, the one with the crushed lid.

No one really knows much about the Mark Cohen pre-Bohemia. Actually, they know absolutely nothing. Not one thing, except for the basics. "He's this Jew from Scarsdale. Wants to be a filmmaker. Blah blah blah." That's all they seem to know. What they don't know is that in that shoebox are all the things he's ever received from Nanette Himmelfarb, childhood friend and almost-wife. Almost. Emphasis on that part.

She was the Rabbi's daughter. Lived a few houses down from me and my family back in Scarsdale. Lived there from the day she was born, some time in September, about three months before my 1st birthday).

We were friends from the very beginning. It was one of those cases in which the families of the kids in question were the best of pals and always insisted on being in each others' business. We were close. Incredibly close.

I was in many ways responsible for Nanette ever since she started school. Walked her to school on her first day of kindergarten, made sure everything went well. Always was parental to a degree.

She taught me how to tango just weeks before my Bar Mitzvah. Mom insisted I learn how to do something somewhat productive. Something that would make me a "well-rounded young man". I completely hated it at first, but my excuses didn't stop Nanette from teaching me. After that first afternoon...

I had tripped over her feet and fallen to the floor, bringing her with me. And one thing led to another and she kissed me. We didn't think much of it, but still. She kissed me. And I kept wanting to spend more time with her. And vice-versa.

We were "an item" throughout high school. Cohen & Himmelfarb. Completely inseperable. The ideal couple. Never fought, never frowned, always together... Nanette was the reason I started in photography. Well, not the whole reason, but part of it. The old 35mm I have stashed away in the closet was a birthday present from her my sophmore year.

We thought that we would be together. Forever. One of those "soulmate"-type things. We entertained the idea of getting married more than once. She was the kind of girl Mom would love to have around. But when I graduated high school... That all changed.

I was accepted to Brown. I would have to leave Scarsdale. Leave Nanette. Instead of keeping the relationship long-distance... she dumped me. Cheated on me, even. At least, that's what she wanted me to think. I know she lied. She lied to detach herself from me as easily as possible.

Some of the details are blurry, fuzzy even. I can't remember much. The box is hiding under my bed now for future reference.

leave a message at the tone

[12 Dec 2005|06:53pm]
[ mood | numb ]

I'll be just fine pretending I'm not. I'm far from lonely, and it's all that I've got.

2 #leave a message at the tone

[08 Dec 2005|10:26pm]
[ mood | blank ]

You learn something new every day.

1 #leave a message at the tone

[locked from onesong___glory] [06 Dec 2005|11:45pm]
[ mood | depressed ]

I'll admit I'm not the type of person prone to make mistakes.

But last night I did. I made a mistake. Mark Cohen made a mistake! Let's make sure everyone knows about it, okay?

I let my best friend down. My roommate. Roger. I didn't think it would be a big deal, but it turned out to be much more than, well, a big deal.

Maureen and I didn't mean to be late for the gig. Not at all. It just wound up that way. Pure stupidity and selfishness on our part.

I apologized, like any decent person would do. We both apologized, actually. But I guess I was the one who fucked up royally this time.

I've heard Roger yell, sure. But I hadn't heard him yell like that before. And the things he yelled at me... in front of tons of people... in public... And the things he yelled at Maureen. We all know Roger has a problem with her. It's understandable. But I couldn't tolerate it. I wanted to hit him. So badly. Stop his senseless, vulgar talking.

I cried instead.

Last night made me start thinking about a whole mess of things. Episodes like that normally do.

After all I've done for him over the past five years or so, I mess up once, don't do exactly what he wants, and I get verbally abused. Beat up. I think I deserve a certain amount of respect, credit, whatever. It takes a lot of time, effort, and patience to help someone who's going through heroin withdrawal. I'm not sure Roger realizes that. I wanted to walk away many times, but something inside me--the human being inside me--told me to stick by him, to help him as much as I possibly could. I know many people joke about me being parental, but that's just who I am.

Am I really such a bad person? The kind of person Roger says I am? A Benny? A withdrawn, numb... thing? I don't even know anymore. I thought I was doing so well.

Maybe I was too wrapped up in my own happiness to notice what was going on with him.

I'm just going to stay in my room for a day or two. I need to hide under my blankets. And sleep.

I still feel so sick to my stomach.

2 #leave a message at the tone

[locked from onesong___glory] [05 Dec 2005|05:40pm]
[ mood | worried ]

Rodge's first show with the new band is tonight. Congratulations to him. I'll be there, of course. In the back. Or off to the side. With my camera. I never really liked the kind of loud music he plays, but I have to support him.

Even though I really don't think he likes what he's doing much. It's either that or... I dunno. Something else must be bothering him. I know he's been somewhat sick this past week or so, but... there must be something else.

Maureen?

I know he told me he didn't trust her. It can't possibly still be bothering him. I mean--it could very well be--but... why should it?

I just wish he would stop being stupid and actually talk to me for once. I'm not a psychic.

And I thought I was the one with the communication problems.

3 #leave a message at the tone

[04 Dec 2005|09:15pm]
[ mood | contemplative ]

Work is never usually busy on Sundays, so I went in for an early afternoon shift for once, just to chill out and... reflect for a bit. Didn't get much of that done, that's for sure. Who knew she would find out where I worked? Not me. Unless, I told her and just... forgot.

I promptly hid in the back until she left.

I wish I could just come face to face with her and just... dump her. Blow her off. But I can't bring myself to do it.

I should do it. Seriously. I've got Maureen. And even though, yes, I did... turn down her proposal last night (somewhat), I still love her and need her and I don't think there will ever be a space for Nanette. Maureen's more important to me than anything and everything else. Even my camera.

Well. Sometimes.





I kid.

I didn't go by the park today. Well, I did, but didn't really take the time to stop. I just went straight to Starbucks (because I'm becoming a yuppie whore like that, I guess you could say) and then window-shopped. The holidays are creeping up, and even though I don't have much cash, I'm going to try my best to get something nice for everyone.

7 #leave a message at the tone

[locked from dance_her_tango] [02 Dec 2005|12:17pm]
[ mood | contemplative ]

And so, the filmmaker faces a dilemma. A rather difficult one, at that.

Let's introduce our players, shall we?

CUT TO: Nanette Himmelfarb. The rabbi's daughter. The girl from the Scarsdale JCC. Rather cute. Incredibly cute. The kind of girl a mother would love to see brought home and into the family.

Her connection to our lead? Tango lessons during the summer. Block parties. Family friends. Elementary school. Middle school. High school. Childhood crushes turn into a somewhat-relationship which is cut short by a graduation--the lead's.

CUT TO: Maureen Johnson. Performer and protestor. Fellow bohemian. All-around party girl and stage diva. Gorgeous. Funny. There's just something about her...

Her connection to our lead? His second ever girlfriend. His first ever real heartbreak, one he never really recovered from. She took his heart, threw it around, and eventually slammed it to the ground only to stomp on it repeatedly before prancing off with her new love--Joanne.

Sad thing is, he's loyal to her. Cares about her. Wants to protect her--or be protected by her. She was stronger than him anyway. Everyone knew that.

CUT TO: The dilemma itself.

After a few years of seperation, Nanette and the lead reunite in a park on a beautiful Sunday afternoon in the Fall. They eat lunch, they discuss, they talk. She wonders. Maybe he'd like to...? No, he wouldn't. He's still getting over the trauma.

On that same exact day, as luck would have it, Maureen comes back into his life--

....

And at this point, the filmmaker stops typing, his mind filled with confusing, conflicting thoughts.

He didn't know how to handle this at all.

leave a message at the tone

[29 Nov 2005|12:03am]
[ mood | thankful ]

It's amazing how fast things can change in less than day. Really. I find myself quite dumbfounded.

Yesterday afternoon, I was thinking about Nanette and trying to decide when I should ask her out for brunch or just coffee or anything... And this morning I wake up on the couch with Maureen in my arms.

Yes. Maureen.

We're together again. And it leaves me feeling rather indescribable on the inside. A mixture of happiness and relief...

I knew she still loved me. And that makes me feel even better. I can finally show her how much I love her.

Starting over is wonderful.

9 #leave a message at the tone

[27 Nov 2005|09:43pm]
[ mood | complacent ]

I had off from work today. Didn't have a morning shift or afternoon shift or even a late night shift... Talk about a relief. It was nice for a change.

A great Sunday overall, really.

I slept late and then went out to take some photos. Another change. I felt like leaving the good old camera home and try out the 35mm for the first time in a while. (I hadn't used it since I moved into the loft with Rodge and everyone.)

The park was somewhat productive. I love it when the leaves turn and fall. Makes for some good shots.

I saw her again today. And yes, I gathered up enough courage to say hi in the only way I knew how. Asked her if she minded being in one of my shots. She was reading something as usual (I couldn't catch the title.) on a bench, and said she didn't mind at all.

A talk later...

Turns out the girl's Nanette.

Yes. That Nanette. She's changed so much since the last time I saw her. JCC Summer Camp... 6th or 7th grade? Maybe it was 8th. I forget. All I know is that I learned to tango with her for a few weeks. And tango we did.

God. Nanette Himmelfarb.

She insisted on taking me for coffee and lunch at The Life. And we caught up as much as we could before she had someplace to run off to. An appointment or something.

I think I should introduce her to everyone. Just maybe. Joanne might be interested in meeting her.

Oh. I also have a new scarf. She picked it out for me while we walked to lunch. She said it matched my eyes and just had to buy it for me. It's time to give the other one a rest.

22 #leave a message at the tone

[25 Nov 2005|11:17pm]
[ mood | okay ]

Work went well today.

I managed to get out a bit early and head over to The Life. Actually paid for a tea this time, which was a relief to the employees there. I insist they keep a tab for me, so I can pay back what I owe after every paycheck, but they always forget. I suppose it's their loss.

There's nothing like a cup of green tea on a chilly autumn afternoon. Really. I would actually buy some teabags for the loft, but they're so expensive in the supermarkets. I hate having to budget my spending money.

I saw her today. And it wasn't even Sunday. Or the park. I think she was having coffee. I couldn't really see from where I was sitting, but I did notice there was foam. Maybe one of those fancy latte things? No idea.

All I know is that I promptly paid for my tea and left.

Maybe sometime I should ask her if she wants to be in my newest documentary. Or maybe just ask if - if she'd like to have coffee with me. I'll give up tea for a day if that's what it takes.

13 #leave a message at the tone

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