Fading (12 page)

Twenty Eight

(Four days later)

I’ve figured out that when you make a change in your life like I am right now, there are stages.

Stage One – Denial; Did that.

Stage Two – Cravings; The sofa incident.

Stage Three – Withdrawals; did that too.

Stage Four – More cravings; I don’t want to talk about it.

Stage Five – Your body flushes itself; I puked for two days.

Stage Six – Exhaustion; I slept for three days.

Stage Seven – Realising what you’ve becoming and pushing away anyone who shows that they might care about you.

That’s where I am now, so I’m guessing it’s a stage. But I could have it all wrong and this could very well all just be in my head.

Who knows?

I certainly don’t. Not anymore.

But I do know that Stage Seven doesn’t come alone, when you’re feeling down and dragging your self-esteem over rusted nails, you get hit with the next stage.

Stage Eight – Facing everything that you used to the drugs to try and forget.

So, not only am I facing the fact that I somehow went from the sweet girl who thought her boyfriend hung the moon to a girl who used pills to get through the day, I’m also forced to face that everyone I love is now dead.

Grief is a funny thing. Not funny as in ‘ha ha, my stomach hurts from laughing so hard’ but funny as in ‘Oh my God, I don’t think I’m going to make it through this.’ You know, the ‘you laugh or cry’ kind of funny. And I don’t have any tears left. Of that I’m about sixty-five percent sure.

So now that my ‘pretend it didn’t happen so much that you’ll soon start believing it’ system is no longer in use, I have to face, not only my most recent loss, but the losses from five years ago too. The only problem is that now that they’re there in the front of my mind, they’re all just as equally fresh as if they just happened this morning.

If I could go back, would I? Defiantly.

I’d rather deal with one death at a time, which is what I should have done, instead I’m stuck with the three of them. But I have to say, if getting of the pills didn’t kill me – which it hasn’t yet, then this might be what finally does.

How do you deal with something like that?

You don’t.

You use whatever you can to distract yourself from it because as soon as you let that pain penetrate, I don’t think you can ever just let it pass, you have to deal with it and whether you make it out after it will define who you are for the rest of your life. I’ve just gotten over one hurdle, I’m not ready for another just yet.

Luckily for me, I have a walking, talking distraction right here in my house.

One who is currently trying to talk me into going outside and talking a walk.

“I’m not going out there. Even if I was ready to go outside, you’re the last person I’d take a lazy Sunday stroll with.”

“You can’t be mad at me forever, Lily.” He tells me, which is what he’s been telling me for a couple of days now. He’s also gone back to constantly calling me Lily, as if trying to remind me of who I used to be and who he used to be to me.

“You’re not wrong, Jason, I can’t be mad at you forever because I won’t live forever, but I can be mad at you for as long as I do.” I flip through my magazine, not really reading anything since I’ve already read every magazine that is in the house about three times already.

“Okay, so we’re going to do this, huh? Why are you mad at me?” He uses the TV remote to switch it off and then drops it on the coffee table.

“Why am I mad at you? Are you crazy? I can’t think of a reason why I wouldn’t be mad at you.” Warming up to my subject now, I stand and pace in front of him. “I mean, let’s start with the fact that you not only took my virginity and then kicked me out of your house, but you also broke my heart that night. Then there’s was that stupid car ride with your cryptic ‘I know you, get out while you can,’ bullshit. Oh, and let’s not forget that stupid fake date, I mean
what were you
thinking?
And then you come here and you… you… you, make me make all these changes and just expect me to be okay with everything? You think that knowing the reason I’m in so much pain right now is because of you and you seem to think it’s okay we go for a fucking walk together? You think I need fresh air, because clearly you know what’s best, right? This is all your fault. All your idea and now I’m stuck like this and I have all this shit going on inside my head and thanks to you, I can’t even have five fucking minutes alone to … to… to.. to do whatever it is I want to do!”

“Those are bullshit reasons. Maybe not the first two, but the rest of them are.”

“They are not.”

“Yes they are. The car thing? I knew something was off with you, I’ll admit I didn’t realise
how
bad, but damn it, Lily, I was right about that. The fake date wasn’t my fault, but it got you dating so it helped and you know it. The rest? That’s bullshit too. If I hadn’t moved myself in here, you’d still be wandering around taking accidental overdoses.
Accidental overdoses
for fucks sake. I mean, who does that?”

“No one does it, it was an
accident!”
I scream, proving that coming precariously close to losing it.

“Yeah, it was an accident, but what if the next time it wasn’t just a case of throwing up and passing out? What then? You’d be dead, that’s what.” I don’t know if it’s the look on my face or if what he just said hits home with him, but he seems to lose all his steam and slumps back in the chair with a sigh. “You could have died, Lily. Then what? You’re going to throw your life away, just like that? I didn’t have to come here and help you. I certainly didn’t have to lock myself up in here with you for almost two weeks, but I did, I have and I am because whether you like it or not, you needed someone to do this and you’re not through the worst of it yet. So, if that makes an arsehole or if that means you hate me, then so be it. At least you’ll be alive long enough to feel those things.”

With nothing left to say, I leave the room in silence and don’t make a sound until I collapse on my bed. 

Twenty Nine

Jason finds me pathetically sobbing into my pillow a couple of hours later.

Without a word he climbs up next to me and just lays there until I calm down, saying nothing even once all my tears have dried.

“What do you want?” I ask to break the silence. It’s not like we can stay here and not say anything for the next couple of days? He’d never let me get away with that.

“What do
you
want, Lily?” He asks instead of answering.

“I don’t know.” I answer honestly. “I just want everything to be normal, but I don’t know what that is anymore.”

“You don’t what what is?”

“Normality. I can’t even remember what my life was like when things were normal any more, that’s sad, isn’t it?”

“It’s because you’ve been pretending that nothing has happened.” He points out softly.

So softly that it makes me sit up to look at him. “That’s not what I’ve been doing.” I frown at him. “Not exactly.”

“Yes it is. Lily, I need you to be completely honest with me right now.”

“Okay...”

“When did you start taking them?”

“The pills? After my mum died. It was an accident but then when I realised how they made me feel, I just started taking them because I could and dad was out of it so there was no one to stop me and… well, it got a little out of control.”

“So you started taking them right away? No wonder you don’t remember what it’s like when everything is normal. You’ve got all this loss to deal with and instead of doing that, you’ve been ignoring it.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“Honestly?” He asks and waits until I nod before he continues. “I think you need to deal with all the deaths, Lily. I think you have to accept them, even Gavin’s. You haven’t even processed any of them yet, Gavin was first and then before you could really understand that, your mother died and then you were taking the pills and the your dad died and now… well, now you have to deal with all three of them.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know. I wouldn’t want to either, but you have to. If you want to move on and start finding your way back to normal; you need to accept that those three people you loved, they aren’t here anymore.”

“I know they aren’t here anymore.”

“Do you? Because I think this whole time you’ve just been pretending that none of it happened. Wait… was you trying to do that thing that you do where you think that if you pretend it didn’t happen then you’ll start believing it and then it’ll actually be like it never happened?”

For a second I’m shocked, but then it turns into suspicion. “How do you know that I do that?”

“Because you did it when you fell over and needed stitches in your hand, the whole time we riding to the hospital you were talking about how it never happened and that if we all pretended it didn’t then it would be real and you wouldn’t need the stitches.” He smirks.

I’m pretty sure I’ve turned the same shade as a serial killer’s hands after a particularly successful night. I remember that day and I remember the stitches – I didn’t actually need real stitches, I had those dissolvable ones and Jason came into the room with me and held my uninjured hand all the way through it.

“That’s not really the same thing, mostly because it worked when I did it that night, it hasn’t been working so well over the last couple of years – hence the need for the pills.” I point out.

“I’m glad you can make a joke out of it, I really am.” He says but the expression on his face says quite the opposite.

“I’m not joking about it, I’m simply pointing out the obvious.”

“Well, it’s time to do something. What are you going to do? Sit around and keep trying to pretend it into an alternate universe, or are you going to deal with the truth and start moving on with your life?”

“Uh, that was really harsh.” I frown at him.

“I know it was, but maybe that’s what you need. Nothing else seems to be working. You’re way certainly didn’t.”

“Okay, so what do you suggest? How do just
accept
that? I mean, it’s not like I don’t know that I’m never going to see them again. It’s not like I sit at home and wait for them to walk in. I know that none of them will ever call or text me, I know I won’t bump into any of them in the street, I know I won’t speak to any of them every again. I know they’re not here. That’s not the problem.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Now he’s the one frowning and I can’t help but wonder how this is helping. All we seem to be doing is confusing each other.

“The problem is the pain. The pain I feel when I think about them. I don’t deal with pain well, you know that. The pain I feel when I think about them though, that’s something I couldn’t have even imagined because it’s not a physical pain. It’s not something I can just put a band aid on.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He smiles for the first time in what feels like weeks. “So you think about them and it’s hurts; which is understandable, but that’s what you don’t want to deal with?”

“Yeah, I like to try and avoid pain at every available opportunity.”

“But you think about them.”

“Of course I do. I loved them, all of them. Thinking about them is natural. It’s not like I can just wipe out every memory I have of them and believe me, I’ve tried.”

“You can’t take away your memories of them, Lily, that’s not fair to you
or
them. But I think I know a way we can start getting you through this.”

“How?”

“The next time you find yourself facing a memory of one of them, come to me. We can talk through it. I can remember with you and we’ll focus on the happy times and hopefully, that pain you feel will start to fade away.”

I nod at him and find myself smiling back. “Replace the pain with happy memory… I like it. Thank you, Jason.”

“You’re welcome.” He pats me on the head awkwardly and leaves me alone in my room.

I know it’s not something we discussed, and I’m not even sure it’ll help, but once he’s gone and closed the door, I walk over to my desk and find an empty journal, - my mum was always buying them for me but I always forgot to keep writing in them. Once I have the one I want I grab a pen and take them back to bed with me. I get comfortable and start writing about everything that’s happened since Jason found me on the kitchen table.

Thirty

Writing in a journal, like everything else has its good points and its bad points.

The good points are that it’s helped me work out a lot of frustration, reading over what I’d been doing helped me see what a complete total wreck I’ve been and it’s an outlet for all those small things that I would usually keep inside my head and never get them out.

The bad ones, well, there’s really only one and that’s it’s made me realise how much Jason took on when he declared himself my saviour. And now that I understand how much he’s done for me and how much he’s been there for me these last couple of weeks, it’s reminded me of how he used to be.

How we used to be.

So now I spend the majority of my time thinking about him and how we used to be, how we are now and even, how we
could
be. I’ve even caught myself trying to make excuses for what he did to me that night when everything changed.

You’d think that it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? I mean, I’m only
thinking
about him. But it is a big deal because now that I’m spending so much time inside my own head, the real life Jason that lives with me is worried that I’m zoning out and I’m going to relapse. So he’s focusing all his energy on ‘distracting’ me and staying close.

Really close.

I’ve tried assuring him that I’m not going to do anything stupid but he’s not taking any chances.

As much as I appreciate everything that he had done and is doing, it’s getting harder and harder to keep up with my hatred of him. Hell, I don’t even think I dislike him anymore. And the more time I spend with him, the more my feelings are starting to shift.

How do you avoid someone who spends every minute of every day with you while you’re awake?

You can’t.

There’s no way around it.

Not one.

Take today for example, - Jason picks a new project every day for us to do which is supposed to keep me focused on the present. Today’s project is redecorating my father’s bedroom.

The house I live in is the house I’ve always lived in, a couple of years after my mother died, my father had the whole place remodelled in a way that the bottom half of the house was mine and the top half was his. It’s basically two separate flats with two separate entrances but there is a door on the inside that connects the two which we never really locked.

Anyway, since I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the whole place, sell it and move somewhere new or just rent out the top floor, we decided to stick with the two flats set up and make it a neutral place. All the furniture has been moved out – Cal helped with that- and the carpet has been ripped up and I’m painting – or at least, trying to paint- the walls a nice shade of gainsboro. I say that I’m trying to paint instead of painting because right at this very second Jason is on the other side of the room, sweaty and shirtless, standing on a step ladder with a drill as he installs new wall shelves.

It’s a little hard to concentrate with that going on a few feet away from me.

I mean, really hard to concentrate.

When he uses his forearm to wipe his forehead, I consider taking my own shirt off and joining the half-naked club. It’s the simple movements like that which seem to fascinate me so much.

Oh and he does this thing where he grabs hold of one of his shoulders and then rotates his head… that one’s really good to watch too.

But my favourite one is when he drinks and I can see his throat working…

Okay, so I need to get out of the house before I go insane.

“You okay?” He calls out, making me jump.

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?” He turns his head to send a worried frown my way.

So he’s not wrong about the whole zoning out thing; he’s just wrong about what my fantasies revolve around.

“I’m fine, Jason.” I assure him and turn back to the wall, smearing some paint on it to try and get him to resume shelf building. “I was just taking a break.” I take a step back to admire my work.

Jason snorts.

I frown.

I have painted an area no bigger than my head.

“Yeah, you’re working
real
hard over there,” I swing my had around just in time to see his smirk before he goes back to his original task.

“Maybe I’m just a slow painter because I want it to be perfect.” I grumble.

“You’re painting a whole wall… It’s not like you need to stay inside the lines.”

“I know, but it’s just so boring. There’s so much wall and it’s all the same movements and… it’s just really freaking boring.”

“If you don’t want to paint, what do you want to do?” He doesn’t stop working on the shelves when he asks it so I know he’s probably thinking that this is just one of those times where I give up and go back to what I’m doing but I’m not joking about how boring it is. Plus, I need something new to focus on.

“We should do something. I mean something normal. Like, go out or something, I don’t know. I’m starting to get a little cabin fever-ish.”

That got his attention. He froze when I used the word ‘normal’ and when I mentioned going out, he climbed down from the step ladder. “You want to do something?”

“Yeah, don’t you? I mean, you must be going crazier than I am. We need to do something.
Anything.
I just need a change of pace.”

“We could do a movie night.” He suggests.

I scrunch my nose up. “Here?”

“Yes… but we’ll get Lexi and Matt to come over. It’ll be good for you to have someone else to talk to besides me.” He smiles a lopsided smile that just too cute for me to handle so I grab hold of the idea with both hands and run.

“I’ll call Lexi.”

“Great.” He nods.

I start leaving the room but stop when a thought hits. “Jason…” I don’t turn around and knowing he can’t see me, I steal myself for both the upcoming question and the answer. “You won’t tell them about…me, will you?”

“I never considered it an option.”

I let out a breath and let myself relax. “Thank you.”