Ask Me Why(18)

My questions are rhetorical, completely one-sided, but this makes me believe we’re actually having a conversation. I prefer thinking of it that way, rather than me sitting here rambling to myself. I feel a bit better thinking that Devon is listening.

“Sadie is doing well. She’s been so supportive. I feel guilty for how much she’s still helping me. Not sure how I’d manage the challenges without her. That makes me sound pathetic. Or maybe everything does. Not like it matters. But guess what? I’m still chugging along.”

I avert my gaze, ignoring the smoky doom I imagine swirling nearby. “Ready for the random story?” I smile in spite of the thistles prickling me. “So, I had a dream last night. It wasn’t horrible. I mean, there wasn’t any screaming or blood or death. But maybe this was worse. I was sleeping in this massive bed. It was so freaking soft, like a cloud. Remember those commercials? It was definitely memory foam. You should’ve let me buy one. The softness was so legit.” I knock on my forehead, erasing the nonsense. “Anyway, I wasn’t alone.”

My lungs fill with lead. This was a bad idea. I’m not in the right frame of mind. But leaving isn’t an option. Not when I’m already talking.

I yank at a patch of wilting wild flowers and toss them away. A small hole takes their place, mocking me. I dig at the upturned dirt until my nails are caked. Cleaning up this mess gives me something to do. I shift on the hard surface, and needles prickle down my legs.

“Okay, let me rewind. There’s this new customer at Thicket. Two of them actually, father and son. Ollie couldn’t be any cuter. He’s five and loves candy. I want to believe he loves the store too. He’s so bright, you know? Gives me a reason to smile. Unfortunately, his dad is the total opposite.”

Thinking of Brance sets my skin on fire. Specks of ice attempt to stick, but melt in a shallow puddle. The metallic taste of copper fills my mouth. I startle, releasing my bottom lip from the guillotine of my teeth.

“Brance is so horrible, Dev. But maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s been years since I’ve felt anything except hollow nothingness. Why this guy? He doesn’t deserve to steal my attention.” My breaths are harsh pants, puffing in and out too fast. “Is it weird that I’m discussing this with you?”

I wait a few beats, almost expecting an answer. “He calls me sugar. What a joke. But that’s not the worst of it. Yesterday Brance used my grieving as an insult. Can you believe the nerve of that man? He doesn’t know about you or why I took off in a panic last week. I could be chronically ill, and he’d laugh at me. He’s just rude on purpose. The arrogant type that has the best answer for everything. Oh, and he’s a lawyer. Go figure.”

The bricks on my shoulders crumble into dust. It feels damn good to let this all out. I’m really on a roll. “His boy is sweet as honey, and that should make him happy. But no, he’s an awful person. So, of course, I find myself wondering why he’s such an intolerable jerk.”

I roll my eyes and huff out loud. “You’re probably laughing at me. I still can’t mind my own business. Always searching for reasons I’m better off not knowing.” I kiss my palm and place it on the cool stone. “Why didn’t you let me drive, Dev? I can’t let it go. You should have listened to me. Things could have been different. Instead, you’re gone.” The last word tumbles out on a sob. “Was it worth it?”

Because I’m weak, or maybe lonely beyond reason, I wait for a response. Only silence greets me. My fractured heart splits further. I clutch my chest and try gathering the pieces. I’ll need the captured fragments one day.

The downhill slide is fast and steep. A brutal kick to the ribs and all hope draining out of me follow close behind. In a blink, I find it hard to breathe without my body screaming. This is different than panic. The isolation and loneliness become overwhelming, crashing against me with unforgiving ferocity.

There’s no use fighting.

The wind vanishes from my sails, and I sag into a pitiful stoop. Smooth granite stops me from falling flat. There’s some hidden message waiting below the surface, but I can’t gather the energy to find it. I squeeze my hand into a fist and try to imagine the weight of his on top of mine. All I find is gaps and space. So much damn blankness. The longer he’s gone, the more I forget. The sound of his voice is barely recognizable. Our love was virile and strong, or so I thought. These days it’s hard to remember the happy moments. Loss is cruel that way. My mind plays tricks on me, warping cherished memories into a mysterious clump.

Tears trickle down my cheeks, and I swipe them away. Why am I so weak? It’s always one step forward and five stumbles back. Something has to give. I can only hope that’s not me.

My therapist’s calm tone tries to break through the storm wreaking havoc inside of me. I’m strong enough. Today is better than yesterday. Nothing will break me again. The healing process is a wicked beast. Since I was there in the wreck, my progress is harder to achieve. The impact feels fresh, this crater inside of me impossibly wide and deep. But in reality, the hole is shrinking. Even when I pick at the scab and pain rushes in, the intensity has lessened. More recently, the wound doesn’t hurt as much. I’m aware of the reasons, but I refuse to acknowledge him as one of them.

A roar of thunder shatters the quiet misery I’m drowning in. The warmth recedes from the air, allowing a frigid blast to sweep in. If someone comes along, will they want to save me? Would I want them to?