I Love You to Death(29)

Slowly I start to feel less of anything. Slowly I start to feel nothing at all.
I’m really drunk when I finally turn on my computer. I know this is a stupid idea. Even in my current condition, I know that. There are five emails from Luke but I don’t bother opening any of them. I barely even remember sending this to him, the message sent notice I see on the screen the next morning, the only clue to what I’ve done.
But sure enough when I go searching through my sent box later on, this is what I find.


To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: [NONE]
I’m sorry.
Sorry for acting like that, like this. Sorry for being so pissed today.
Sorry for taking it out on you.
Sorry for all of it.
I can’t explain it. I f*ck up everything. It’s better if you just stay away from me.


God, I really am f*cking pathetic.




Extrasensory perception, commonly known as a sixth sense
∞

Playlist:
1. A modern myth – 30 Seconds to Mars
2. Fall at your feet – Boy & Bear
3. Infinite arms – Band of Horses
∞

Being alone is now a fact of life for me. When I was a kid, back when the teasing was really bad, all I ever wanted was to just be left alone. All I ever wanted was to be able to run and hide from everyone. Live in make believe worlds where I could escape the reality of the one I lived in. A place where everyone was nice to me, where I didn’t have to worry about being shy, where I didn’t have to worry about anything, especially people dying.
Of course now I’ve been forced into some kind of exile, I wish for the opposite. I crave human interaction and I crave human touch.
I want to have friends again. I really want my family back. I long to be in love and have someone love me back. I want Sam here; I want to have Sam love me again.
But none of that can happen now. And I know it’s part of why I was so angry yesterday. It’s the reason for who I am, the way I act and for so many of the things that I’m forced to do now.
It’s funny the things you wish for.
When you get them, you never want them anymore. And you’d do anything to take them back.
∞

I haven’t looked at my emails since I sent that message to Luke last night. There are six more sitting unopened in reply from him now. I don’t want to know, don’t want to see what he might have sent back to me. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking, what he thinks about me or any of the things Liam said. What he thinks about any of the things I said in the stupid drunken email I sent him last night.
I’m so pathetic.
I call in sick to work today. I don’t want to be around anyone, I want to wallow alone in my own self-pity, but most of all I don’t want anyone to see me like this.
Because today is my birthday. Today I’m twenty-six years old and I’m all alone. It’s now six months since Sam died and it’s the most alone I’ve ever been in my life, because now, I have absolutely no one. I’m so completely alone and I feel so incredibly lonely, all the time. I wish I had the courage to end it, to give up and find a way out of all this shit. I really wish I could just make this all stop.
I’m so tired of being angry all the time, so tired of pushing everyone away and I’m so tired of being alone. So very tired of everything, but especially being me.
Last night when I finally got home after the day from hell, I drank myself into oblivion, eventually passing out fully clothed on top of my bed. I obviously didn’t shut the blinds because it’s the early morning sun that somehow finds its way into my room and wakes me up today, wakes me before the nightmare even has a chance to. A pounding head ache and a mouth that feels like the bottom of a bird cage are what greet me. Happy birthday Ash I think to myself, one of your best.
I spend the morning in bed reading Sam’s letter and sleeping. I don’t cry anymore because I know it won’t change anything, won’t bring him back. Besides, I don’t think I have any more tears left inside me now. Instead I re-read the words he left and wonder if they will ever change how I’m feeling, whether they will ever change anything at all. The paper is so worn, the creases blurring some of the words he wrote, a small hole in the centre from folding and unfolding it over and over again. One day it will completely fall apart and then I will have nothing of his to read anymore.
Around lunch time I finally drag myself up and into the shower. I know I need to go out and get food before the stores close. I don’t want to go anywhere, but it’ll be easier if I just go now, before it gets too busy. In any case, I really need to get more alcohol after last night’s effort, because I know I’m going to need it again tonight. I need it right now in fact.
When I come back though, Luke is sitting on the floor beside my front door. Next to him are a pile of boxes.
"Hey," he says to me, smiling a little as he gets to his feet, juggling the boxes in his arms.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, putting the key in the lock and half blocking the door.
"I heard you were sick," he answers, his tiny smile still there. "And I bought you these," he continues, holding the boxes out to me now.
"I don’t want any company," I say, pushing past him and into my flat. My so-called apology from last night is apparently forgotten. His foot stops the door though, as I try to close it.
"Ash…." he hesitates. "I know, okay. I know it’s your birthday today. And ah….I don’t think you should be in here alone. Not today." The smile is gone now, replaced with a look that might be half sorrow and half pity.