For the next three nights, I went to see her in that hospital bed. I'd just sit there holding her hand and watching her sleep the way I used to when we were together, and only the sight of her face in slumber could bring me peace.I paid a hefty sum for information on how she was doing since I could only see her while she was asleep. The reports were good; she was doing better with the tests they gave her and was even speaking up in therapy, which she wasn't doing when she first got here. I read between the lines enough to gather that though this last round of attacks had hit her hard, it was me and our breakup that was the real problem.Knowing that was twofold. On the one hand, it helped alleviate the fear I have been carrying around ever since I started coming back to my senses. The fear that she would never forgive me, never give me another chance. On the other hand, I hated this for her, hated knowing that she was still carrying that pain in her heart, and I wasn't there to mend i
"What the heck has gotten into you?""What do you mean?" I looked up from my plate to find Sydney staring at me as if I had two heads."What do I mean? Chicklet, when I took you to that place, I was almost certain that we were about to lose you in the not-too-distant future. Now here you are, acting like that shit never happened, and you're living your best life.""Don't get me wrong, I am here for it, but what the hell happened to you in there." If I told her the truth, she'd freak. I can't even believe it myself, or more to the point; I'm finding it hard to accept. But ever since I felt Ryder's presence in that room, it's like I have a new lease on life."Isn't that the point? Wasn't I supposed to get better?" She looked stumped by that one, and I was able to go back to my enchiladas in peace. I wanted a margarita in the worst way but knew it wasn't a good idea, not with all the medication I was taking. Though according to the tabloids, I was on a bender every other night. The fuck d
She looks good; she looks way better than she did in that hospital bed. And just the simple act of looking at her filled me with more peace and joy than I can remember. It was a bitch being this close and still not being able to approach her, but it was good enough for now. It will have to be. I watched her from afar and felt a smile in my heart when she threw her head back and laughed at something her friend said. She used to laugh like that with me, better even. Her laugh, like her cheeks, is one of those things I missed about her at night when I was lying alone beneath the stars, fighting to get the drugs out of my system and back to some semblance of humanity.If it wasn't for her, I'd have given up on the idea, especially in those first few days, which are always the hardest when going through detox. Add the psych shit to the mix, and it has been a different kind of hell. I just keep reminding myself that it's for her because, in all honesty, if it was just for me, I don't think
It can't be; there's no way. But I know what I saw. Or do I? Maybe I'm losing my mind again. Uh-uh, nope, I'm not going back down that rabbit hole of destruction again. I won't fill myself with doubts and what-ifs again because that shit takes forever to end. But what's the alternative? Should I believe what I saw or write it off as my mind playing tricks on me again?The way my heart was racing and my skin tingling, I was afraid I already knew the answer but was just too afraid to accept it because I didn't know what it meant. If I didn't accept what my eyes and heart had seen, then I'd have to make a trip back to the doctor and admit that I'd failed once again, and if I accepted, it'd just be opening a rusty can of rotten worms that I'm not sure I'm ready to deal with.Ryder? Here? How? Why? And why now? This is crazy. I barely made it through my last smile for the last fan without a complete meltdown or panic attack before making my excuses and heading into the ice cream shop.I was
She's going to pull a runner. I guess I should've expected something like this. Though the girl I knew wasn't one for running from anything, her behavior over the last five years had been quite different from the norm. I felt guilty that I was the cause of her giving up her vacation; in fact, I wasn't quite sure how to feel about her leaving after seeing me. But I also don't know what I'd expected.Yeah, I do; I expected her to run into my arms like some cheesy romcom movie, something I instinctively knew was not going to happen because, along with her sweetness, she had a stubborn streak a mile long that would not allow her to just give in to me at first sight.I'd built up the moment of our first meeting in my head for so long that I think I'd overlooked a few things, like the fact that real life hardly ever, if ever, follows the plans and ideas in my head. Still, the decision to follow her here was a compulsion I couldn't resist.I still have to work on my impulsiveness where she's
"It was a setup." I'd barely made it through the door after hours spent running around to get here, and this was mom's greeting."What're you talking about, mom? What was a setup?""This whole thing, everything. It was all a setup." Being here in front of her, I saw that the panic in her voice was nothing compared to the fear in her eyes.My mom has this habit of pacing back and forth, waving her arms around frantically when she's stressed. She was doing that now only at warped speed. For a minute, I almost thought she was on something, but this wasn't that look. I know what mom looks like high, and this wasn't it.She kept rambling about lies and conspiracies and blaming herself for believing the wrong people, and I still didn't know what she was talking about. I was too tired and, frankly, freaked out myself to have the patience she obviously needed."You're not making any sense, mom. Now stop pacing and tell me what the hell is going on .""Your marriage, your wife, her family, the
Well, what do you know, life does go on. A little change of scenery and a new and exciting project that takes up most, if not all, of your time, and well, you stop caring too much about what's being said. You'd think after weeks had gone by that the Ryder thing would've died down, but nope.It only seems to have opened up the proverbial can of worms all over again. To make matters worse, no one has seen hide nor hair of him since then, which has prompted everyone and their mother to stalk me around town as if expecting him to pop up any minute.Thankfully I've been too busy for all this nonsense. My agent seems to think I had acquired superpowers since my last breakdown because I find myself having to turn down offers left and right when there was hardly ever anything to choose from before. Granted, I was doing a pretty good rendition of a corpse back then, but still.Instead of griping about it, I decided to be thankful for all of it, but I'm still going to pick and choose what I want
"Sydney, come over; bring food and ice cream. I just returned today and haven't been downstairs to check the fridge, so I'm not sure what we have down there.""I'm on my way." I hung up and turned up Elastic Heart, which I'd had on repeat for the last half hour.Sydney turned up about an hour or so later, but I was caught up in working on the ditty that had popped into my head after reading some of the crap online and didn't really notice the time. We exchanged hugs and small talk about what we'd both been up to since we last met before getting down to business."I guess you saw.""I saw, but you know, I don't believe half of what these things say. Since I was away for so long and you were here, why don't you tell me what's really been going on.""Actually, it's pretty accurate since it all played out online. Though the original post was taken down, someone screenshotted and reposted it, and all hell broke loose.""Yeah, I was afraid of that. I was hoping it was another one of those th