Emerge into Forever

by Andrea Michelle

  But maybe that is the reason I never opened my heart to him all of those years ago. I needed Josh as my best friend for fear of this. Fear of us not being, “Josh and Riley” any longer—fear of losing my best friend and feeling this pain—this gut-wrenching pain that you only feel when you lose someone you love.

  He was just as afraid, and to protect himself he pushed me away. And now we are here—in misery apart, yet kind of together. It’s already a conundrum. I don’t know where we go from here, how to get my Josh back, how to give him myself. He loves me. There is no denying that. And I love him.

  Love isn’t the problem for us. We loved one another before we became a couple. It was a love of many flavors, layered with years of changes and ingredients. Loving him is the easy part because he is the most loveable person in the entire world. Loving me is probably not as easy, but he does. He loves me, and I feel blessed to have his love. So, why didn’t I tell him that we are more than just friends? Why did I let him leave unsure about us?

  Trust. That’s why.

  Trusting one another is where we struggle. I trust him in the sense that I know he will always be in my life. As a boyfriend, a lover—my soul mate? I’m not sure anymore. I thought I trusted him like that. I thought he trusted me like that. I guess I knew he didn’t when I kept things from him. Even if I thought I was doing it for the right reasons, it didn’t make them right. I thought I was protecting him, but I wasn’t. Perhaps, without knowing it, I was protecting myself. I knew he was insecure about us being apart and about Dean. I guess my secrecy was my own insecurity coming to light. He thought we weren’t strong enough, that I wasn’t. Deep down, he also wasn’t. I didn’t want to give him reasons to worry. I wanted him to believe I was strong because that is what I wanted so badly to be for him. Strong.

  Instead, he doubted me. He saw it as a betrayal. Withholding the truth might as well have been a lie. And then I saw him with Natalie at his bar, his new friend. The fact that he gave her a nickname, which is something he only does for the people he is close to, has become a thorn in my side. I doubted him then. I saw something unfamiliar in his eyes. It gave me a niggling suspicion that made me crazy with jealousy, more so now that I know they kissed, that he contemplated having sex with her. I don’t know what to think about her, but I know I believe him when he says it’s one sided. I believe in him. And I think he believes in me now.

  I spend the rest of the day in my bed moping. Emily checks on me, but she knows me well enough to know the reason behind why I am in bed, why I am sad. She gives me that time alone. She let me mope.

  After a while she climbs in beside me, silently watching a re-run of Friends. It’s the one where Rachel is waiting at the airport to tell Ross she loves him after he gave her his birthday gift and then left the country. It didn’t end well for her. I’ve watched every episode of the series countless times. Even they couldn’t get their shit together. It took years. Will it take years for Josh and I? God, I hope not.

  After a week of the same, Emily no longer checks on me. She’s in her own sad bubble and stays in her room, or away from the apartment. If I were a good friend, if I weren’t so worn down and tattered, I’d find out why she is in that bubble. I’d help her, and hope that she can also help me. But I’m not a good friend right now. I am worn down. I am beaten and tattered. My heart is back to being black and cold. Lifeless.

  I’m not okay.

  I’m struggling.

  I’m afraid.

  I’m not letting anyone in and I am doing my best to not be seen, not be heard, just not be anything at all—not exist. The only time I let myself relax is when Josh calls and I can escape into his voice. It’s really pathetic.

  The rest of the world vanishes away in my bed at night. It’s just him and me talking. His voice wraps around me like a warm blanket, begging me to believe, to fight—to try. His words never say those things. Instead, his words stay in the friend zone like he promised. His voice, though—his voice speaks without said words—it’s tone, it’s breathy way of speaking to me. Deep, husky and all Josh. Missing me. Wanting me. Always wanting more.

  CHAPTER 12

  Back on campus and back to reality. Riley and I are not together. With one week in and so many more to go, I’m already over the façade I’m playing. I’m not just her best friend. It’s not possible to go in reverse with her, not when we’ve been stationary for so many years. It’s time to move forward, but I made a promise. I’m giving her what she needs—time to heal.

  My week began as a nightmare and is ending sort of sweetly. Let’s backtrack to the day I told her goodbye, tasted her lips, savored them, and then took the asphalt that became miles between us again.

  I wasn’t even back on campus an hour before the pestering began. I was set about getting all of my missed assignments turned in and then calling home, calling Riley. I was on my way back to my dorm when Natalie walked up beside me.

  “Hey, stranger. Did you get my message?” she asked, knowing the answer and annoying the crap out of me already.

  I glanced at her and forced a smile to my lips just to seem pleasant, that’s not how I felt, not even close. “Yeah, I did, and like I told you before I left and when you called me, you and I are just friends. I’m working on getting back together with, Riley,” I admitted with the hope of that actually happening.

  She scoffed. “Really? You could’ve fooled me, Josh. Do you kiss all of your friends like that?” Rejection didn’t sit well with her.

  I stopped walking and turned to her with a bitter taste in my mouth, pleasantries gone. “You know I don’t. You also know I wasn’t in a good place that night. I kissed you and I told you that I shouldn’t have. I’ve made some shitty decisions, but I’m working on fixing them. Respect it and don’t send me messages like you did, or better yet find another friend. That simple.” I walked off with her mouth left agape.

  I told a little fib to Riley about Natalie. Truth was she didn’t call me because she was worried I missed work. She called me because she missed me, or so she claimed. Truthfully, I thought she liked the challenge. She’d been calling me and I’d been avoiding her. It’s just like Riley said it was…a load of bullshit. She was just another Preslee—evil and conniving. Even after that conversation where I told Natalie that I wasn’t interested, she still sent me a text with a picture of her in less than appropriate attire for my eyes with a caption.

  Nat: NOT TOO LATE TO CHANGE YOUR MIND. SURE YOU DON’T WANT A TASTE? JUST A LITTLE.

  I replied.

  Josh: NO. NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.

  If I had told Riley all of that—well, we would have been ten steps behind the ten steps we were already behind on and I didn’t want that. I wanted to be right in step with her, side by side, hand in hand—together. So, I told a little white lie for her benefit. I’ve felt like shit ever since because I realized that’s exactly what she did for me and I didn’t listen to her. I felt crazy guilty because she told me the truth about Dean and I swallowed up all of my truth.

  Needless to say, the guilt ate at me and I decided to right some of it. It wouldn’t vindicate me, but it would lessen the baggage I’d been carrying. Natalie was shocked when I quit the bar yesterday. Although, not entirely quit because I’m still going to play on the weekends and some Thursdays. I just won’t be behind the bar with her anymore. And it’s not because she’s a temptation because she’s not. It’s because I respect Riley and she did the same for me. I owe her the same respect.

  “I quit the bar yesterday?” I tell her. We’re video chatting and I wish more than anything that I could reach through my phone and touch her face. I want—no—I need her to trust me while we’re apart.

  “What? Why?” she asks.

  “You were right. I shouldn’t be working side by side with someone that is trying to come between us.”

  Her eyebrows furrow. “Is she trying to come between us?”

  I hesitate to answer, but then speak my truth. “Yes.”

  Her eyes flick a
way. “Oh,” she whispers.

  I hate the sadness I see. “Riley?”

  She looks back to the camera. “Huh?”

  “You have nothing to worry about. There is only one girl that I want and I’m looking at her.” She smiles coyly and I hate to see it slip so I tread lightly with my next words. “I’m still going to play, though. I don’t want to give up my music,” I explain hoping that she understands.

  Smile still in place. Relief. “I’d never want you to stop playing, Josh. I love that you have your music to keep you grounded. I love yo…your…um songs and stuff. You know what I mean.”

  I know what she means because almost every time we talk she trips up and almost says she loves me. It’s like she mentally reminds herself we’re friends and backpedals. I both hate it and love it.

  The week went by way too fast, yet in perfect synchrony because she and I are in tune. I’ve talked to her every day, whether on the phone, by video or text. I’ve held up my end of the deal. I’ve stayed in the friend zone, although barely. I can’t help but flirt, though. Yet, that has always come natural with her. So, I’m technically not breaking any rules.

  Rules, schmules. They are already blurred and she knows it. They were blurred before I even left. So tonight, I’m hoping to un-blur them completely. I want her to know once and for all what I feel.

  I practice my speech in the mirror like an idiot. I play the song I’m going to share. Then I pray. Because once I hit upload tonight I can’t take it back.

  CHAPTER 13

  I had a dream once where I climbed a tree because this lime green balloon I let go of by accident had just floated up and was stuck in the limbs of the branches. One step after the other, reaching and reaching further, yet I never could get to the balloon. I grew frustrated because it was mine and I didn’t mean to lose it. It was like the balloon was moving away from me on purpose, though. Then I looked down and realized how far up I was, how far from the ground I’d become and I knew if I fell from that height I’d be really hurt. I feel like I’m stuck in that dream now. Reaching, climbing, not succeeding, but knowing I’m too far up, too far in to let go. I can’t stop trying. The balloon is almost mine again.

  My life has become a series of repeats. Wake up, brush me teeth, shower with Josh’s body wash that I bought immediately after he left. Go to class, come home and shower again. I might eat, might not. Food has become an afterthought. In fact, everything in my life has become an afterthought. Everything but him and the words I’ve succumbed to writing in my journal.

  AS THE DOTS CONNECT FOR SOME

  FOR HER THE PUZZLE GETS MORE MIXED UP

  WANDERING THE EMPTY SPACE OF WHAT’S TO COME

  THINKING ACTIONS ARE LESS THAN WORDS FOR US

  DANCING ALONE IN THE STORMY WEATHER

  SINGING POETRY AS REGRET PULLS AT HER TETHER

  SEEING THE LAST OF THE MOMENTS WE BREATHE

  YOU FORGET TOO OFTEN

  NEVER ENOUGH FOR YOU TO SEE

  FILLED WITH FEAR AND DREAD

  THE WIRES GETTING CROSSED

  HEARTS ATTACHED BY A THREAD

  EMOTIONS SHORT-CIRCUITED

  BLOOD ON THE HANDS BY THE BROKEN VEIN BLEEDING

  EXCEPT YOU DON’T SEE THE PAIN SHE NUMBS WITHOUT FLEEING

  WHEN WILL TIME TAKE ITS TOLL ON A SHATTERED SOUL?

  WHEN WILL LIFE BECOME LESS SHIT AND MORE REAL?

  THE THRILL OWNING HER WITHOUT COMPLETE CLAIM

  THE ESCAPE LEAVING IT ITS PLACE A MOMENT OF SHAME

  WATCH AS SHE UNFOLDS AND FLUTTERS HER OWN WINGS

  NEVER TRYING ENOUGH TO HOLD TIGHT TO THOSE STRINGS

  BLINK YOUR EYES AND SHE’S ANOTHER BEING

  CRACKS BUILD AND FINGERTIPS TRACE THE LINING

  SOMEONE YOU FORGOT AND LET SLIP THROUGH YOUR FINGERS

  A FIGHT AND ANOTHER HAND ON THE MONUMENTAL TRIGGER

  UNTIL SHE TAKES A DEEP BREATH AND REMEMBERS

  AND YOU STOP THE HOLE FROM SWALLOWING HER

  TAKE IT, SHE BELONGS TO YOU

  FORGOTTEN, BUT REMAINS OF LOVE IS TRUE

  STOP THE HANDS OF TIME

  HER EYES HAUNTED BY LOSS

  FIGHT FOR WHAT’S MINE

  NO MORE ANGRY WORDS TO BE TOSSED

  TOO WEAK TO CONTINUE ON THIS PATH

  SHE SLEEPS HERE

  HEAD SPINNING FROM ALL OF THE WRATH

  DREAMS OR NIGHTMARES

  AWAKEN TO AN EMPTY, COLD SPACE

  NOTHING RESTED BESIDE HER

  BLACKENING THE MEMORY SHE FACES

  BLOOD ON THE HANDS OF THE VEIN BLEEDING

  EXCEPT NOW YOU KNOW THE PAIN SHE NUMBS WITHOUT FLEEING

  I know I am walking underneath my own personal dark cloud, but I haven’t yet succumbed to numbing the pain with liquor. I don’t want to disappoint Josh. I want to try to be everything he saw me as: strong, courageous and capable. I want to fly with my own wings, no longer let them be clipped by fear of failure, of feeling. I needed my lime green balloon to be in my hand again.

  So, I fought it and spent my time showering in his scent lost in a daydream, or on the phone lost in his voice, or in my head where I picture us happy again even though at the moment I am anything but happy. I am broken and I feel alone. I miss him. I miss him terribly.

  Emily has also been distant but the truth is, I have turned into a hermit and have been ignoring her for over a week. A week of me wandering around lost and another few days of her being pissed off about it. I shut her out. She shut down. I guess my dark cloud grew in size and pulled her under.

  She keeps trying to tell me something, but stops herself, and well, I know whatever she wants to say might not be something I really want to hear, not yet. So, I don’t try to pry it out of her even though I know she needs to talk to me. I’m not very good to her. I’m not very good at anything, but I want to be.

  So ten days after he left—too many days after I have shut out my other best friend—I do my best to rectify the situation. I have to try and step out from under the cloud I am allowing to follow me and swallow her up. I have been dabbling with an idea, rolling it around until I know for certain that I want to do it.

  I put my plan in action.

  Emily is sitting in her bedroom eating raw cookie dough and watching our favorite movie, Bridesmaids. She should be laughing because it’s funny as hell, but instead she is watching it with a really pissed off expression. Probably because Lillian is being a bitch to her best friend, just like I am.

  I stroll in just like it’s any other day, ignoring how she doesn’t acknowledge me coming in. I climb into her bed with her and pretend to watch the screen ahead. I’m not. I am contemplating my next words and how I will remedy my distance from her.

  I sit Indian style and turn to look at her. “I think we should go get new tattoos,” I blurt out. Wait! I had words before that to say. Like, sorry. Like, why are you so glum? Like, I know I’m a total selfish bitch. Gah.

  She turns to look at me and rolls her eyes. “You’re talking to me, today?” She looks away.

  I sigh, knowing I deserve that. I can’t explain why I’ve put a wall between her and I. She’s been great. She believes in me. She wants me to be better. She climbed into my bed and just let me mope when I needed to and when she’s moping I turn away? That’s not nice of me. I’ve known she’s been upset and instead of being there for her, I retreated into my shell. I had enough of my own pain. I couldn’t take on hers, too. But she needed me. I suck at this thing called relationships.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch. It’s obvious you’re upset. You’ve been upset since Collin left, and I haven’t been there for you. I wanted to be, but I couldn’t be, but I’m here now. I want to be here, now.”

  She looks at me and holds out the cookie dough. Our go to for sad days. Fuck ice cream. This is the way to go. I pinch off a little bit and thank her. She frowns, "You have nothing to apologize for, Ri. I know you’re in your own funk without Josh. I’m the one that is sorry.”

  I scoot c
loser to her and put my head on her shoulder. “I can’t think of anything you would have to be sorry for, Em.” She tenses and so I ask, “Wanna talk about it?”

  She reaches for the remote and turns the movie off. Okay. Not good. “Not really but you should know.” Definitely not good.

  I sit up and give her my undivided attention. “Know what?”

  “Collin and I broke up. Well, I broke up with him. Before he left. And I’m just so confused about it.”

  “Shit. I had no idea.” Of course I didn’t because I’m hiding in my own hole. I hug her. “How come? Not because of what happened with me, right? Because that’s not his fault.”

  She sighs and gives me a sad face. “Kind of a little bit, but it’s more than that. First, just listen.” She grabs my hands and sits where she is facing me. “When Collin got here to visit, I missed him so much. I wanted him and I didn't care about how that might hurt you when you were alone and sad. That's shitty of me and I'm sorry. More than that, though, I'm sorry I trusted him so completely that I let him stay in our apartment alone while we were in class."

  I look at her puzzled. "Okay,” I say slowly. “I admit that I hated hearing how you and Collin remedied missing one another. More than once actually. I hated it because I wanted that. I envied you and him. But what are you talking about trusting him? Of course he'd be welcome here. I would never deny you that just because I’m lonely."

  She hops off the bed and starts pacing the floor. "Collin let Dean in the apartment, Riley. That Friday, after Josh left you that letter…in your bedroom…on your bed. Do you see what I'm saying? I've never been so angry. I trusted him and he let the devil play in your bedroom," she explains angrily.

  My eyes widen and my pulse quickens. I didn’t realize that is where Josh left my letter. He didn’t disclose that secret to me. No wonder he was overly worried about me when he left. Dean not only did what he did, but he had been in my room.

  "Oh," I whisper.

  I don't really know what to think about that. Dean was in my bedroom. I feel violated all over again. “Did he know Dean was in my bedroom?” I ask.