I still think all of this is fucking stupid, but I’m tired of adding people to the list of those I disappoint, so here’s my attempt to write about it.
There was a break in the page, a little star between the two paragraphs, and my throat was tight as I continued reading. It was there in my stomach before I even read the next word, the knowledge that what I was about to see would change everything.
I just took a nap. Even thinking about writing about that day exhausts me. Even now, after sleeping half the afternoon away, I’m still just so… tired.
That day feels like a dream.
It’s been almost two months now, and it feels like forever ago and like it was just this morning. It feels like it was someone else and like it was me, too. It feels like I dreamed it and like it happened and I’m no longer here, even though I am.
There was nothing particularly shitty about that day. It was just another bad day, another day where everything felt pointless. I was a month away from graduating college, with a degree I could take or leave, a degree I got because it’s what was expected of me. I had a lot of people who called me a friend, but not a single one of them knew a thing about me aside from my name and what kind of beer I drank. There was a girl in my bed that morning, and I barely remembered the night with her. Her name was stitched onto the little backpack she had with her and her tits were fake. That’s all I knew about her when she left that morning, telling me to call her, knowing that I wouldn’t.
I remember lying there, not blinking, just staring up at the ceiling. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to go into the kitchen and have to make small talk with my roommate or go to my capstone class at one-thirty or meet the guys from my fraternity out at the bar that night. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to live.
That’s how easily the thought hit me.
I was just sifting through everything that sounded awful in my mind and the sheer pointlessness of it all steered me right to that simple truth: I didn’t want to live.
I didn’t think twice about it. I didn’t tick through any of the reasons why I needed to live, why I should want to. I just thought it, and then I walked into the bathroom I shared with my roommate, opened the medicine cabinet, and grabbed the bottle of hydrocodone he was prescribed after his oral surgery earlier that month. He’d only used a few of them, and there were six left in the bottle.
I took them all.
Marni wants me to write about how I felt after I swallowed the pills. She wants me to write about what was running through my mind as my breaths got shallower, as the light slowly faded away, as I closed my eyes for what I thought would be the last time.
But Marni doesn’t get it.
I didn’t feel a single damn thing. I didn’t feel sad, or angry, or scared. I didn’t feel relief, either. I didn’t wonder what people would say or do when they found me. I didn’t think about how it would break my mom’s heart. I should have thought all of those things, but I didn’t.
The last thing I remember thinking was that living was exhausting.
And then I closed my eyes.
My lips quivered as my fingers traced the ink on the page, the cursive lines that made up that last sentence, and then a tear fell from where it had trickled down my cheek and splatted on the page.
I turned to the next one.
When I woke up, for a split second, I thought maybe I was wrong about religion. Everything was white and blinding, but it was because I was in the hospital. I hadn’t taken enough. They pumped my stomach and I woke up. I lived.
So, there it is. I wrote about it. Assignment completed.
Marni said after I finish I should let it digest and write about how I feel tomorrow, after I’ve let it sit for a day.
It’ll probably be another three weeks before I write in this thing again.
The date on the next page was the day after the one I’d just read, but I couldn’t read anymore. My eyes were blurred by tears I held onto as I closed the journal and held it to my chest. I felt so dirty for reading that entry, for being selfish enough to want to keep reading even when I knew it was private, when I knew it was something never meant to be read — least of all by me.
He’d tried to kill himself.
My heart squeezed and I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall halfway down before I swiped at them, and then I tossed the journal back on the bedside table like it was on fire. Flicking off the lamp and the television, I rolled over to face the window, hugging a pillow to my chest.
I couldn’t hold onto a single thought before another one raced into my mind next, quickly replacing the first. Who had found him? Who told his parents? What happened next? Why did he do it? Was he seeing Marni before that day, or was she part of his treatment plan? Was he on medication now? Was he okay now?
Was he still alive?
Suddenly, the fact that he was with Emily didn’t bother me anymore. Annoyance turned to worry in a flash, and I checked the time on my phone, seeing it was nearly midnight. I didn’t know if he would come back to our room that night. I didn’t have his phone number. I didn’t have any way to reach him, or find him, or make sure he still had a pulse.
I could only wait to see if he showed back up.
I swore I didn’t sleep at all that night, but I must have at some point, because I woke to Kalo licking my face and the smell of sausage McMuffins. With a groan, I rolled until I was facing away from her, pulling the covers over my head.
“Morning, sunshine.”
At the sound of his voice, I sat upright.
Emery was sitting at the edge of his bed, which was still exactly how it had been left after his nap yesterday. He was halfway through his breakfast sandwich and he tossed one at me before I could register it. My hands flew up, catching the greasy paper before it smacked me in the face.
“You’re here,” I said, setting the sandwich on the bedside table with my eyes on him.
His hair was messy, his sexy smirk just barely playing at the edge of his lips. It was infuriating to me in that moment, that he could look that good that early in the morning. Especially because I had a pretty good feeling as to why he looked so happy.
“Of course, I’m here. Where else would I be?”
With Emily, I almost said, but I just stared at him and shrugged instead.
“I fed Kalo and took her for a walk. I’m all showered and ready to go whenever you are.”
He was perky and cheerful, and I was annoyed. Where was this guy yesterday? Was Emily the reason he felt so great today? What happened to wanting to stay in bed?
My eyes glanced at the bedside table where I’d thrown the journal the night before, but it was gone, packed away.
Well, he made me wait yesterday, so he can do the same, I thought, waiting until he was typing a text in his phone to slide my leg into place. I rolled my pant leg down while still under the covers before swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.
I coughed to cover the sound of it clicking into place, the little black pin popping into the hole as I bent for my yoga mat.
“I’ll be back.”
“You don’t want your sandwich?” Emery asked as I passed him, heading for the door. “It’s sausage, egg, and cheese. It’s a delicious heart attack in a bag. And I got you OJ to wash it down with.”
“I’m not hungry,” I answered, and then I let the door shut behind me, heading to the gym with thoughts of last night replaying in my head.
I focused on meditation more than poses that morning, spending almost double the time in Savasana before finally making my way back to the room. My shower was hot but short, then I changed quickly and packed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder and heading to the car with Kalo in tow. I didn’t tell Emery I was ready to go, or ask him if he wanted me to drive again, I just gave him the same silent treatment he’d given me the day before and decided I didn’t care if it bothered him.
Part of my silence was driven by my stupid girly emotions over him hanging out with Emily all night. I
was annoyed not only at him, but at myself, because there was absolutely zero reason for me to be upset. I had no right, and yet, still I was.
But the other part stemmed from what I’d read in his journal.
My eyes were still puffy from the tears I’d spilled, and I pressed my cold fingers underneath them as Emery pulled onto the highway, studying my reflection in the small mirror on my sun visor. I looked like shit, and felt like it, too.
Popping it back into place, I chanced a glance at Emery, suddenly seeing him in a completely new light. I wanted to ask him about a million questions that morning, but instead I just stared at him until he returned my gaze, and then I turned to look out the window.
Eight hours passed without a single word between us.
Unlike me the day before, Emery seemed completely content with letting me be silent. He was too busy jamming out to his music, which ranged from classic rock to modern day country, to ask why I was sulking. I’d never heard such an eclectic taste in music, and had it been a normal day, I would have been laughing and singing along with him.
But it wasn’t a normal day.
The more I sulked, the more frustrated I became. I never sulked. I was always the happy girl, the positive girl, the silver lining girl. Tammy would always get annoyed at how positive I was. She would roll her eyes and scoff at me when she wanted to rant and I just gave her solutions, and positive quotes, and meditation mantras. The way I saw it, life was too short, too delicate to spend time and energy being miserable.
It was the first time in a long time, maybe ever, that I was alone with my negative thoughts.
I went from being ecstatic about leaving Mobile and chasing my dream to cursing myself for being so stupid. I ticked through all the reasons getting in the car with Emery was a terrible idea as we drove through Texas.
I don’t have a place to stay in Washington.
I don’t have a job lined up.
I don’t even have an acceptance letter to Bastyr.
Ever since I could remember, I’d saved and prepared for what would be the life-changing move for me. And then I threw all that out the door and jumped in a car with a stranger, a stranger who I now knew was suicidal — is suicidal? — and took a chance like it was exhilarating and fun and the stuff life is made of.
Stupid.
We passed a sign that said forty miles to Amarillo, and my eyes roamed the colors of all the fallen leaves surrounding the highway. Some trees were already completely bare, ready for winter, while others were still bright with yellows, oranges, reds, and browns. I personally liked the ones with just a few leaves left, those persistent ones that were holding on for dear life, not ready to leave summer yet.
The music died in the car, and I turned to Emery, who just pulled his hand back from the dial and placed it on the steering wheel again. He glanced at me, and we watched each other for a moment before I propped my chin on my hand again, eyes flashing over the sea of color.
“It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” he asked, speaking over the sound of the wind whipping through the car. “How beautiful everything is when it’s dying.”
I didn’t answer, but I glanced at him over my shoulder, eyes surveying the sad smile on his lips before I turned back toward the road.
“So, did we trade places?” he tried again. “Is this payback for me being a prick yesterday?”
“At least you admit it,” I murmured.
Emery chuckled, cutting around a Honda. “So, it is payback. An eye for an eye, huh?”
“I’m allowed to have a bad day,” I said, facing him as I crossed my arms over my chest.
“I never said you weren’t,” he mused. He was watching me through the dark tint of his sunglasses with an amused smirk on his stupid face. “It’s just that you’re usually so… sunshiney.”
“Don’t act like you know me. You don’t.”
“Fair point,” Emery agreed, shifting his hands on the wheel. “Let’s change that. Tell me more about you.”
At that, I laughed. Full-on, head tilted back, deep from the belly laughed.
“You are so…. ugh!”
“Frustrating? Annoying? Unfairly charming?”
“Yes,” I grunted, and then I realized the last thing he said. “No!”
Emery laughed. “Just get it all out, Little Penny. You’ve been stewing for eight hours now, that pot has got to be ready to blow.”
Huffing, I turned in my seat, tucking my prosthetic leg up under my other knee so I could face him more. “Fine. You want to know what I’ve been thinking?”
He nodded.
“I’ve been thinking about how stupid I am. Not just for jumping in a car with a guy I don’t know and leaving literally everything behind other than my yoga mat and a few changes of clothes, but for doing so without making any kind of plan at all. I don’t have anywhere to stay in Washington, no job, no idea if I’ll even get into my dream school that I based this whole…” I paused, hands flitting around my face. “Hair-brained plan around. And, quite frankly, you make me feel stupid, too.”
His brows pulled inward at that.
“Because for some unknown reason, I like you, and I want to know more about you, but yesterday you made me feel more like a nuisance than anything else. Not only did you not talk to me all day, but when you finally did, you put me down for wanting to find love in my life, like it was a naive fantasy for little girls. Then you left with Emily,” I added, throwing my hands up to stop him from saying anything when he opened his mouth to interrupt me. “And that’s fine, because you don’t owe me anything, and she was gorgeous and sweet and fun and I get it. You’re a guy, you… wanted to have a fun night. Fine. But I’m not like you, okay? I’ve never done this before.”
He watched me have a mental breakdown in his car, and I swear it was like he was seeing me for the first time.
“I’m not accustomed to sleeping in a room with the opposite sex, or driving across the country without a plan, or sharing this much space with someone whom I can’t tell if I annoy or intrigue. And it may sound stupid to you but I was worried last night. I didn’t know where you were, or if you were coming back to the room, or if I would have to somehow try to hunt down your body and find your phone and call your mom to tell her you were dead.”
My heart slipped into my stomach at that admission, because I knew it stemmed from reading his journal, from prying into his private life that he hadn’t invited me into.
I sighed. “And I don’t know, I just… I just feel stupid. I feel like a stupid little girl with stupid little dreams and a stupid little belief that life will turn out to be everything I’ve ever wanted it to be, because it sure as hell hasn’t been even anything remotely close up until this point.”
My chest deflated along with the hope I’d held onto for so long, and I sank into the seat, staring through the front windshield at the cars ahead of us.
Emery was still looking at me, his attention bouncing from the road to me and back again. He was quiet for a moment, then he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “You’re not stupid. Sometimes I have bad days, and yesterday was one of them.” He swallowed, and my throat was tight again, his handwriting still fresh in my mind. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again, but I just want you to know it had nothing to do with you. You don’t annoy me.” He made sure to look at me again when he said that part. “And I’m an open book. So, what do you want to know? Ask me anything.”
“An open book,” I challenged, face flat. “Like the kind from Harry Potter with the teeth the size of my head inside?”
He laughed, the sound warming me from the inside out. “Careful, your nerd is showing.”
“I like my nerd.”
“So do I,” he answered quickly, and a blush creeped its way up my neck when he pushed his sunglasses up, his eyes connecting with mine.
I didn’t mind when he looked into my eyes. I didn’t mind it at all.
“Well, first thing’
s first, what’s your phone number?”
Emery chuckled, listing it off as I typed it into my phone.
“When’s your birthday?”
“Hey, it’s my turn. Don’t be greedy.”
I threw my hands up in mock surrender.
“You keep talking about your dream school,” he said as we pulled back into the passing lane. “Which school?”
Kalo popped up from her seat in the back, excited we were talking again. She licked his ear and we both laughed as she climbed into the front seat and onto my lap.
“Bastyr,” I answered, rubbing behind Kalo’s ears. “I want to go into Naturopathic Medicine.”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
“Voodoo,” I joked. “Basically medicine without stuffing people full of pills. Trying to use what the earth gives us naturally to live a long and healthy life.”
“This from the girl who devoured an entire bag of beef jerky in front of me yesterday.”
I sighed. “Yeah, well, I’m sure my diet will change once I’m there. In my defense, it’s kind of hard to eat anything even remotely healthy in Alabama.”
“Fair,” he said with a smile. “So, you want to help people. I’m shocked. Never would have guessed.”
I swatted at his arm. “Funny. When’s your birthday?”
“June first.”
I squinted one eye, thinking through the calendar as Kalo hopped out of my lap again and into the back. She propped herself between our seats, her tongue blowing in the wind.
“Gemini,” I finally said, and it all clicked together. “Oh, yeah, I can totally see that.”
“See what?”
“It just tells me a lot about who you are,” I explained. “The need for adventure, the charming personality, the habit to go from light and fun to pensive and deep in a split second.”
Emery threw his head back in a laugh. “Oh God, please tell me you don’t actually believe that my sign tells you who I am? Let me guess, you’re an Aquarius and have it tattooed on your foot.”
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