A Grateful Kind of Love

by Ellie Wade

  “Good,” Landon says. “How was your day? How are you feeling? Is your body hurting?”

  I shake my head. “Not really. I took a couple of Motrin earlier, and that helped with the cramping. I feel okay.”

  Landon nods in acknowledgment. “Do you want to watch a movie tonight?”

  “Sure. Didn’t that new superhero one that you wanted to see just come out?”

  “It did. Is that what you’re in the mood for?” he questions, a hint of skepticism lining his voice.

  “Yeah. It sounds fine. Anything’s fine really.” I shrug.

  “All right. We can do that then.”

  “By the way, where’s Tom been?” I ask of Landon’s roommate. “He’s literally never here.”

  Landon chuckles. “Yeah. He’s in love. Stays over at his girl’s place all the time.”

  “Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t scaring him off or something.”

  He places his hand on my knee. “No, not at all.”

  I set my empty flurry cup down on the ground and scoot closer to Landon. He threads his fingers through mine as we swing.

  “I’m really glad that you’re feeling better today. Yesterday was rough.”

  I think back to my meltdown in the ER. “Yeah, it was horrible,” I agree.

  “I know you’re upset, and it will take you a while until everything is back to normal. But this really is for the best, Amy.” His words sound supportive, but I feel my skin heating with anger as he speaks them.

  I pull in a deep breath in an attempt to calm the rising fury in my chest. “What does that mean?”

  “Just that, though yesterday wasn’t ideal, it’s almost like a break for us, a Get Out of Jail Free card, you know?”

  “So, you’re saying that you’re glad we lost the baby?” I work to contain the shriek in my voice.

  “No, glad isn’t the right word … at all. Just that it wasn’t something we planned, obviously. It wasn’t something either of us were ready for. So, it’s almost a relief in a way.”

  I pull my hand from his and stand to face him. “Our baby dying is a relief?” I yell, causing his eyes to widen.

  He stands and reaches for my hand. “Let’s go inside,” he says under his breath, looking toward the people walking past the house on the sidewalk.

  I pull my hand from his grasp and storm inside.

  Landon follows me inside and closes the door. “Amy, don’t get mad. I’m not saying this all to upset you. You get where I’m coming from, right?”

  He tries to place his hand on my hip, but I brush it off.

  “No! I don’t. Regardless of whether or not we planned on having a baby, the fact was that we were going to have one, and now, you’re saying that you’re happy that we’re not?”

  “I mean, come on. Look past your sadness and tell me that you’re not a little relieved. Just yesterday afternoon, you were moping around, depressed that you were having it.”

  “Maybe, but I would’ve never wished this on it!” I cry.

  “I get that, and me either. But it happened. It wasn’t either of our faults. It’s just something that happens sometimes, and now that it has, can’t you admit that you’re just a little relieved?”

  “No, that’s horrible to even say!” I growl out.

  “You weren’t ready to be a mom, Amy. You’re not even halfway through your first semester of college. I surely wasn’t ready. There’s a lot more I need to do with my life before settling down and starting a family. We would have dealt with it, naturally. But come on … neither of us wanted it!” he says, his tone frustrated.

  “Of course I wasn’t ready, Landon. Most people in our situation aren’t. But I had seven more months to get ready. You and I made a baby, one that we would’ve loved. I could’ve still finished school, and you could’ve still done everything you want. We would’ve figured it out. It would’ve been great.” Tears fall down my cheeks.

  Landon shakes his head. “I don’t think it would have, Amy. I think that’s your guilt or something talking, but it’s not the rational part of your brain. You were around the last month, yes? It sucked. You weren’t the same. We weren’t the same. It was horrible. Neither one of us was happy.”

  I roll my eyes. “Oh, that’s nice, Landon. Just wonderful. So, this past month has been so horrible for you then?” I raise my arms. “Well, you’re off the hook now! Aren’t ya? No more baby! You’re free. You don’t have to stay with me out of obligation. You can go on your merry way and fuck your way through campus again. You’re free!” I glare toward him before walking abruptly to his room to get my stuff.

  “Amy, stop,” he calls after me. “That’s not what I meant. It’s not what I want.”

  I empty my drawer and throw my belongings into a duffel bag. “Well, you’ve made it clear that all that matters is what you want! Well, never fear because I won’t be here to cramp your style any longer.”

  “Amy,” he pleads.

  “No, it was fun … this thing we had going.” I motion my hand between the two of us. “It was great, playing house with you and pretending we had discovered this lifelong love or some shit. But, clearly, you’re the same player you’ve always been.”

  Even as the insult leaves my mouth, I don’t believe it. Landon isn’t cruel and I know he cares for me. There’s a small voice within that tells me to stop and take a breath. But, I can’t. Rational thoughts aren’t for the heartbroken and in this moment, my heart is shattered.

  I stomp toward his door, and he puts his arm out to stop me.

  “Let’s just calm down and talk this through.”

  I shove his arm out of my way. “You’ve said enough. Stay away from me. I mean it.”

  “Amy, all I’m trying to say is that everything happens for a reason. Right? Haven’t you always told me that? We simply weren’t meant to have a baby right now,” he says from behind me as I walk as quickly as I can through his house toward the front door.

  I turn to face Landon, hot tears filling my eyes. “But we had a baby, Landon. Up until yesterday, we had one, and now, we don’t. Nothing about that is meant to be.” My words get stuck in my throat, and I swallow. “Nothing.”

  I didn’t think my heart could hurt any more than it already had. But, as bad as yesterday was, I wasn’t alone. I can’t even say that anymore.

  I search Landon’s eyes for anything to make me stay, but the black abyss in my aching chest deepens when I find nothing I need within them. He doesn’t understand.

  Hard desperation fills his gaze. “Don’t go, Ames.”

  A myriad of emotions weighs on me, but none of them convinces me to stay.

  A lonely tear falls down my face. “You’re such a disappointment.”

  I shake my head with a sigh and walk out.

  I make it to the end of Landon’s street, and I turn the corner so that I’m out of view of his house. I grab my cell phone from my pocket and make a call.

  It rings once before he answers.

  “Can you come get me?” I say on a sob, my frantic tears burning my face as they fall.

  “All right, let’s get this straight. You got pregnant the first night of college. You fell in love with your lifelong friend. You then lose the baby and find out your potential soul mate is actually a jerk. Now, you’re sad and alone, and no one knows because you haven’t told anyone. And the only friend you’ve made at college is me? Does that sum it up?” Sebastian cocks his head to the side.

  Despite the enormous weight of sadness pressing against my heart, I can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

  “Well, never fear, chica. I’m great with sad. I excel at depressing. I’m the man for you.” He pulls me into a side hug.

  I lay my head against his shoulder. “It’s strange how something you never knew you wanted can destroy you so completely. You know?”

  “Yeah. Well, I have no experience with what you’re going through. However, I’m no stranger to heartache and disappointment. And I always
tell myself what my granny used to tell me when I was feeling down. This, too, shall pass.”

  “Yeah,” I say quietly.

  “It will. Despite how bleak things feel now, time passes, and wounds heal.”

  “Yeah,” I say again. Deep down, I know he’s right, but at the moment, it’s hard to imagine ever getting over this level of pain.

  My phone buzzes with another text from Landon, and this time, I turn it off.

  “You sure you don’t want to hear him out?” Sebastian asks me.

  “I’m sure. He’s said enough.”

  “Okay. Well, let’s grab some Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and go veg out in my room while watching some tearjerkers. I say we start with The Notebook.”

  “Um, you’re supposed to try to make me feel better, Bass. How is watching depressing movies that make me cry supposed to help? Shouldn’t we go for a comedy?”

  He shakes his head. “No way, babe. You gotta trust the process. You might be able to mask pain with fake laughter, but it will still be there. The only way to truly heal is to feel the hurt. Ugly cry. Acknowledge the grief. Release the sorrow. Every tear that falls will carry some of the sadness away. Eventually, you’ll begin to fill yourself up with something else—maybe not true joy at first, but something other than despair. I’m telling you, no one can start you on your ugly-cry journey better than Noah and Allie.”

  “All right. Then, we’d better buy some Kleenex with our ice cream,” I say.

  “Kleenex, check.”

  “And gummy bears, like a five-pound bag,” I add.

  “Yes, sugar crashes really help with emotional breakdowns. Good idea. Gummy bears, check.”

  “What about chocolate?” I ask as we walk toward his truck.

  “It can’t hurt, chica. Are we talking chocolate with nuts, caramel? What’s your flavor?”

  “I’m thinking Twix, Snickers, and Reese’s?”

  “Covering all the bases. Nice! I like it.” He pulls out of the parking lot.

  “Thank you, Bass. Thank you for being such a great friend,” I tell him seriously.

  “Anytime, babe.”

  As we drive to the store to buy our supplies for healing heartbreak, according to Sebastian, I feel a sliver of hope. Sure, the plan is ridiculous, but what can it hurt? Who knows? Maybe it will even help. I can’t see anything making this day worse anyway. Regardless of how silly it seems—the ugly-cry movies, the mounds of candy and ice cream—it’s something. It’s a step. It’s a move away from Landon, an unwanted pregnancy, a lost baby, and a broken heart. I’d be willing to try anything to escape the pain of that mess. Above all, Sebastian’s plan means I’m not alone, and that in itself is enough because the hardest part of all of this is how isolated I feel.

  Amy

  Sleep.

  My bed.

  More sleep.

  I stare at the textbook on my desk in front of me as I absentmindedly hit my pencil eraser against the glossy page in a slow cadence. The equations on the page are a blur. Solving for X isn’t present in the priorities of my brain. The memory of losing my virginity to Everett invaded my dreams last night, and now, that past has been playing on a reel in my mind all day.

  I remember how shattered I felt then, and it’s almost laughable. The part of the memory that’s haunting me the most is how Landon helped me through it, as he did with all of my problems while growing up. Yet, now, when I’m truly destroyed, he’s the one person who can’t help me.

  It’s not lost on me how very messed up my dating history is. My first time having sex with someone who I’d thought was special ended in a cheating discovery. My second time was a rebound one-time thing with a random classmate that I wish had never happened. And let’s not forget my third time with my friend that resulted in a pregnancy and an eventual loss of both the pregnancy and the friend.

  For one who has always prided herself on her planning, I really suck at it.

  This is not how my life should be playing out.

  Three hard knocks resonate from the door. My eyes dart up from the book I’m reading as panic fills me.

  Megan comes out from her room.

  “No!” I hiss. “Don’t open it. Please.”

  She moves quietly toward the door. Each step she takes causes fear to rise up in my throat.

  Please, no.

  Megan looks back at me, confused before she presses her face against the door to look out the peephole.

  She turns around and whispers, “It’s your boyfriend.”

  I shake my head and stare at her, pleading.

  She studies me, unsure, before shrugging and heading back to her room.

  The knocks come again. My heart jumps. I can almost hear the desperation in the sound. I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. Fear weighs me down, and every second feels like hours.

  A great deal of time passes, and I’m certain he’s gone. He has to be. I close the book and set it aside. I inch my way toward the door and peer out the small hole.

  No one is there.

  Air fills my lungs.

  I open the door and peer down the hall.

  My heart sinks.

  Right before I close it again, I notice something on the ground.

  Tears fill my eyes when I see it.

  It’s a carton of cookies and cream ice cream and two plastic spoons.

  Atop it sits a note scrawled on the back of a receipt.

  I need a code 411.

  I need you.

  I’m sorry.

  Please call me.

  I crumble the note and let it fall to the ground before I close the door. I walk across the small common space to my bedroom, on the way to my second nap of the day. My bed has become my lifeline. An inescapable shadow surrounds me all of the time. The darkness I feel suffocates me. It’s only when I give in to it and allow it to pull me into slumber that I feel free because it’s then that I don’t feel anything at all.

  Amy

  A persistent friend.

  Vodka.

  Peanut brittle.

  I would hate myself if I could feel anything, but I can’t—at least, not right now. I merely exist in this world of tormented darkness where nothing makes sense. I’m lost.

  And, though I’m consumed with emptiness, I’m oddly full. Regret, remorse, and sadness so massive within, so all-encompassing that I’m drowning.

  I’m lonely, but I don’t have the desire to be comforted.

  I’m sad, but nothing could cheer me up.

  I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep regardless of the countless hours I lie in bed each day.

  What’s wrong with me?

  I’d ask for help if I knew what to ask for.

  Each day is a struggle just to breathe. I go through the motions, coaxing myself through life.

  Get up.

  Get dressed.

  Breathe.

  Walk to class.

  Take notes.

  Breathe.

  Eat something.

  Show up.

  Breathe.

  Attending college here has been my number one goal in life since I was young. I can’t waste this opportunity. Whatever is going on with me has to end, and when it does, I want a life. I deserve that.

  My mom once told me that, when something in life is hard, I need to fake it until I make it. If I go through the motions long enough, they’ll become real, and I won’t be pretending anymore. I do nothing but fake it—all day long. I go through my day as a college student and do everything I should be doing, as if on autopilot. But I feel as if I’m further away from reality than ever.

  This void is my new normal. I’m starting to think that it always will be.

  I lie in bed, facing the cement brick wall of my bedroom.

  I wonder how many coats of paint this wall has on it.

  I’m stuck in a prison of sadness, masquerading as a college dorm room.

  My cheek that’s pressed into the pillow itches. I go to wipe it and feel the pool of tears soaking the pillow be
neath my face.

  When did I start crying?

  “Hey, chica.” Sebastian’s cheerful voice echoes against the gloomy cell walls, startling me.

  “Hey,” I respond without turning to greet him.

  “You are aware that it’s Friday night?” his worried voice addresses my back.

  “I don’t really feel like doing anything. You should go have fun though,” I say, trying to covertly wipe the wetness from my cheeks.

  “I think I want to hang with you.”

  “I’m a total downer, Bass. I don’t feel like going anywhere.”

  “Who said anything about going anywhere? I’ve brought the party to you.” His chipper demeanor piques my interest, and I turn to face him.

  He’s kind enough to pretend he doesn’t notice my puffy eyes and tearstained skin. He holds out a bottle of vodka and a large clear tub of …

  “Is that peanut brittle?” I inquire.

  “Yes! It’s the best.”

  “Vodka and peanut brittle?” I ask skeptically.

  “Uh, yeah.” He rolls his eyes, as if to say, Of course. “And we’re bingeing the first season of Games of Thrones.”

  He sets his supplies down on my desk and starts fiddling with the cable wire.

  “Have you seen it?” he asks as he plugs an adapter into his phone.

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Ahhh … it’s epic.”

  I shrug in surrender and sit up. Bass drags my futon in front of the screen and starts tossing all of my pillows onto it.

  I’m not entirely certain getting drunk and watching an entire season of a show is what I need right now. But I do know that it can’t make things any worse.

  “All right, we will start that in a moment.” He grabs the bottle of liquor and holds it up like a trophy. “But, first … we vodka!”

  My lips tip up in a grin, and it slowly grows into a more profound smile when I realize I didn’t have to fake it.

  Landon

  “Fuck this,” I grumble as I pull into an empty parking spot in front of Amy’s dorm.

  I was heading to the gym to run off some of this pent-up anger that’d been brewing since Amy stormed away from me two weeks ago, but I’m done playing by her rules.