by Ryan Michele
“Drew.”
At his name, Andi’s comforting arms tightened and her body stilled. She gasped, “What?”
I had told Andi everything about Drew, so she knew how much I loved him with everything I had. She knew every little, minute detail about our time together, including the crushing feeling his death had on me that I continued to carry around.
I pulled away, swiping the tears and snot covering my face. “I had Drew checked out by a guy I know from the bar. He found him, and he’s alive.”
“I…” She faltered. “Can you trust whoever this guy is that he’s telling you the truth?”
My heart kept tripping over itself. “I don’t trust anyone but you. However, he has no reason to lie.” I shook my head back and forth, trying to make sense of all of this, some of this, any of this. I had seen Drew’s life end. I knew I had.
“I don’t know what to say.” She relaxed her arms yet continued to hold me. Tears spilled everywhere, and by the time Andi pulled me back, her shirt was soaked. “What are you going to do?” she asked hesitantly.
I gave her the paper. “His address.”
She looked at the paper. “Are you going to go see him?”
I shrugged. At that moment, I didn’t know what I was going to do. All I knew for sure was, once again in my twenty-one years of existence, I was knocked away from any familiarity of knowing myself.
“I’m going with you.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say.
The night was spent with me crying in Andi’s arms. The way she held me as I sobbed for the man I had loved all my life showed me to the core what kind of person Andi was. She didn’t waiver or lessen her grip on me at any given time. I felt comforted, soaking up every minute of it.
I felt Andi’s body relax as she fell asleep. Me? I did not. I couldn’t. Too many thoughts were crammed into my head. First, was it really true that he was alive? If he was, did he remember me, think of me? Why didn’t he come and find me? I would have found him had the roles been reversed. Through all of this, I cried and cried, letting all those thoughts overtake me.
I woke with a start, having passed out from the tears. I looked around the bed, seeing Andi still fast asleep, curled in a small ball. I had only slept maybe an hour. Every cell in my body was telling me I had to get to Drew. He was alive on this planet, and I had to get to him. I had to see him.
I slid out of bed, dressed, grabbed the note with the address, and flew out the door.
The only thought that kept on repeat through my head was, He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s alive. I couldn’t help smiling at that. The boy I loved was alive, and I was going to see him. Nothing else mattered, because today, I would see him. Today, I would get to experience a small bit of joy for once. I would get my small splash of hope.
The five-hour drive went by in a flash, consumed as I was with my nervous energy. When I got to the address, though, I had major second thoughts.
I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have entertained the idea. The idea was better than the actual vision burned in my eyes, never to be scraped away.
I sat it my car, staring at the house my GPS had led me to. It was a one-level with some type of greenish worn siding around it. It wasn’t new yet wasn’t old, either. The home had flowers and bushes around the front and sides. It had a Welcome flag hanging from a pole by the door. It was a home for a family, a home I once daydreamed of building with the very man who owns it. The house felt like that, like a home, a happy one.
I had been there for hours, just staring, sure the neighbors would see me and call the cops on me, but so far, so good. I couldn’t stop staring at the house. Could Drew really be inside there? No, this was all some sort of sick joke. It had to be.
That was when it happened.
A small, blue car came from down the street and turned into the driveway. I was parked far enough away that they could see my car, but not really make me out inside. I wasn’t sure I wanted to knock on the door. Hell, I didn’t think I could.
The car came to a stop, and a beautiful woman with long, straight, blonde hair got out. Her body was perfect, not a blemish anywhere. My stomached rolled, hoping the thoughts swirling in my head were wrong, so very, very wrong. This just couldn’t be.
She walked over to the back door and opened it. A little boy with dishwater-blond hair cut short, small shorts, and a shirt with a dump truck on the front got out of the car. The smile on his face radiated for miles.
The front door to the house swung open, and a man exited the door. He had dishwater brown hair, a lean but muscular build, and he was tall, so very tall. It wasn’t until his face lit up in the most perfect smile that it hit me like a ton of bricks coming down on my chest.
Drew. He was alive. He was here. Not dead.
The grip on my steering wheel became painfully tight as tears began to well up in my eyes.
Alive. Here.
Drew bent down as the little boy ran into his arms. My breath left my body as every synapse in my head forgot to fire. He was alive, and he had a little boy. Same hair and I would bet my life they had the same green eyes.
I had thought Drew had taken my heart with him when he died in front of me, but that was a lie. This right here was ripping my soul and what was left of my heart out of my body.
He was alive, and he had a little boy … without me.
I watched as Drew stood to his full, healthy height as the woman walked right up to Drew, and he wrapped his other arm around her and kissed the top of her head. He had a woman who was not me.
He smiled at them both, love pouring out of him, and I broke. The images burned with hot irons into my retinas, searing, branding their spots forever. My insides twisted so painfully I had to wrap my arms around my stomach as fresh tears skidded down my cheeks.
It was official. I had … nothing. There was absolutely nothing for me to believe in. It was ironic that I had wished over and over for Drew to be alive, and he was. It had come true. But the cost was me, because seeing him alive and happy was like watching him die all over again. Only, this killed me more than watching the life drain from his eyes. This destroyed me, and I fell deeper.
I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. He was here, and he never came back for me. He never looked for me. He never…
The tears turned into sobs, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the only guy I had ever cared about. The only one who ever gave a shit about me in my pathetic life. The one guy who made plans with me to get away from the life we were living and be free. The guy I saw my future with. The guy I dreamed about at night and watched the light leave his eyes over and over on replay. I relived his death every time I closed my eyes, yet he was alive and happy without me.
Everything inside me hurt. The tears became so bad I had to shut my eyes. It was physically impossible for me not to. I didn’t want to take my eyes off him, though. I feared this was all a dream and he would disappear, so I fought it. The sad thing was another part of me was hoping this was a dream and I would wake up so I didn’t have any of this etched in my head. With all these conflictions, I had no direction.
He was going on with his life, moving on, when here I was, a pathetic excuse for a human, stuck back in time. Me, here, crying over something I had lost so long ago. The hurt was too much, and I had to cry. I could feel the hole beneath me opening up, and there was no way to stop it. All those years of loss were for … nothing, and now they had turned into something I didn’t know how to process.
When Drew pulled the woman in for a tight hug and whispered something in her ear, she pulled away, smiling up at him. Then the three of them went into the house, Drew never letting go of either of them.
This had to be a joke. It had to.
I sat there for hours, unable to wrap my head around what I had seen. I wondered what they were doing inside. Were they having lunch together, watching TV, or was Drew playing with his kid? The more I thought, the bigger the hole beneath me expanded.
When the door to the house opened again, the little boy came running out faster than a shot. Drew and the woman were on his heels. Drew turned around and locked the door then walked with the woman to the car and got in the driver’s seat. I watched as the car sped off down the road, but I was rooted to the spot. I sat there until night fell, unable to force myself to go. I sat there until my cell rang, snapping me back to the present, knowing there was only one person on this planet it could be—my saving grace.
“Yeah?” I answered softly.
Andi’s voice came across the line. “You okay?” She knew exactly where I was without even telling her. That was how well she knew me.
“No. I’m nowhere near okay.”
I didn’t know how I made it home. I didn’t even remember driving, but somehow, I got there. When I pulled up to the complex, Andi came barreling down the sidewalk like she had been waiting for me. I was a zombie and could barely walk to her. I didn’t have the strength.
“Oh, baby,” she said, wrapping her arms around my body and holding me up.
Lone, hiccupped whimpers came from my throat. I had already cried so much during the drive home. I didn’t think I could do more, but I was wrong. The dam collapsed, and I fell to my knees. Andi tried to pick me up yet ended up falling to the ground, as well, my weight being too much for her.
Weeks passed in a blur of tissues and emotionally exhausted sleep. I asked for time off from both of my jobs. After all, I couldn’t move from the bed, let alone go to work. The diner fired me after a week, and Judi called from the bar yesterday saying she had to fill my spot. Now I had nothing there, either, but I didn’t care. Rent was due last week, but I didn’t have the money and got an eviction notice three days ago. Good thing I knew how the system worked. I had a good two to three weeks before I was actually forced to leave by the cops.
I didn’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t care to try to figure it out, either. I was too lost in my head to make any sense of the world, so having a roof over my head or bills paid wasn’t on the radar of giving two shits.
I wasn’t sure what was worse: watching the boy you love die before your young eyes or finding out five years later that he was alive, happy with a woman and a child, and now a man.
I should have been a bigger person and thought “At least he’s happy. He deserves that. I’m happy for him.” Nevertheless, I couldn’t be that bigger person. I couldn’t feel that happiness for him, not when I ached so badly inside. I wanted him to be hurt, too, not carrying on with his life like I had never existed, like I was a blip on his screen as he continued his happy life.
As the days dragged on in one continuous loop, the hurt turned into anger and then back into hurt. I couldn’t stop it, didn’t even try. The dark hole I had been trying to avoid for years since Drew left me the first time finally fully sucked me under. I let it consume me, eat me up, and swallow me whole. I was surrounded in a thick, dark cloak of pain and despair that nothing could cut through.
I had thought I was alone before. With my mother and father being the assholes they were and then all of the foster homes never great, I had only had Drew. I had only had him for two years, and those were the best two years of my life. Even if I was doing things I wasn’t proud of, they were the best because I had someone. I had someone I could turn to, talk to, and count on. I had my person, and I had never once in my life had a person.
Part of me wished I had never had it, never had him. Then I wouldn’t know what it was like to lose it twice now. The ache burned so deeply in my soul and the pain rolled and gained momentum from day to day, building, digging, and embedding itself into my soul.
“Eat,” Andi said at the doorway of my bedroom.
I groaned and turned slowly around in my bed, staring at her holding a cup. I didn’t want to eat. I didn’t deserve to eat, not when other people out there needed it. I was just a waste of space in this world. They should have food to live, not me.
Andi being Andi, I knew she wouldn’t give up, but I didn’t want to give in. Like everything else, it was pointless.
I regretted giving Andi a key to my place. One, for this, and two, because I never knew for sure if she locked the door after she came in. Having that worry in my head drove me farther down the rabbit hole that was becoming my life. I wanted to get up and check the doors and windows. I wanted to make sure everything was locked and secure, but I couldn’t make myself get out of bed. Still, that compulsion rode me hard, suffocating me.
When Andi rolled me over onto my back, I didn’t fight her and used the little bit of strength to help her.
“Drink,” she ordered, holding the lukewarm chicken broth to my lips.
I tried to drink it, but it kept catching in my throat, causing me to cough, gagging on it. Andi didn’t stop, even as my stomach rolled from the liquid. She kept at it until I drank every bit.
“Good. Want to shower?” she asked, sighing as I threw the covers up over my head.
“No.”
Andi was the only thing keeping me alive at that point, something I lay in bed all night, thinking about.
I couldn’t do it anymore. There was absolutely no reason for me to carry on like this. Having Andi care for me wasn’t living. I was a burden on her, just like I was to my biological mother. I didn’t want that for Andi. She of all people deserved better.
The black hole became deeper as I sank into it willingly. My entire life I had been a disappointment, a disgrace, a nuance, a punching bag, a sex toy … alone. Me, myself, and I. And I didn’t like either of those three people. Each one of them was shitty. I didn’t deserve to be here, didn’t deserve to breathe air.
The light that Andi shone on me was fading to the point where it was lost. It was so far away it was unreachable. There was no coming back from this. There was no revival. There was nothing. I was nothing.
As I sat on my bed, my feet touching the floor, the heaviness of the cold metal sat in my hand. The gun was so weighted it felt as if it were all my emotions swirling around in my head, now sitting in my hand and under my control. For once, it was under my control. This was the one tool I could use to make everything stop, to make everything go away, to make me go away.
It was my answer to end the pain.
I stared at the shiny, silver metal as flashes of Drew’s vacant eyes flashed through my head. The pain of that hit me all over again, but the gun could take it all away, even the good of when I saw Drew again and the bad of finding out he had a son and a woman.
Who would care? I mean, Drew didn’t care to find me; he had moved on with life. He certainly wouldn’t miss me.
The burn in my chest only grew as the thoughts raced through my head, and I realized how fucked in the head I really was. I never really had a shot in this world from the moment I was born. I was never anything. I was and always would be nobody. I let some guy fuck me over and over again while thinking I was protecting Drew. I made things work while I was on the streets. Every, single fucked up thing I did was to survive a life that I should have disposed of years ago. The world wouldn’t miss me.
The only one who would was Andi. She was everything I was not. She had the ability to push through all the bad and be strong when everything crashed around her. She would survive and be better since I wouldn’t be holding her down.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t. I was drowning in darkness and losing what little I thought of myself. I had held her back, making her think she had to take care of me. She needed to be free of me, free to live her life without me and my fucked up existence.
I needed it all to end. I wanted to disappear, vanish, leave this life, not feel anything anymore, make everything whirling in my head stop and quiet. I needed to fall. I needed to succumb to the losses, to the unanswered requests, to the wishes not granted. I needed to fall into the pit of emptiness and make it all go away, to find a sliver of peace.
“What are you doing!” Andi screeched, making me jump as she bore down on me, not stopping until she was at my side and
the gun was in her hand. I didn’t even have time to struggle, which would have been futile, anyway, since I was so weak.
“Give it back.”
Her brows were knit between her angry eyes as I spoke, her long hair pulled back in a ponytail so tight it made her look madder than I had ever seen her. The fury pulsed from her in thick waves.
“That’s fucking it!” She opened the clip on the gun and pulled all the bullets out. Her hands didn’t even shake; she was in full control of the weapon.
I didn’t even know she knew how to do that. I had never seen her with a gun in my life. I was taught on the streets by a guy named Tim. I never saw him again afterward. Andi, though, she was too perfect to know anything about the underbelly of society.
It felt like I was on a cloud above, looking down at my best friend as she moved. Even when the anger poured off her in waves, it didn’t penetrate me. I was so high above that nothing mattered.
“We’re taking a shower.” She said nothing else of the gun as she stuffed everything into the big bag she had draped over her shoulder when she had come in.
I didn’t want anything to do with the shower. I wanted everything to end. Showering was least on my priority lists. However, the strength to fight for the gun back wasn’t there. No fight was.
The thump of Andi’s bag hitting the floor had my eyes moving to her angry ones. She started tearing off her clothes, shoes, and panties before coming toward me naked. I did nothing. She then undressed me and hauled me into the shower, coming in with me.
Tears spilled over my face as I shook my head. “Just let me be done with this, Andi,” I whispered.
She turned me around, the spray of the shower hitting my back as she held me up. “Listen to me,” she growled, her words echoing through the tight space. “This shit ends right here and right now. I tried to let you work through it. I tried to be patient. I tried to let you do your thing.” The water pelted my back, but it was like I couldn’t feel a thing. “This?” She gave me a shake. “You trying to kill yourself? No. I’m fucking done!”