I called her again last night. I promised myself that I wouldn’t call her anymore, but I’m weak and I miss her so fucking much. All I want is to hear her voice.
For the briefest of moments, I thought she had answered the call. I might have conjured that up in my whiskey-addled brain, but I swear I could hear her quiet sobs on the other end of the line.
It’s like I’m grieving a person that’s still alive and it’s driving me to madness.
I can’t remember the last time I was sober.
Can’t remember the last time I ate anything or even showered.
The days have blurred into one long never-ending nightmare, and I don’t know where I’m supposed to go from here.
I don’t know how to move forward without her.
All I know is, I don’t want to.
Every time I close my eyes I see her. When I open my eyes, I see her. She’s everywhere and nowhere all at once. I can’t even look at Bella, because every time I do all I see is her best friend and every time, it kills me a little bit more.
Heartbreak fucking sucks.
My entire future crumbled right in front of me and I was powerless to stop it.
Half of my soul is missing, and I don’t know how to live without it.
One day, I might. But that day isn’t today.
With a long, disappointed sigh, I place the phone back down, pull the pillow back over my face and let the darkness swallow me once more.
***
I’ve relived those days over and over in my head since Daisy told me what happened on our wedding day.
I’ve been trying to understand what she could have been going through in the days that followed. While I was getting lost in a bottle of whiskey, where was she?
Was she in the hospital?
How long was she there for?
Why wasn’t I informed? I’m her husband after all. Shouldn’t I have been informed that my wife was there?
Did she tell them not to contact me?
Do I even have the right to be upset about this? I could have tried harder. I was moments away from calling the local hospitals to ask if anyone by her name had come in. But then I spoke to her mom and all of that went out the window.
I have so many questions I still need answering.
Hell, I think I might have more questions now than I had before.
But I’m not sure I’m ready to hear the answers.
I know I seem like a self-absorbed asshole. I’m aware that Daisy went through one of the worst things a woman can go through. And I know she had to have been dealing with more than I could ever understand.
But I also can’t forget the way I felt in the wake of it all. I can’t get myself to understand why she felt the need to leave.
We could have been there for one another. We could’ve grieved our childtogether.It’s the secretiveness of it all that bothers me. I know her parents knew.
There’s no way that they didn’t.
And somehow, them knowing makes the betrayal of it all that much more significant.
