Jayden - Me of him? Fucking hardly, babe.
Shaking my head
Me - mmhummm keep telling yourself that.
Dropping my phone on the top of the vanity I step into the hot stream of water coming from my rainfall shower faucet. I just stand there listening to the music playing as the warmth seeps in and washes all the fucking ridiculous from my life, mind and fucking soul.
I stand in front of the mirror, water dripping from my body as I Hate Everything About You from Three Days Grace screams out around me. I have lost count of how many times over the years I’ve been wrapped inside addiction and then free of it only to be back in it. I look into the mirror and seen my bottom lip quiver as tears roll down my cheeks. I have a feeling of pure hate for myself to the point where I want to end it all and have no tomorrow right now, as I stare at this shell of a person that I have become. I allowed a guy, an experience to make me into the one thing I hate, the one thing my granddaddy hated, and he loved all of me until I became this. Pulling at my hair and scratching at my face I scream at the top of my lungs till I can no longer stand. Falling to the floor I just shake and cry for God knows how long. The music continues to play as the banging on my door gets louder, faster, harder. ‘Fuck off Blair!” I choke out through raw rasps as I curl into a ball and whimper my way into the spiral of wasted emotion and benzo.
Waking up, God knows how long I was out for, what the time is and better yet what the hell is that sound and smell coming from all around me. As I slipped into my silk robe that was hanging on the back of the door my music still plays out around me this time it was the haunting sound off #1 Crush by Garbage.
How poetic I will bleed for you and feel pain for you. I broke my own heart loving you I scream in the empty room. How did I let him violate me so badly, fuck me over so bad that I don’t even see me anymore.
Padding down my hall I am high, I am cold, and I am over feeling way more than I should. I am currently doing time inside my own brain and have no room for anything other than my very own manifested problems. Halting fast my hands flicking out to the wall to steady myself I see Blair in my lounge with three delivery men of some sort and so many different flowers inside all different vases, boxes, baskets and jars. Harry is there also holding the door.
Trying to make myself move rather ladylike and not wasted into the now small space that was my living room to the kitchen I need water and fast. I gulp down three glasses as I watch the men continue to fill my apartment. One of the men appears in front of me. “Please sign here and this is for you.” He points to the paper and then hands me an envelope.
Opening it with shaky hands I feel so many eyes on me that I stop. I place the envelope down and look at them before moving forward.
“Thank you, guys. You all, and I mean all, can leave now.” The delivery men just nod and walk from my space. It’s the two men that claim to have my best interests at heart that don’t listen.
“Look you see that I am fine that I don’t need a babysitter so you can go.” I say pushing them towards my door.
“Your eyes and jerky movements tell a different story, Tru,” Blair points out so observant.
“Blair, I am fine, sick and tired and wanting to be alone to process what and who all this is from.” I say placing my hands to my hips.
“Well, I think we know who from, love.” Harry says turning his kind old tired eyes to investigate mine. “You need me you know where I am.” He smiles a warm caring smile and I just nod tears pricking inside my eyes and I hate it. Harry walks from my apartment leaving Blair there staring at me. “I’m fine. Now, fuck off, will you? I will call you in the morning. We can coffee or some shit,” I say trying so hard to get rid of him.
“Come to a meeting tonight and I will leave you alone.” Looking at him as I think it over, I am a high douche laughing inside my head. I nod, “Fine, see you at 8pm.” With that I twist his body toward the door and slam it shut behind him before falling onto the couch. I’m surrounded by the most stunning flowers and roses I have ever seen. My fingers glide over the clear tube with a remarkable rose inside that came with a letter.
Opening the letter, I suck in a deep breath. I know who this is from and I know it will hurt whatever it says.
To the woman who cussed me out, sassed me, and turned a blind eye to my smart-ass ways, who avoided my advances, turned me down and called me James Dean. I am so sorry for all the ball sack shit I did Lady Love. It was within your arms where I was me, walls down and shed bare. For that and the time with you I am thankful. Please choose me... please stay...
J x
(James Dean, baby)
Tears roll down my cheeks as sobs rack up through my body. Taking the rose and opening the tube I pull it out bringing it to my nose. It’s one of the most beautiful things I have felt, smelt and seen. Clinging to it tightly I hold it close to my heart as a message pops up on my phone. It’s a video. I open it, it’s of Jayden sitting in his hotel room against a wall with just track pants on. Damn, he’s hot. No wonder why I allowed him to break my heart. I was thinking with my pussy and not my head.
He opens his mouth and the most inanely broken message is spoken to me with a song that broke the last part of me.
Wiping the tears from my face, I drop my robe to the floor. I look at myself in the mirror. I am skinny and gaunt; my skin is deathly pale with black rings circled under my eyes. Grazing my fingers down over my stomach to my hip bones I twist slightly my refection makes me feel so sick. It has so much to say. Addict screams at me blinking like a neon sign.
I am bound to a benzo. Bound. Bound to the feeling, bound to the loneliness that this way of living brings. Bound to Jayden James.
God, please, I need more than a meeting. I need a reality of a clean forever. I had it and I have fallen now. I tiptoe through the memories of a yesterday where I could look at myself and be proud. Now, I look at myself and feel nothing at all, just sadness. Rage. Fear. No hope here. No love. No light.
My phone is ringing. The light fills the space between me and the floor. I can see the name reflect on the reflection of the mirror. Jayden James always seems to know when I need his voice the most. The problem is his voice is the one thing that kills me more than the guilt of popping benzo’s and drinking in the dark.
He was sent to wash away the empty of a life alone. Living only for my job and yet he brought me to my knees. Breaking me and trying to piece me back together a world away. He used me to hide and I allowed it. When the world called him, he flew to them arms wide open leaving me vulnerable and lost. A little lamb without a shepherd. I just wanna lay down for a little while and close my eyes. I don’t wanna wipe away the tears and I don’t wanna hide the pain. I wanna feel. All the drugs make it all numb and seem alright till the morning light hits and I realize that I wasted away hours and spent it inside a vortex of lies my brain told my body. I wonder if he would come and wash away my sin and untie these bonds.
I wonder what he would say when I tell him that I am falling far deeper than I have ever been. That’s the difference with an addict when they fall from that wagon. They fall far and fast. We have all been here once before, our souls are lost, and we can no longer find what our bodies’ limits are because we have pushed the boundaries so far with a previous addiction. Then we stop. Try to suffocate it with meetings and rehab that now it takes the taste and runs, runs so fast that we no longer know the purpose or the pain. We just live within the flashing, fleeting moments of each high and try to keep the low from grazing our body and reminding us that we are no longer here anymore.
We settle the score between addict and human. The deep pull that comes with ghosts living within the arms of angels. Rain falls and the sun dries the ground, but can’t you hear my screams for a better tomorrow because today, fuck, today is painful and hard. I am lost and alone and I don’t like it anymore.
Me - You have a thousand faces, tell me, can you tell me which one is you. The real you. This is the message I type to Jayden as I fall to the floor for the third time today. I like it down here. It’s lower than any high and it’s softer than any low.
