“You must. What would your Lakshmi say?”
She’d tell me to find a meeting. Rather, she’d threaten me into it. So would Sam, and Craig, forever the peacemaker, would offer to cook me supper or go see a film and then, over the length of an evening, slowly manipulate me into going to a ruddy, rotten,wretchedmeeting.
A mere three weeks away from my friends, from my carefully controlled environment, and all the work I’d done, all the progress I’d made over the past year, was effing and blinding at me from the bin. This trip was supposed to be the catalyst through which I would redeem myself. Prove that I was, against all expectations, a real person. Not merely a person, but a person that a corporation like Drake House might consider as a long-term investment.
And instead my head pounded, and I bent to drink more water from the tap, letting it run over my face as well. I couldn’t stop all at once. The convention was right around the corner, only a week away—shit—and if I showed up shaking with the sweats and the trots ... The thought did not bear contemplation. I had to be smart about this, control myself like a rational adult with the barest hint of moral fiber.
“You still there?” Karim’s voice echoed off the tile surrounding, and I fought the urge to simply hang up.
“Aye, Karim, thank you. I’ll find a meeting. Good night,Sidi.”
“Good afternoon, Armand.”
I hung up and returned to staring at myself in the mirror and making promises. There was a solution: not temperance, but moderation. Prudence. Calm, rational, good choices that I made for my own benefit.
For example, coffee.
Once I was back in my bedroom with a mug of sanity and a leftover muffin, I settled on the floor against the side of my bed and took stock of last night’s failure to produce. I’d inked a page and a half, and then at least had the presence of mind to notice that my crosshatching had turned somewhat less than precise. I held my hand out over the floor—just the slightest of tremors. A quick nip would take care of that, and I could make up the work. Of course I could.
I settled down to work, trying to find comfort in the familiar world of ink and sable brushes and nib pens. I missed the contained little bubble I had at my drafting table back home, but the lap desk I’d brought with me had served me well. Though, Ididneed more light.
I steeled myself before standing and reaching for the blinds, but just as I did, my phone chirped from its place by the bed. I reached for it instead—almost leapt. I hadn’t heard from Lucas since the day before, so I was surprised—relieved, even—to see a block of texts coming in one after the other:
Lucas:But how do you know if someone is right or wrong for you
Lucas:people wear all kinds of faces in public vs in private, how are you supposed to know who to trust?
Lucas:and if someone shows you who they really are but you don’t believe them, and don’t believe everyone else who tells you for years that this person is no good, then does that mean you deserve what you get? Asking for a friend
Lucas:sorry if this is tmi, it’s just
Lucas:this is what I don’t understand about skyler getting up naked in front of people because like I never realized how much more naked you feel when someone who knows you, knows every part of you, decides that those parts are broken
I sat back down on the bed, staring at my phone, heart in my mouth. I tapped out a reply before I could think on it for too long,I know how that is.
That wasn’t enough. I didn’t want Lucas to think I was placating him or offering empty cliches. I swallowed.
Armand:I’ve been there. It’s such a bloody mindfuck.
Armand:Like who can I blame for my own stupidity? And how can I ever trust myself again?
And then I panicked.
Armand:not that you’re stupid, I just mean this sounds similar to something I went through with an ex
Lucas:yeah
Lucas:Did you ever recover?
I put my phone down and scrubbed at my hair with both hands. Why was this sohard? I took a deep breath and picked it up again, carefully texting.
Armand:Yes and no.
Armand:My friends helped, so I wasn’t alone. I tried to isolate myself but they wouldn’t let me.
Armand:One person can break you down but when so many people are trying to build you up, it’s only fair to try and stand.
Oh god. Shut up. Whattripe.
