“You’re so full of yourself, too.”
She gasps in feigned indignation. “I was about to bring a bottle of vodka but since you wanna be a jerk, guess I won’t.”
“Wait a second, you alcoholic,” I laugh. “When’s the last time you drank?”
“Does it matter? You sounded like you needed a drink, so as the best bestie in the world, I was gonna get wasted with you. Count that as my good deed for the day.”
“Leave that damn bottle where you found it and bring your ass to my place,” I order. “I’m serious, Liv. I don’t want to see you drink.”
She groans loudly into the phone. “Fine. You’re such a buzzkill.”
“Shut up and just come over.”
“Okay, okay,” she says and hangs up.
Even with all of the shit I have on my plate, I can’t help but worry about Liv’s alcoholic tendencies. I’ve tried telling her on countless occasions that she needs help regarding her problem, but she insists that she ‘doesn’t have a problem’.
I beg to differ. She drinks too much, and I’m concerned she may not be able to stop whenever she wants to. She claims otherwise but I don’t believe her.
***
“I figured he wouldn’t take it well, but this is just…gosh I’m sorry, Vi.” She stares at me, lips shut tightly and fingers twitching as though she wants to take my hand but knows better.
I let my head slump against her shoulder, ants crawling on the spot where we touch. “I don’t know what to do. I know he needs time, and I don’t blame him if he never wants to see me again but,” my voice breaks, “I need him.”
She sniffles and I raise my head to notice tears in her eyes. “Sorry Visha, but if it’s not too painful for you, can I hug you? I feel like that’s something you may need but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Liv…” I look down at her hand and slowly thread my fingers with hers. “A hug is a bit much. I don’t think I’m ready yet but you’re right, it’s something I need right now.”
She squeezes my hand and nods. “I’m here.”
“Keep holding my hand,” I mutter, leaning my head back on her shoulder and counting the tears rolling down my cheeks.
“I will,” she assures, giving my hand a soft squeeze.
My phone buzzes against my leg. I throw a look at the screen through blurry eyes and swallow the lump in mythroat.
52
Aoi
Time doesn’t seem to flow anymore.
I lost all my appetite.
It doesn’t matter how many times Amira and Elena try to make me eat, I just can’t swallow anything. I think Sally came by earlier today, but I don’t remember much.
My mouth is dry, and my limbs are too heavy to lift as I slowly shift onto my back and stare at the ceiling. It’s dark in the bedroom, so dark and cold.
I’m not alone, but I’m so lonely.
Surrounded but barren inside.
The rate of my heart picks up the pace as a tear slides down the side of my eye and onto the pillow, but I can’t be bothered to wipe it and instead try to force myself up.
Why is my body so heavy?
How can a hollow heart weigh so much?
