I was miserable before, but now that I’ve had a taste, a glimpse of what it could be like, I’m wrecked.
I wanted them to let me go, to let me leave without a fuss. I wasn’t ready to talk. I needed to get away. I’m still not ready, but a small part of me thought they would come looking for me, find me, and try to make me stay.
But four days later, I’m still alone.
Longing for them to find me, even when it’s also the worst-case scenario in my head, is telling.
Maybe I’m crazy after all.
Saylor is still gone too. I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’t his usual appearing and disappearing act. It was something else. Somehow, it seemed he got fainter the farther we got away from his brothers. I’ve no idea if that’s the case or if something else happened. I can’t seem to make any sense of it. I’ve never seen anything like this before, but I could say that for everything concerning Saylor.
Because that’s the only theory I had and still have. After he disappeared, I turned back to the camping site Saylor had pointed out, thinking maybe it was the farthest distance he could safely make. I couldn’t bring myself to drive back in the direction I wanted to flee from, even by just a mile.
In their direction.
But maybe, just maybe, he could find me here.
I should have left. I could have just continued to drive away, drive away from them. But a nagging feeling told me I would have made my way away from Saylor too.
And I couldn’t do that. Not after what he told me and shared.
He’s mine.
I’m his.
Fuck the consequences.
I’ll take them all. I’ll work through my hang-ups with ghosts, through my fear, through the guilt about keeping him here. I’ll do all of that just to have him.If he finds his way back to me.
I’ve been waiting and staying in the van, my days alternating between napping, sobbing my eyes out, getting mad, and screaming into my pillow before I step out for a few minutes to pay the daily fee to stay at the site and take care of business.
I’m almost out of money now.
I haven’t eaten or showered since before everything went to shit, and the stench inside the van is telling. But there’s nobody to complain anyway besides my nostrils, and they undoubtedly will start to complain if I keep this up for another day.
All the overthinking has its perks, though. It made me realize what I actually need.
Fuck them.
Fuck a home.
What I need is money.
It seems like I am the gold-digging whore North pegged me to be after all because I need money to fix the van and…
And then what?
Where does this leave me if I’m right and Saylor can’t move farther away than where I am right now?
Leaving without him?Not an option.
Just as staying here isn’t an option.
The feeling of being lost has never been this overwhelming before, not even when I lost Nan or when I got out of the institution, only to come home to an empty house without anybody waiting for me.
At least back then, I knew what I needed to do next to keep my promise.
There are no promises left. No next steps to take.
