When my flight to Austin was delayed, I didn’t know whether to consider it a saving grace, giving me more time to situate my mind, or a punishment, forcing me to remain in a perpetual state of fretful remorse. I sent a text to Jake, letting him know I wouldn’t be getting in until after elevenP.M., which meant he would no longer be home. He’d be in the air, beginning his travel for a work retreat turned snowboard adventure that was taking him from Colorado to Northern California over the next six days.
I decided time and space would be a saving grace after all. I needed both to figure things out. My heart and my head were running in opposite directions, and I was too sick to my stomach with shame to listen to either of them. I couldn’t sort things out around Jake any more than I could at Mom’s. I needed to figure out my life, but once I walked through the door of my empty apartment, I couldn’t think at all.
I was hollow. Numb. Lost in my soul over what I had done. To Jake. To E. To everything I wanted, now crashing and burning before my eyes, and all I could do was watch, knowing I was the one to strike the match. I was fighting so hard to build the perfect life with the perfect man, but I was too broken and disheveled a person to keep it. Too much of a mess to do anything but destroy it.
I should’ve known better. I should’ve suspected no spawn of my mother would achieve anything close to happiness. We were destined to be in shambles. Fated to live a life of bitter disarray as we dragged our own hearts through ruin.
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t eat. The only thing that made the weight of it bearable was sleep, and even that wasn’t enough. But it was better.
So, I slept.
For two whole days, I opted for temporary death over living just to avoid the agony of my own making. It was all I could do. And it was where I would have stayed had myhead not been banging me out of the death, I was trying to suppress myself into.
I slowly blinked my eyes open and looked for the time on the cable box. It was 8:12, and judging by the soft sun coming through the windows, it was evening already. I had officially slept through a third day.
I stretched my body out and rubbed my eyes as I came to. The knocking banged again, and it took a moment for me to realize it was no longer in my head, but in my ears. I looked around in a confused daze as I sat up on the couch. I hadn’t ordered food. And Jake had a key. So, who could be knocking at my door?
The bangs sounded again, and after a brief thought of ignoring them altogether, I decided to get up. I walked to the bathroom, rinsed my mouth with Listerine, and patted my face dry as I listened to the knocking a fourth time.
I walked in what must have been slow motion as the bangs continued for a fifth and then a sixth time. I didn’t yell out. I didn’t announce my presence. I just swung open the door and felt my heart drop six stories when my eyes met E’s.
“What are you doing here?”
My face was expressionless, and my tone was flat. I had nothing left to give, and I didn’t care to try. I turned around and walked back to the living room, leaving the door open behind me.
“You don’t like hello’s, huh?” E closed the door behind him and followed my path. His tone was light but accusatory, like he was shielding his vulnerability with humor.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He lost some of his playfulness then. “I came to say happy birthday.”
I sat on the edge of the couch, crossing my arms across my chest. I had no right to be cold with him when it was I who’d disappeared, once again, but I was barely alive. I couldn’t have been warmer if I tried. And somehow, he understood. But he still wasn’t giving up.
“You could’ve called.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing,” the accusatory playfulness was back. “I went to call, but then I realized I don’t have your number.”
I chewed on my cheek.
“So, you decided to fly halfway across the country to say happy birthday because you don’t have my number?”
E shrugged and rocked on his heels. “Had nothing better to do.” He gave me that crooked grin of his, and I felt a tiny ember in my ashen heart ignite.
He stared at me for a moment, waiting for the flicker of life to hit my eyes, and when it did, with a quick retreat, his smile fell. The lightness was gone, and the weight of the room started to sink into me.
He took a step closer but stopped short before the next. His hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach for something, maybe for me, but he didn’t dare.
“You don’t look like yourself,” he said quietly. Cautiously.
“Maybe I’m not. Maybe I lost myself a long time ago.”
“Well… maybe you can find yourself again.”
I huffed, looking away as I stuffed my hands into the front pocket of my sweatshirt. “Not likely.”
He bit his cheek as his gaze dropped to my feet and back up again.
“I came to give you this.” He handed me a flat square wrapped in brown paper and twine. And just for a second, I was sixteen again.
