Battling the Loss You Live For.

It was getting colder in Jersey.
Frost has started to lace the pavements, meaning I had to be much more careful when driving or walking out now. I never walked outside, though.
Mikey had got me a job at Eyeball, answering the phones. That way, whenever he worked, he would come and pick me up and we’d go together. I liked it; it meant that we had the same shifts and breaks.
Even though I was due in three months, they still took me on temporarily, and we agreed that I would have two months off, starting one week before my due date.
I loved working again.

Frank was getting off college at Christmas time, starting from the 20th, which was a Wednesday, so he only had to go into college for his Monday lecture.
Pencey Prep had their first gig last week, too, at the Loop Lounge. He was so nervous; he drank three beers to rid his nerves, and smoked about six fags before he went on stage.
I noticed that he didn’t get any better. He still looked grey, still had that hollowness about him. It was crushing.

“You alright?”
I looked up from the desk, to Mikey looking down at me worriedly.
“Uh… yeah, why, what’s up?” I said; dropping the pencil I was doodling with.
“You look a little down. Wanna talk about it?” he said, passing me my coat. I looked up at the clock, realising we were on a break.
“I dunno… I can’t really explain it,” I replied, slipping on my black coat and buttoning it up. I followed him out, and we walked down the street to the Star Bucks there. Whenever we were out, he always wrapped his arm around my waist. He said he had to; it was a rough area and not exactly a place for a pregnant chick.
Mikey and I got along so well, it was insane. We were like brother and sister, and I loved that. I've always wanted an older brother, and since I’ve met him he’s kind of filled that void.
“So, what’s going on? You can tell Uncle Mikes,” he said, grinning as we walked down the cold and windy street.
“It’s just… I’ve got this horrible feeling and I don’t really know what it is. And recently, I’ve noticed how… ill Frank looks,” I said, sighing softly.
“Ill? He doesn’t look ill…” he said, confused.
“Yeah, he does. His complexion is all grey, he’s smoking way more cigarettes than usual, and his eyes don’t have that depth anymore…” I said, looking up at Mikey. He still looked slightly confused.
“But… why?”
“Because of everything I’ve put him through! It must be that, when I first met him, he was full of life, and now he’s just a shell of what he was.”
“Sazzy, Jesus Christ… Frank was right…” he mumbled to himself, and I was surprised.
“What do you mean, Frank was right?”
He shook his head, pushing open the door to Star Bucks, leading me to a table.
“Wait here… Macchiato, right?” he asked.
“Mikey, don’t be a prick, tell me what-” he shook his head again, and left for the coffee bar. I grumbled, slumping into the armchair. What an arsehole.
He was back five minutes later, with two steaming mugs in his hand.
“I got you a decaf one,” he said, smiling as he set it down on the table and sat next to me.
“You better tell me what he said.”
“What do you take me for, someone who breaks a friend’s trust?” he said, in mock shock.
“Yes?”
“Okay, fine. But you better not tell him I told you,” he said, giggling a little. I nodded, sipping on my drink.
“He said that you always blame yourself on what’s happened between you, and you blame yourself for everything that’s happened to him,” he confessed, his thin hands wrapped around his mug, “basically, you blame yourself for everything.”
I didn’t know exactly what to make of that.
“So he thinks I’m some sort of… sap?”
“No, that’s not what he meant-”
“Then what did he mean?” I mumbled harshly, slightly pissed. If he thought I was a push-over or something, why was he with me?
“This is why he didn’t want you to know! Because you’ll flip out,” he said, a hand on my shoulder, “you need to chill out a little.”
“Well your boyfriend doesn’t think you’re a sap!”
“I don’t have a boyfriend! I have a girlfriend!” he groaned, embarrassed, “why does everyone think I’m gay? I don’t get it…” he mumbled to himself, sipping his coffee.
“What did he mean, then?” I asked, again.
“Just that you’re a little hard on yourself, you never really give yourself a break. Like, he used the working thing as an example. He thinks that you should be chilling out at home, and relaxing. You’re pregnant, and you’re stressed out already without the added stress of working,” he explained after a mouthful of coffee.
Again, I didn’t know what to make of any of that.
“You know deep down, that he’s right, don’t you?”
“None of that explains why he’s thinner and stressed out and-”
“College? The band?” he suggested.
“No, it can’t be… he loves what he does with the band,” I said, dismissing it.
“That doesn’t mean it can’t be stressful. Listen, Sazzy, if it’s been bothering you like this, I think you should just talk to him. He’s probably noticed that you’re worried.”
“But what-”
“No. Listen to Uncle Mikey.”