I'd Kiss You Goodbye If I Thought It Would Make You Stay

“Let’s take some time to talk this over. You’re out of line, and rarely sober. We can’t depend on your excuses, ‘cause in the end, it’s fucking useless.” – Blink-182

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I wander into the kitchen at around three in the afternoon. William’s sitting at the table, as if he’s been waiting for me to wake up all day, which I wouldn’t doubt. I sit across from him, and he hands me a cup of coffee after warming it up in the microwave.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me how bad it was,” William frowns.

I drink some coffee, rubbing my tired face with one hand.

“Bill. It’s not a big deal,”’ I say, already knowing what he’s talking about, even though I can’t remember the greater part of last night, no matter how hard I try.

Needless to say, he’s not buying it.

“No, Rae, it is a big deal. You never said you have a drinking problem.”

“That’s because I don’t have a drinking problem,” I state flatly, shaking my head at him. He frowns at me once again, but I don’t know why, all I know is that I don’t have a problem, even if my own cousin doesn’t believe me.

“Then what kind of problem do you have?” he challenges, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“I…” I begin quietly, looking at my hands. “I don’t know. I’m just…tired,” I say lamely, feeling my eyes glaze over with tears I don’t want him to see. I rub my wrist nervously.

“You’re not fucking tired, Rae. You’re depressed and you’re practically borderline alcoholic!” I wipe my eyes discreetly; Suzie’s probably been talking to him about my drinking habits. “And you’re in denial, too! How are you going to get better if you don’t know your own problems?” he demands loudly in frustration. I try to hold in my tears, but a sob escapes me and the tears just won’t stay inside anymore. “Shit, Rae. I’m sorry,” he says, now sounding alarmed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

He comes to hug me as I continue to cry.

“Do you want to talk?” he asks, pulling away after a little while.

“Everything’s just so hard, Bill. I have interviews, tour, Suzie always wants to practice…and…I can’t…” I pause. “I can’t get over him,” I admit softly, looking away.

It’s so hard to admit. It’s been six months, and I still cry over him, I still think about him, and I’m still trying to figure out why he left me, and none of this is getting me anywhere.

This can’t be normal.

“He called this morning,” he informs me, after a brief silence.

“Why?” I ask blankly, wiping my eyes with my sleeves.

“He said he tried to talk to you last night, but you were drunk, so...”

“Great…” I moan, covering my face with my hands, ashamed. “Now he thinks I’m an idiot and an alcoholic.”

“He doesn’t think that,” he reassures me. “He just called to see how you were.”

“Did he tell you what I said?” I ask.

“No. Why? What did you say?”

“I don’t remember,” I admit, mumbling and feeling my cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“He just said you quoted a song,” he shrugs, looking a little confused. He hesitates before continuing. “Rae…don’t you think it’s time…you talk to him? Just put everything out there? See where you two stand?” he suggests. “It’s been half a year.”

“I know how long it’s been, Bill. Don’t you know that’s how long I spent overanalyzing everything? How I tried to figure out what was wrong with me that could possibly be the real reason he left? I just don’t get it, Bill,” I tell him, and I know I’m rambling, but I haven’t talked to anyone besides Suzie about this, so I need someone to listen. He bites his lip. “And I know he’s your friend, and I’m not asking you to choose between us, but he broke my heart, Bill. And tour or no tour, I don’t know when or if I can forgive him.”

“I’m not asking you to forgive him,” he says. “I’m just asking you to hear him out.”

I hate to admit it, but Bill is right, as always.