On The Brightside

I showed up at Dr. Fenlon’s office drunk off my ass the next day. It was a Thursday, and I’d reached my limit. I needed help, obviously, but I was too afraid to ask for it, so I would just have to force it upon myself. I never said I was a strong person. If I did, I was lying.

So I stumbled into her office, and she was with another client. She stood immediately, and I giggled a little at the squeaking noise the door made. She asked her client if they would excuse us, and I was too trashed to remember if it was a boy or girl. But they left, and Doc took me by the arm and sat me on the couch. She asked me what had happened, and I hiccupped, before I burst into tears. I curled myself into a ball and buried my face in my knees, and wept.

She took me home after talking to me for hours, and I made her promise not to tell. I told her that I would be okay, I just had a really bad night, and that I needed one more chance. She made it clear to me that if I fucked up one more time, I was being sent to rehab, whether I liked it or not. That was something I couldn’t take right now, so I nodded somberly and stumbled out of her car. I couldn’t walk straight, even after not having a drink for over three hours, and my head still spun when I reached the door.

My body was warm, and I soon forgot all about the looming threat of rehab when I staggered through the door and was greeted by Nate and Chris sitting on the couch, watching some stupid show.

“Loreli? Where were you?” Nate asked, looking at me curiously. I leaned on the small table next to the door that held a flower vase and a set of keys, smiling to myself as I stopped my world from lurching. I giggled quietly without an answer, and started toward the stairs. It felt like someone had squished my eyeballs into a weird shape, so that everything I looked at was warped and unreal.

My foot caught on something (probably my other foot) and I tipped forward in slow motion. I heard myself squeak and Nate jumped up from the couch as soon as I hit the floor. I kind of caught myself, landing on my hands and knees, but it was hard to stand back up, so I took my time.

“Loreli, are you drunk?” Nate’s voice was annoying me, but I felt an overwhelming feeling of love for him. He was there for me, and he was the closest thing I had to family, even if our blood wasn’t shared. He helped me off the floor, and I threw my arms around him and leaned into his body. My face was pressed into his shirt, and I laughed, pulling him closer to me.

“Nathan, I love you sooo mush…” I slurred out, leaning away from him to look into his whirling face. He rolled his eyes at me, and I spotted Chris standing a safe distance away, watching with concerned eyes. He looked like a lost little boy, and I wanted to help him find his way.

“Chris!” I smiled, stumbling to the side a little. Nate secured me, but I wanted to hug Chris now.

I pulled out of Nate’s grip, and fell toward Chris, who caught me before I hit the ground. I started to cry again, and he looked like he was panicking a little.

“C-Chris, I’m so s-s-sorry,” I wailed, clutching the front of his shirt and burying my face in the soft fabric. Even as intoxicated as I was, I could smell him and know it was Chris.

His arms wound around my back and held me to him, and I cried harder, and held on tighter.

How did I let this happen? I couldn’t answer that, and I was about to ask the others, when I was lifted from the floor and cradled against Chris. He was carrying me upstairs, probably to my room, where he would walk out on me again, like he had the night before.

When we reached my door, Chris pushed it open and set me down, making sure I was steady. I held his arm when he tried to leave, and when he turned to me, I clumsily pushed myself into his embrace. He accepted me, shutting the door behind him, and brushed the tears from my face.

“Why can’t I just be happy, Chris?” I cried, staring at him and waiting for an answer.

“Because, you won’t allow it,” he said quietly, brushing my bangs from my eyes.

“I need you,” my voice sounded so pathetic, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.

Chris sighed, and led me over to the bed. He made me sit down on the edge, and my heart started to race with the implications. He stared at my face for a long while, before leaning down and kissing my forehead.

When he headed for the door again, leaving me once more, alone to face my problems, my crying escalated to sobbing, and I felt so helpless, more than I’ve ever known. Just like the night before, he shut the door behind him without a second glance, and I fell to the floor and cried.

I cried for my parents. I cried for Chris. I cried for myself. I just wanted things to work out, you know, like they do in all the books you read and all the movies you watch.

For once in my life, I wanted to be the princess. I wanted someone to save me, instead of always having to save myself because that just wasn‘t working out.

Obviously the path I was one wasn’t leading to my happily ever after, and so something would have to change.

But for the moment, I was way to drunk to know what that something was.