What We Used To Know

The next morning Oliver had to leave at promptly 4 AM in order to be at the airport in time. His headache hadn’t given way since the day before, plaguing him all night as he tried to sleep, knowing everything was wrong. But it wasn’t only the headache keeping him awake. It was the fact that his girlfriend was sleeping on the couch in the living room because she couldn’t stand to be near him when he

A) Hadn’t called her since the first day of tour

B) Refused to say anything once in the door and collapsed on the bed

C) Didn’t apologize for any of his actions

And D) Was clearly affected by alcohol to the point where it scared Addie.

Everything was so, so wrong.

And it was all his fault.

Oliver was only reminded of this when he was walking out of the door with the same dirty duffel bag he had come home with last night, casting his gaze over to see Addie on the couch, probably pretending to be asleep.

And of course she was only pretending to be asleep. Addie didn’t want to have to look at him leaving her, again. She didn’t want to be reminded that he probably wouldn’t call again, if this tour was going to be anything like the last one he had just come off of.

As he closed the door behind him and locked it, they were both thinking the exact same thing.

I wish I would have said goodbye.

***

They had one week apart from each other to think about things. Unfortunately, they were both thinking about the same things.

Oliver was regretting trying to change for Addie, trying to be the stable one in the relationship who would always be there to calm her down and convince her that yes, they were meant to be together. He was scared now because he wasn’t able to do that anymore. It was obvious. He was too scared of being the strong one. Oliver needed his alcohol now to be strong, and Addie couldn’t know that. He regretted trying to change, because he was only moving in reverse now. How would he be able to tell Addie that he still loved her, and wanted to be with her, when he couldn’t even say it to himself? He drank too much to forget that he loved her these days.

This thought of them not being meant to be together, well, it wasn’t a thought anymore. It was a belief.

Addie couldn’t go a single day during the week Oliver was gone without thinking about whether it was even worth it to be here now. Oliver would be gone more often than not in the coming months, and when he was gone, he wouldn’t even call. He was really, in all senses of the word, gone. She wanted someone there to keep her company and be her support system, just like he had been for a few months there. But nothing lasts forever. And Addie hated to face that fact more than anything.

If they never were meant to be together, at least they were able to squeeze in their time for almost a year.

Oliver was coming home from Japan in just hours, making Addie’s heart race for multiple reasons. She was worried he would come home the same way he did just a week ago, or even worse. Her heart raced to see the only man she loved, yet at the same time she was dreading his arrival. What if things did go the same way? That would surely spell out their expiration date. She just wanted Oliver to come home and be normal again, like he had been just the day before he left for the European tour. Things had been so good before then.

And Oliver’s heart was racing because it was more than a challenge to walk in a straight line up the stairs, and to the apartment door. His mind was thinking just clearly enough to tell him that this was a bad idea, to come home the way he was right now. But he had to see Addie. He wanted to see her after being gone, and being horrible to her. All he wanted was to fix everything, but that wasn’t going to happen with his current state of inebriation.

Words like “alcoholism” and “dependence” were floating around in his mind as he clumsily tried to unlock the door, reminding him that if he entered the apartment right now, nothing would get fixed. Addie would see what was going on with him, he would ignore it, and what happened a week ago would just repeat itself. At least this time he wasn’t going to be leaving in the morning again.

This time he had three weeks to surrender his current attitude and beg for forgiveness like he never had before. This was the one girl he had changed for, the one girl who he told himself he would be best for. And right now, he was the worst person in the world for her.

But he was going to change that, or try his damndest to do so.

Addie was sitting on the island counter, listening to the lock in the door click around as Oliver jostled the key on the other side. She was waiting, thankful for him to be home for the next few weeks. At this point, all she wanted was him. She wasn’t even so sure that she would care if he came home the same way he did last time; she could make it work. Addie missed him, and just prayed that she would be with him longer.

The scariest part of falling in love was falling out.

Oliver walked through the door, that same duffel bag hanging from his slim frame, just like it had been last time. Addie was looking at him, noticing the way his eyes were red, but not the way they would be if he was crying. He hadn’t shaved, his hair looked worse than it did when he woke up, and she just knew. Addie just knew that he was drunk. And this was the first time she had ever seen it.

He merely looked back at her, trying to judge what she was thinking. But it was too hard when he was this tired, and not thinking clearly at all. It was completely silent between them as he let the bag fall from his shoulder to the ground, the only noise in the apartment being the crash of it against the floor. Addie stared at it, her eyes flickering up to meet Oliver’s.

She hopped off the island and walked towards him, not caring how bad he smelled, or how far she just wanted to be away from him right now. The levels of hurt were boiling up inside of her as she inched closer to him, pushing every thought of how mad she was at him for coming home like this. All she did was wrap her arms around him, her face buried in his chest.

Addie just wanted things to be normal, and showing how infuriated she was wasn’t going to help anything.

His arms stiffly came around her, wondering why she wasn’t crying or yelling, or just looking at him with those eyes full of hurt, like she should have been. Oliver felt like he deserved those things, because he knew he did. He was full of questions as to why she only embraced him, not bothering to say a word - not bothering to say the lecture that he deserved.

And they stood there, both of them knowing that they weren’t doing what they should be. Addie should be mad, telling Oliver how disappointed she was that he failed to call, yet again. And Oliver should have been begging and crying himself, admitting that he’d made such a mistake and promise never to do it again. But Addie wouldn’t have been able to vocalize how furious she was, and Oliver’s promise wouldn’t have held up anyways.

So they held each other in the silence, regaining the sight they had lost of how much they loved each other. It took them almost a year to admit they loved each other, three weeks to start forgetting those feelings, and less than five minutes for all of it to come rushing back.

Addie inhaled Oliver’s scent, it was still him, now it was just muddled with the overwhelming smell of liquor. She wanted to badly just to say something, anything, to beg him and ask him why he was doing this to himself; why he was doing this to them. She loved him too much to do anything though, knowing that Oliver was stubborn - and capable - enough to do this on his own, much like every other thing he tried to tackle by himself.

“You’re so drunk,” Addie whispered into his chest, “but I’ve missed you so much.”

And because of that, she let everything slide. She ignored every obvious problem that should have been talked out for the chance of being with Oliver like how they used to be. Addie would ignore it all if it meant that they could just start up again from where they had left off before the European tour, before Oliver let this secret seep into his life. He never planned for it to be this way. But then again, did he really think that he could keep it a secret forever?

Oliver’s hands covered Addie’s, the calluses acquired over the weeks scratching her hands. But they felt soft this time. They felt like they were meant to be that way. They could be rough as sandpaper, and they would always feel right to Addie. His hands were too soft this night though.

They were backtracking into their bedroom, still holding hands and nearly embraced. Oliver was leading Addie towards the bed, slowly leaning her down onto the soft comforter he missed so much. She closed her eyes as she laid down, feeling like she could finally rest for the first time in a month. Exhaustion was getting the best of her now.

“I’m tired,” she murmured as Oliver leaned down on top of her now, resting his head on next to hers. Her eyes were barely open, and he could see red veins contrasting the pure white of her eyes. She looked miserable.

Hell, Oliver was tired too.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing a part of her exposed collarbone. He was so glad to be with her again. She seemed to be the only one who could keep him clean and away from destructing himself yet again. Addie was the one who made him ashamed of what he did to forget how much he missed her. She was the one who made him realize how horrible he was, but it only worked when he was with her.

He looked at her, watching her eyes lazily look at him as she struggled to keep them open. The bed was just too soft, and things were just too right now that Oliver was home, and they could push everything into oblivion. He just wanted Addie to be happy. He just wanted to be happy. Somehow, he couldn’t be happy and have a life as a musician at the same time, as the recent tours had proved.

Their lips met though, for the first time in what could have been forever. But it was familiar of course, just like how they could never really forget each other. They would always know the other inside and out, no matter how long they had been away. The kiss showed them yet again that they could never fall out of love. They would always, always have some part of the other within them. No matter if they weren’t meant to be together; if their time would someday run out, they would always be with each other in some way.

But her clothes were on the floor now, and his were soon to join. It didn’t matter how tired she was, or how drunk he was, or that his hands were exceptionally soft and in the right places tonight. They were together, and they still loved each other, no matter how much their heads had convinced them that they weren’t meant for each other.

They were as much for each other as Oliver was to surprising people, or Addie was to alphabetizing CDs.