Status: Reinventing Itself.
Take Me Dancing.
you people, you aren't my friends.
I didn’t leave my house for days. Maybe it was a week, the memories are a little foggy now, but I can remember my lack of human interaction as I sat in my apartment, trying to convince myself that leaving would be too hard, that everywhere I went would hold a memory of her too painful for me to bear.
But the memories were worse inside my own living space.
She was everywhere. She was in the kitchen, sitting on my counter eating my ingredients before I had even finished making our dinner. She was in the living room, flipping through the channels no matter how many times I asked her to put on Criminal Minds. She was in my bathroom, leaving me weird messages written in the condensation that had formed after my shower. But mostly she was in my bedroom. She was on my bed- “I told you to get the tempurpedic mattress Gary!”- Or riffling through my dresser drawers- “so many dark colors, you'd think every day you attended a funeral.” She was even on my floor, the aftermath of a long night of tossing and turning next to me until she finally fell out of bed. I would laugh at her and she would always say, “Well the floor is more comfortable than sleeping next to your bony butt anyways.”
It made me sick to think about. Physically sick sometimes, to the point where I would find myself sitting on my bathroom floor, my head hanging over the toilet as whatever contents in my stomach were pouring out of me, depending on whether or not I had eaten that day. Was it sad that even the act of vomiting brought up memories of her? Memories of parties and holding her hair back while rubbing soothing circles into her tan skin. “I’ll never drink again,” she would always say. I would just shake my head and laugh, telling her to bet on it. She never did.
“Garrett?”
From my bedroom I could hear her knocking on my apartment door in rapid succession, one after the other after the other.
“Garrett please open the door…”
She knew I wouldn’t answer, she knew it yesterday and the day before and the day before, but she kept coming. It made me angry mostly; I just wanted everyone to leave me alone with my thoughts, especially her. She was the last person I wanted to be at my door, yet she kept coming. Couldn’t she tell I didn’t want her help? I didn’t want anyone’s help. The only person I wanted to open my door for was the one person who would never knock on my door again.
Her knocking finally died out after a while and if I had been sitting in the kitchen or on the living room couch I would have been able to hear her defeated sigh through the wooden barrier. I would have been able to hear her tell me she loves me and that she’ll be there for me whenever I'm ready to talk. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t love her back; I wanted to tell her that I hadn’t loved her for a long time and that I couldn’t stand the thought of even looking at her anymore. But that would have required me to either get out of bed and walk to the door or yell it loud enough for her to hear, but I lacked the energy for both. Where had my energy gone? It seemed to have died along with Keegan.
I died along with her.
But the memories were worse inside my own living space.
She was everywhere. She was in the kitchen, sitting on my counter eating my ingredients before I had even finished making our dinner. She was in the living room, flipping through the channels no matter how many times I asked her to put on Criminal Minds. She was in my bathroom, leaving me weird messages written in the condensation that had formed after my shower. But mostly she was in my bedroom. She was on my bed- “I told you to get the tempurpedic mattress Gary!”- Or riffling through my dresser drawers- “so many dark colors, you'd think every day you attended a funeral.” She was even on my floor, the aftermath of a long night of tossing and turning next to me until she finally fell out of bed. I would laugh at her and she would always say, “Well the floor is more comfortable than sleeping next to your bony butt anyways.”
It made me sick to think about. Physically sick sometimes, to the point where I would find myself sitting on my bathroom floor, my head hanging over the toilet as whatever contents in my stomach were pouring out of me, depending on whether or not I had eaten that day. Was it sad that even the act of vomiting brought up memories of her? Memories of parties and holding her hair back while rubbing soothing circles into her tan skin. “I’ll never drink again,” she would always say. I would just shake my head and laugh, telling her to bet on it. She never did.
“Garrett?”
From my bedroom I could hear her knocking on my apartment door in rapid succession, one after the other after the other.
“Garrett please open the door…”
She knew I wouldn’t answer, she knew it yesterday and the day before and the day before, but she kept coming. It made me angry mostly; I just wanted everyone to leave me alone with my thoughts, especially her. She was the last person I wanted to be at my door, yet she kept coming. Couldn’t she tell I didn’t want her help? I didn’t want anyone’s help. The only person I wanted to open my door for was the one person who would never knock on my door again.
Her knocking finally died out after a while and if I had been sitting in the kitchen or on the living room couch I would have been able to hear her defeated sigh through the wooden barrier. I would have been able to hear her tell me she loves me and that she’ll be there for me whenever I'm ready to talk. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t love her back; I wanted to tell her that I hadn’t loved her for a long time and that I couldn’t stand the thought of even looking at her anymore. But that would have required me to either get out of bed and walk to the door or yell it loud enough for her to hear, but I lacked the energy for both. Where had my energy gone? It seemed to have died along with Keegan.
I died along with her.
♠ ♠ ♠
This is not really going to be a happy story. I feel like being cynical for once. Poor Garrett :( but we are merely in the beginning stages! Much more to come.Please comment and subscribe! Sorry for mistakes.