We've Lost Control

Minnesota, Missouri, and Kansas all flew by uneventfully. I cried a lot, drank a lot, and developed the habit of smoking cigarettes. I blamed my new addiction to nicotine on David Schmitt; he told me they would calm my nerves and relax me, and of course I listened to him. I always told myself I would never smoke, but since almost everyone in my immediate family smoked, it was almost inevitable.

August 5th was a driving day to get to Boise, Idaho. We had decided that I would go home on August 11 from the Denver airport. Since Anna was staying in Colorado, I would stay the night at her place so the boys of Breathe Carolina could get on with the tour and make it to Calgary in time. We had talked about me going until the end of Warped Tour in LA, but I didn’t have a passport to get into Canada. The idea of me flying into Seattle from Denver was also brought up and I was tempted to do so, but I knew the real world would be waiting for me after an absence of fourteen days.

I spent a lot of my time to myself, in my own head. I became sort of a recluse after my call with Nick and didn’t tell anyone about it. I imagined Nick had told John whom I hadn’t seen but was expecting a visit from soon.

I thought about what was going on at home in LA. I probably didn’t have a job anymore and Hanley, most likely, was freaking out over my absence. I thought about my family; they had no idea I wasn’t in California anymore. Who knows if they’d tried to contact me. I sure didn’t. I had never felt so terrible in my life. I was still reeling on the fact that I had been pregnant then had a miscarriage, add in the fact that I had to make the decision on if I wanted to stay married to a cheater.

It irked me that when Nick went off and had his fun in Braintree I was pregnant. What if I never had the miscarriage and I found out he cheated? What if I brought a baby into the world with a cheater for a father? When did my life get so dramatic?

I sighed contently as I relaxed into my lawn chair in front of Breathe Carolina’s trailer. I had my headphones in my ears, playing Horehound by The Dead Weather and it was the first time in such a very long time I felt almost all right. Closing my eyes behind my teal Wayfarers, I let Alison Mosshart’s growl in “Hang You From the Heavens” lull me into a half-conscious state. I listened to the heavy guitars, drums, and lyrics.

“I never know what I’m gonna do. I say I’m leaving, but it ain’t true. I got a lot I could do to you, nothing you can do to stop it. I wanna grab you by the hair and hang you up from the heavens.”

Every lyric spoke to me as they blasted into my ears. In a way they related to how I was feeling about Nick.

“Bone House” was playing when I felt someone kick my foot gently. Emotionless, I opened my eyes and paused my music. Needless to say, I wasn’t happy at the two boys from The Maine for interrupting my quiet time.

“Can I help you?” I asked as I took the headphones out of my ears and wrapped them around my iPod.

“How are you?” Garrett asked. The way it came out of his mouth made it seem like I would break at any minute.

“Does it really matter? I feel like shit, but I have felt like shit for the past month.” I don’t know why I decided to chew them out, but I guessed it was because I had been in an all right mood before they took me out of my calm state.

“What were you listening to? It was pretty loud.” John asked. I think he knew not to bullshit around me and not act sympathetic.

“The Dead Weather.” I answered. His eyebrows raised up above his Ray Bans causing me to scoff, “You are aware I’m not a huge fan of the pop-punk shit your band and my husband’s band play right? I would much rather listen to The White Stripes or The Decemberists or something like that.” Wow, I was being snappy.

“Then how do you explain Breathe Carolina?” Garrett asked and I smirked.

“Moment of weakness.” I said, “They’re my guilty pleasure, but it’s all right because I know they’re terrible.”

They both snorted, “Nice thing to say about your best friend’s band.” Garrett said and I rolled my eyes.

“All right, get on with the talk about Nick. I know he called you.” I was getting tired of them holding off on asking.

They shared a glance then looked back at me, “We just wanted to see how you were doing. He said you were pretty hysterical the other night.”

I shrugged, suddenly feeling the urge for a cigarette, “I had just made out with Jack Barakat, I was pretty drunk and pretty angry. So yeah, I was hysterical.”

“Sawyer, you gotta know that it had nothing to do with you in why he chose to do what he did. He’s a guy and guys are stupid.” John said, “And that coming from a guy, you gotta know is the truth.” I smirked in spite of myself. “We’re not saying to forgive him because what he did was pretty terrible, but we’re not necessarily saying to not forgive him.” John said, causing me to frown, “He’s one of our pals but cheating is a big no-no.”

“But we’re not trying to influence you in any way on if you should forgive him and go on with your life.” Garrett added.

“Then what the hell are you guys trying to do?!” I exclaimed in frustration. I definitely needed a cigarette.

They both frowned, “We’re not sure. We just saw you sitting over here and decided to say “hey”” John said.

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. I hadn’t laughed in a while and that was weird for me; I loved to laugh. This was why I always chose comedies over horrors. “Sorry, but I thought you guys were going to lecture me.” I said once I regained my composure.

They chuckled, “Nah, we know better than that.” Garrett said which made me smile.

“Well, thanks for the concern, but I think I’m going to go take a nap; I haven’t been getting much sleep.” They didn’t give me sympathetic looks as I got up from my chair.

“Okay, well, sweet dreams.” John said before the two of them walked off.

The back lounge couch was calling me as well as a cigarette and my iPod.
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There wasn’t any drinking on the bus that night, surprisingly. The bus was pretty empty for most of the night since bus call was kind of late. Because of this, everyone decided they wanted to hang out with other people. I, on the other hand, hung out with the air conditioner, listening to The Kills’ discography.

I was left with a pack of menthols and my thoughts. The back lounge’s window was open slightly so the smoke could filter out into the warm night sky. I inhaled on the filter, held it in my lungs for a few seconds, then let it out slowly through my mouth. My chest hurt from the smoke, or was it from a broken heart? Either way, I couldn’t care anymore; the feeling was so familiar that I didn’t notice it as much as I had before.

Leaning my head against the wall underneath the window, I closed my eyes then brought the cigarette to my lips again. I felt like giving up everything, I truly did. I felt worthless, used, and unloved. Feeling unloved after feeling on top of the world for a while isn’t the best feeling in the world. I felt as if I were too young to be feeling such an immense pain of heartache. I lost a child I didn’t even know about and a husband all in one summer.

I never planned on falling in love at such an early age, let alone getting married. I’d dated when I moved out to Los Angeles, but I never got serious with anyone. Getting so serious with Nick so very quickly was obviously the wrong thing to do. I could have told you that that night in Las Vegas when an Elvis impersonator announced us Man and Wife, but it just felt right. It felt right waking up in his arms every morning and sharing small kisses when no one was looking. It just felt right to call him my husband even though I was sadly mistaken of the good guy he was.

Sighing, I slipped my finger through the ring hanging from the chain around my neck and brought it to my line of vision. The ring was supposed to represent our love, but I’m not too sure about it anymore. He was so excited to take me to that jewelry store on my birthday and buy me a ring even if he had to make payments on it for years to come. I wasn’t sure if he was stringing me along or if he really meant every loving word he ever told me. It had to mean something if he asked me to marry him. Why would he break my trust if he loved me?