You're Gone

When Dylan and I finally climbed back into the car, Amanda was noticeably absent. I was under the impression she was driving along with us to whatever lunch she had planned for us and was surprised when she wasn't there.

"Where's Amanda?" I asked Dylan as she started to car.

"Said she'll meet us there," she shrugged, turning around and backing out of the spot.

"Oh okay," I nodded, glancing out the window mindlessly.

"So I uh...saw yeh sayin' goodbye ta Oli," Dylan said carefully when we were about halfway to the restaurant. She didn't look at me when she spoke and I knew it was because she was nervous about hearing what I had to say. I think she was sick of cleaning up my messes, but I knew she would never admit it. That was just the kind of person Dylan was.

"Yeah," I nodded, my eyes still fixed out the window. "We said goodbye for uh, good I guess..."

Unceremoniously, Dylan slammed her foot against the brake pedal, bringing up to an abrupt and rather unexpected stop.

"Jesus Dyl, yeh practically gave me whiplash!" I yelled, rubbing the back of my neck as I glanced over at her. She was already staring at me, a scowl on her face.

"Are yeh fuckin' jokin' wiff me, Tristan?" She asked me flatly.

"About wha'?"

"About Oli! Yeh've got ta be fuckin' wiff me!"

"I'm not...? Why are yeh even angry?"

"Because yeh're so fuckin' daft sometimes!" She yelled. The car behind her beeped and she resumed driving. She shook her head as she maneuvered her way around the streets while I stayed silent. "I mean, fuck Tristan! Yeh love 'im! And 'e loves yeh! Whether yeh believe it or not, 'e does. And yeh're jus' gonna give up, are yeh?" She sighed, shaking her head again. "I dunno, all I know is tha' was Lee, I'd fight for 'im till the fuckin' end."

"Well not everyone's relationship is as perfect as yers, yeah? Especially not mine and Oliver's," I crossed my arms over my chest, upset she had brought her own perfect relationship into the picture. "'s not tha' fuckin' easy, okay?"

"I know 's not easy," she sighed. "But nofhin's easy, 'specially love. I jus' want yeh ta be 'appeh Tristan, I've said it a million times. And I know 'e makes yeh 'appeh. And I know yeh wan' ta be wiff 'im."

"Jus' because I want somefhin' doesn't mean I'm gonna get it," I replied softly, my eyes cast down to my hands in my lap.

"Whatever Tristan," she shook her head, pushing her lips together in a tight line. Her phone began to ring before I could even defend myself. She answered it quickly, keeping her other hand firmly on the wheel. "What's up?" She asked shortly. "Wait, why? But yeh said..." She was listening intently now, her brows furrowed. "No, no, don't worreh 'bout it. I'll come over later then, yeah? Alrigh', bye."

"Who was tha'?" I asked her quietly, though I wasn't sure if she was even going to answer me. I guess I didn't really even expect her too, especially after she had blown up at me like she just had. So imagine my surprise when she shot a quick glance over at me and gave me a one word answer.

"Amanda."

She drove us straight home after that, and though at first I was confused as to why she hadn't driven to the restaurant we were supposed to be meeting Amanda at, I quickly pieced together that she had called to cancel. And then when she left about an hour after we got back to our flat, I knew she had gone off to see Amanda.

Maybe Dylan was right. Maybe I should have fought harder for Oliver. But maybe he should have fought harder for me too. Maybe if I felt at all wanted by him I would have put more of an effort into getting him back. And maybe if Amanda wasn't so sweet. And if his life didn't seem so put together. And if I hadn't felt like I had ruined it all for him.

But those were a lot of ifs. And I knew I was just doing this all to avoid getting my heart shattered again. I knew I couldn't deal with losing Oliver again, not after everything that had happened. It was all too much, too overwhelming.

So yeah, maybe Dylan was right- but she didn't know what a broken heart felt like. She had an unfair advantage. I settled for making myself pancakes to keep my mind off of everything. Pancakes were a comfort food for me. And I certainly needed to comfort now, more than ever. I was just finishing up the batter when a loud knocking came from the front door. At first I was slightly frightened by the incessant knocking before I remembered Dylan's terrible habit of leaving her keys at home. And because Oliver and Amanda's flat was just a few blocks away and it wasn't raining, I knew she had walked. I was hopeful that her coming back so soon meant that she was coming home to apologize and we could talk everything out like we usually did. I hoped that it meant things were going to be okay again because I really did hate the fact she was so upset with me.

Every single thought floating through my brain stopped the very moment I opened the door. The blood drained quickly from my face and I suddenly felt light headed. My whole body tensed up. My mouth went dry. My breath hitched in my throat.

"Hi."

What the fuck was he doing here.

That was the only thought that was passing through my head. I couldn't compute anything else. All I wondered was why he was here and not on a plane to America. Why he was here and not back at his flat. Why he was here and why he was saying "hi."

"I-I-I, uh, I-"

"I missed my flight," he said.

Everything around me was hazy.

"I came back ta see yeh," he said.

Tunnel vision at its very best.

"Can I come in?" He asked.

I stepped aside and let him in without really even thinking about it. My body was working on auto pilot.

"Wha' tha fuck 're yeh doin' 'ere?" I finally spit out as I shut the door.

He gave me a sort of half smile and pushed his hands into his back pockets. I walked a bit closer to him, almost as if to make sure he was really there and I wasn't imagining this all.

"I told yeh," he shrugged. "I missed my flight."

"But yeh were wiff ofher people," I rambled, thinking out loud. "'ow could yeh be tha only one ta miss yer flight?"

"No one else 'ad somefhin' this important ta say."

"Huh?"

"Remember when I came ova tha ofher day an' we jus' took a nap on yer bed while yeh were in tha' towel?" He asked, swallowing loudly. I nodded. "An' then we 'ad sex an' so I slept 'ere again?" He asked. I nodded. "I've 'ad night terrors almost every single nigh' after tha babeh died, after yeh left. An' if I wasn't 'avin' night terrors I was 'avin realleh fucked up dreams, like a step below tha night terrors. An' those two times I slept wiff yeh lying next ta me, I didn't 'ave a single bad fhing 'appen ta me while I was sleepin'; was like they didn't even exist."

"Oli I don't understand..." I shook my head. I could feel the tears already. I swear I was getting worse and worse at this whole crying thing as time went on. It should have been the other way around, I should be getting used to it.

"I slept soundly and it was only cause yeh were sleepin' next ta me, Tris. I don't care 'ow fuckin' cheesy tha' sounds, 's tha fuckin' trufh."

"So what're yeh tryin' ta say?" I bit my lip to fight the tears off. I could tell he was growing frustrated, angry even.

"'s yeh Tris! 's always been yeh!" He shouted, throwing his hands to the top of his head as he spun around, taking a few steps in the opposite direction. "I 'ave ta 'ave yeh, Tris. Yeh don't understand. 's like I can't even be around yeh wifhout fhinkin' of a million different memories. I still remember everyfhin' so fuckin' vividly an' it scares tha shit outta meh," he took a deep steadying breath and turned back around to look at me. His expression was soft now, no longer harsh or full of hurt. "Fuck wha' we're supposed ta do," he said softly. "Fuck wha's easy, an' fuck wha' everyone else fhinks." He was in front of my now, his rough hands cupping my face, forcing me to look him in the eye. "I'm not a liar, Tris," he whispered. "I meant it when I said nofhin' would change tha fact tha' I love yeh. Remember when I said tha'? I fuckin' meant it, okay?

"Yeh love meh?" I asked, my voice completely quivering.

"Of course I love yeh! I've always loved yeh an' I'm always gonna love yeh," he breathed out desperately, like he was afraid I wasn't going to believe him.

"But...but wha' about Amanda?"

"I broke up wiff 'er at tha airport, righ' after yeh left," he smiled. "I didn't want there ta be anofher excuse as ta why I couldn't be wiff yeh anymore."

It all made sense now; why she had called, why she had cancelled, why Dylan was over there now.

"Yeh wanna be wiff me?" I sniffled, an uncontrollable smile spreading its way across my lips.

"Of course," he grinned. "I love yeh, Tris."

I couldn't tell you that all of the pain I had carried with me for the last two years immediately vanished upon hearing the words I had been longing to hear for equally as long, but everything did feel a bit lighter. Pain like that, it doesn't go away within a few seconds or just by hearing a few simple words, pain like that took time. But now my pain was no longer open ended. I had all the answers now and all I needed to do was sort through it all, which was easier said than done, of course. But now I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. Now I could breathe without feeling the weight of the world caving in on my chest. Now I could smile and really mean it.

"Are yeh gonna say somefhin'?" Oliver asked, his voice laced with worry. He dipped his head down a bit to look me in the eye, his hands still cupped around my face. My mouth twitched into a half smile as I lifted my own hands up and placed them over his colorful hands.

"I love yeh, Oliver," I sighed, the words falling so easily from my lips. Oliver's smile took over his whole face then, like I had just told him his band had sold a million records.

"This is so weird," he admitted, a laugh emitting its way from his throat as he dropped his hands from my face.

"'s gonna be hard," I agreed with a short nod.

"It was harder without yeh," Oliver added.

"So wha' now?"

"I wanna take yeh somewhere," he offered, a playful smile on his lips.

"Uh, are yeh sure 's a...good idea? I mean, yeh 'ave tour Oliver. You 'ave fans an' a job..." I began to ramble. He cut me off quickly but pressing a short kiss to my lips. When he pulled away he was smiling widely.

"Don't worreh about tha' now. Jus' trust me, alrigh'?" He asked, holding out his hand; and with a sheepish smile I grabbed his hand and let him lead me out to his car.

He informed me to put on a blindfold as soon as we got into the car. I was about to protest when he threw a bandana at me and wouldn't leave until I put it over my eyes. I guess you could say I was pretty nervous. I mean, it was all happening so fucking fast and I had racked my brain a million as to where he was taking me and I couldn't think of a single place. We had only been driving for a few minutes when I felt the car come to a stop. Oliver got out of the car and ran around to my side before helping me out. We walked up a few flights of stairs and I heard a door open right before he instructed me to take my blindfold off. And as soon as I did the water works started immediately.

We were standing back where it all started. Back in the flat where Oliver had told me he loved me for the first time, and back where I had lost the baby that destroyed us in more way that one. The sobs racking through me were so powerful they brought me to my knees. Oliver bent down and began rubbing my back softly, but offered no words for me. And it was better that way. Because we both knew no words could justify how we were feeling at that moment.

Everything looked exactly the same as it had two years ago, the only difference being the mattress where I had miscarried Oliver and I's only child was gone, the wood floor considerably lighter in color where it outlined where it used to be. When he noticed my eyes lingering over in that general direction, Oliver cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"I couldn't keep it there, I 'ad ta fhrow it away because if I 'ad ta look at it, it'd just make everyfhin' real," he explained shortly.

"'ow, 'ow," my voice tried to strangle out. I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes before speaking again. "'ow do yeh still 'ave this?" I asked finally.

"I kept payin' rent for it," he said softly. "I didn't wanna sell it. I couldn't realleh..."

"So wha' now?" I inquired again when I had calmed down a considerable amount.

"I figured we could move back in 'ere. Start over," he shrugged like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"But tha's..."

"Don't overanalyze it Tris," he cut me off quickly. "We were 'appy 'ere before tha miscarriage," he cleared his throat then, like he was ridding the word from his throat. "An' we can be 'appy 'ere again. Without drugs. 's not like goin' back, cause we can't go back. We can't ever change wha' 'appened, but we can change wha' 'appens in the future, ya know?"

I studied his face carefully as I pondered my future. I had always wanted it to involve Oliver, and I guess two years ago I thought it would involve this flat as well, but now I wasn't so sure. In rehab we learned about things that would trigger our want to do drugs again. And that's what this flat was- a trigger. Most of my memories there involved shooting up, doing lines, smoking anything I could get my hands on. But then I looked at Oliver, and how sincere he looked. And he was right, we had been happy there before.

"Please Tris," he begged, his hands cupping my face. "All I wan' is yeh."

"Yeh're all I wan' as well," I admitted with a sheepish smile. His smile grew as he slammed his lips against mine. I was happy then. I was actually happy. Genuinely and honestly happy. And even though I knew we were going to catch hell for this, even though I knew people would be upset, even though I knew his band would probably be pissed for missing his flight, and even though Amanda would probably resent me for the rest of my life, I was happy.

Because this all made sense. And nothing else did anymore.

"Sometimes its easier to go out than to stay home and lay on your couch, because when you stay home and lay on your couch and drink chamomile tea, you have to face the facts. That there are people in this world that you cannot have, but that you still want. That even though your want is selective, when you do select to want that person it feels like you have wanted them forever and will want them forever. This, therein lies the difficulty. And this song I’m about to play for you is about just that, its about saying ‘I cannot back up what I feel twenty-four hours a day, but right now you are the only thing I need.’ That’s what I call riding the edge, surfing the edge as I do with my life, constantly surfing the edge of desire.”