How Could This Happen?
How Could This Happen?
I open my eyes
I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light
I can't remember how
I can't remember why
I'm lying here tonight
Billie woke up in an unfamiliar room. His eyes opened and promptly closed. It was so fucking bright. He heard voices and squinted into the light. "Wh-What's goin' on?"
He felt a hand grab his. "Hey." a voice said softly. Mike's voice. "You feeling okay?"
"What happened?"
"There . . . there was a car wreck, Billie Joe. You passed out at the wheel." Mike said. "You've got a bit of a concussion and your ankle broke." Mike ran a hand lightly along Billie's arm. "Gave us a scare there."
Tre appeared in the doorway and sat down in a chair on the other side of Billie's bed. "You're up then. That's good."
"How long was I out?"
"Just a few hours." Tre assured him. "Normal, the doctor said."
Normal. Billie snorted at the unknown lie in that word.
And I can't stand the pain
And I can't make it go away
No I can't stand the pain
He'd been staring at his wrists for awhile. Unscarred, unmarked. They'd stay that way. Billie glanced around the empty living room. It was scary, as if the house were haunted and the ghosts were just waiting for him to turn his head, like in that Nintendo game Joey liked so much.
The phone rang, but he didn't move to answer it. Three rings and then the answering machine picked it up.
"You've reached Billie and Adie Armstrong. Leave a message and your number. If we call you we love you and if not you're screwed."
"Hey . . . uh, it's Mike . . . Billie, man . . . you've got to get of the house. Call me . . . or I'll come by tonight, okay . . . I-I'll talk to you later then."
Billie got up, dead bolted the door, and went to the kitchen. He pulled out a beer and went back to the living room. He just stood in the doorway for awhile staring. He hadn't taken any of the pictures down. The wedding picture, the family picture, the picture of him and Adie at the beach that Tre had taken . . .
He braced himself on the doorway when the dizzy spell hit. There'd been more and more of them lately. If my body wants food, why does it make it impossible for me to move across the kitchen?
It was a gradual thing, the anorexia. He didn't just up and quit eating one day. It was stupid to make a meal for one, so he'd just throw together a sandwich or something. Then he was just eating lunch.
It wasn't for weight purposes. He just thought eating was a waste of time, like everything else.
How could this happen to me
I made my mistakes
I've got no where to run
He usually ate what a person would consider half a meal a day. He'd eat a few bites here and a few bites there. When he went grocery shopping he'd get food that you could eat in a bite: olives, candy bars that could break into pieces, crackers . . .
And then gradually, it just became habit. A habit he had to learn to hide from others. A habit disguised from watchful eyes. He laughed off the accusations of 'you look like hell', 'your colour's off', 'you should eat something'.
He would just tell Joey and Jakob that 'Daddy's not really hungry right now, but it looks good, doesn't it?'
He told Adie he was smoking too much and left it at that.
By this time starving himself had come to mean something. It was like doing a Hail Mary if you were Catholic. Atonement for his sins. And he obviously had a lot of them if he was only out of hell two weekends a month.
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
Mike and Tre had noticed, but they never suspected he was starving himself. Sure, they thought he could have eaten more, but they just suspected it was stress and not having lived alone for nearly a decade.
That's why they took turns taking Billie Joe out to dinner a couple times a week. That's why they popped by the house at random times. That's why Mike checked the refrigerator to make sure it go restocked every few weeks. That's why Tre many ground up as many vitamin supplements in Billie's beer as possible.
And that's why they believed it wasn't that bad. Because even if it was bad, they were helping the situation. And they were, but it was ten times worse than they thought it could be.
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me
Billie Joe slipped into the car silently. He just needed out. Just for awhile. A few hours maybe. Just needed to disappear, to forget. Maybe he'd go to a bar, maybe he'd go to Nevada. He didn't know where . . . just anywhere but here.
He was driving in circles . . . or squares . . . or triangles. He really didn't care. He drove past her house so many times he lost count. When the light on the porch turned on and a man appeared in the doorway, he took the left turn so hard his tires screeched.
'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' came on the radio and Billie Joe jabbed the power button. The last thing he needed right now were Mike and Tre's voices in his head. Being around Mike and Tre made him feel guilty. That was not part of his escape.
It happened within seconds. Billie Joe was gripping the wheel and then his hands went slack, his head hit the window and the car veered off in the wrong direction.
Everybody's screaming
I try to make a sound but no one hears me
Mike was still holding Billie's hand when the doctor came in. He looked at Billie Joe over his clipboard. "When was the last time you ate, Mr. Armstrong?"
Mike and Tre exchanged brief glances while Billie Joe struggled to remember. "I . . . yesterday or the day before, I guess."
"And how long have you been on this . . . diet? Your tests state that you're severely undernourished."
"Since April." Billie muttered, clinging to Mike's hand with both of his.
"As your doctor, I'm obligated to request that you receive medical attention. As a person, I'd recommend a hospital stay where your nutritional intake can be carefully watched." he said in a professional manner that ticked both men who weren't in the hospital bed off.
"Bullshit." Tre snapped. "He was in the hospital before and you obviously couldn't do your job right then. What the fuck's changed since then?"
Mike cut the doctor off before he could reply. "Billie doesn't need a hospital. He doesn't need a bunch of strangers making sure he eats. He needs to go home and see his kids. Cutting him off from the world isn't going to do a damn bit of good, obviously. He's been doing it himself for the past six months and look where he is."
I'm slipping off the edge
I'm hanging by a thread
Billie's eyes closed and as he drifted off to a drug induced sleep, he thought about his previous hospital stay.
"You could just try it for a week." Mike said softly. "Just a week. And if it doesn't work then we'll pick you up on Friday. This . . . isn't healthy, Billie Joe."
"We're worried about you." Tre said seriously. "Just try this, Billie. Please." he pleaded.
Billie nodded silently and Mike gave him a quick hug. "Just a week. One week, Billie. Pack a suitcase, okay? We'll wait in the living room."
*
He sat in the white room, staring at the white walls and fidgeting with the white sheets. One week. Six days to go. His mind drifted to Adie as he stared out the window. What had she told Joey and Jakob? He had called her earlier to let her know he might not be able to take the boys this weekend. He didn't tell her where she was.
"But you're their father, Billie Joe! They want to see you. I know it's not work, so what the hell is so important?"
"Adie, I--"
"I told you not to call me that anymore. It's too . . . it's not right anymore, Billie Joe. Will you talk to the kids?"
"I-I can't. Tell them for me? Love you, Adie." He hung up as soon as he realized what he said. It was habit. A habit he needed to break.
And now, sitting in this room and staring at the smog and the lights from the buildings, he didn't think he ever could.
No, there wouldn't be anymore hospital stays. None. And Billie Joe slipped off to sleep.
I wanna start this over again
Billie Joe's car halted when, ironically enough, it hit a stop sign. The airbag went off. The paramedics were quick and arrived to find a frazzled woman giving Billie CPR.
They managed to bring him to consciousness for a few minutes in the back of the car. Unfortunately, they thought he was slightly off from the concussion.
"Adie!" was the first word out of his mouth. "Adie. God, the kids." He started coughing up blood before he could say anything else.
After they had transferred Billie Joe to the care of a few nurses and a doctor, one of the EMTs went through the history in Billie Joe's phone. The number he decided to call was Mike's. Billie had called it at least four times a day every day that week.
"Do you know what fucking time it is?" a groggy voice complained when he picked up the phone.
"Do you know a Billie Joe Armstrong?" the unsure paramedic asked.
"Billie? What the fuck's wrong with Billie?"
"They just brought him into St. Mary's Memorial. Car accident."
So I try to hold onto a time when nothing mattered
Billie Joe kept waking up from fragments of dreams. He never opened his eyes because he knew Tre and Mike were both there still, watching him.
Billie Joe came off the plane and dropped his bag as Joey and Jakob ran toward him. "Daddy! Daddy!"
He knelt immediately, returning their hugs and kisses. "God, you two must have grown a foot since I was here last."
Jakob looked confused. "No. I have two feet."
Billie laughed and scooped one kid up in each arm. Somehow, between kissing his sons, he managed to give his wife one as well.
But if you have nine good dreams in one night, you're bound to have at least one bad.
"I'm filing for divorce." Adie said one night as Billie Joe came out of the bathroom connected to their bedroom.
"What?" he asked. "I didn't hear you right. What did you say?"
"I'm filing for divorce." she said again.
Billie stared at her. "But . . . why?"
Adie smiled at him. "It's not our marriage. Our marriage is great. It's always been great. But I'm just not in love with you anymore."
Billie didn't move. A life without Adie? And then he glanced out their bedroom door to see the dinosaur drawing on the door across from theirs. His kids. Fuck, Adie was going to take his kids.
Why was this happening?
And I can't explain what happened
And I can't erase the things that I've done
No I can't
"Why weren't you eating?" Tre asked, ignoring the shaking of Mike's head.
Billie looked at Tre and didn't say anything for a second. Then he spoke in a soft voice. "At first I just didn't want to eat. I didn't want to do anything. I didn't want to die, but everything was a waste of time, you know? I was just trapped inside that house with all those memories and so I just stayed in our, I mean my room and didn't do anything."
Mike looked at the ground and Tre gently took Billie's hand as the older man continued. "And then I just started doing it as . . . I don't know, a punishment maybe? Like, if it was a good day I could eat and if it was a bad day I could hardly eat. But most days were bad days.
"I just . . . I miss it so bad. Ten years and then she just doesn't love me anymore. And I only get to see the boys two weekends a month. And there's another guy standing in her doorway when I go pick up Joey and Jakob.
"I guess I forgot when I didn't eat. I mean, I kind of had to. Blackouts and everything. I didn't like thinking about it. I didn't like talking about it. I didn't like talking. I didn't want to do anything except forget." Billie turned his head as Mike took a deep breath, looking at the tear stains on his best friend's cheeks. "Mike . . ."
Mike closed his eyes and took another breath, then opened his blue orbs and focused them on Billie's face, a hand on his shoulder. "You should have said something. Anything, Billie Joe. Damnit."
Tre was biting his lip and staring at the man lying in the hospital bed. If only they had something, done more than they had . . . they wouldn't be here now. This wouldn't have happened.
How could this happen to me
I made my mistakes
I've got no where to run
"Dad?" Joey's head poked into the room and Jakob's entire body stood in the doorway, clutching his mother's hand.
Tre and Mike stood, preparing to leave and get more coffee or something. Family moment. Privacy requested. Please RSVP.
Adrienne followed them.
Joey quickly walked over to the bed and climbed into the chair Mike had been sitting in. Jakob came in more slowly, looking visibly upset. "Daddy?"
"Come here, sport." Billie Joe said. "You grew a foot since I saw you last, didn't you?"
"Daddy, what happened?" Joey asked. "Was it a car wreck?"
Billie nodded. "Yeah. But I'm okay and nobody else got hurt."
"You hurt, Daddy?" Jakob asked.
"Broke my ankle and bumped my head." Billie said. "But it'll be better in a few weeks. And I have a cast that you can sign." By this time Jakob had crawled up onto the hospital bed and Joey was sitting on his knees in the chair Mike had been in. "How are you two?"
"Fine." Joey said. "Uncle Mike called Mom and she brought us down to see you." He lowered his voice and hid his mouth behind his hand like he'd seen his parents do. "She was crying, Dad."
Billie didn't say anything. "Well, there's nothing to cry about. The doctors said I'll probably be able to leave tonight." He kissed Jakob's cheek and reached for Joey's hand. "I'm glad you guys are here, though."
"I'm glad we're here, too, Daddy." Jakob said, kissing his father back.
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
"You're staying with me until we get this whole thing sorted out." Mike said as Billie signed the papers the nurse handed to him. "No arguments, all right? You can argue with me tomorrow."
"Fine." Billie said, shrugging. "I'm too tired to argue with you anyway. I feel like a sixth grade nerd on those damn crutches, though."
Mike laughed. There! There was a part of Billie Joe that the divorce hadn't take away. If only he could dig some more of them up. He knew there was still some Billie Joe in there.
The car ride home was mostly silent. Billie stared out the window, a cigarette in his hand. "Did Adie bring the boys?" he asked about halfway to Mike's house.
"Yeah." he answered. "I called her while you were out. I figured the boys would want to see you."
"Did she?"
"Did she what?"
"Did she want to see me?"
"She didn't think it was a good idea. She asked how you were. She wanted to make sure you'd be okay."
"I hate her."
"I know."
"I love her."
"I know, Billie. I know."
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me
Billie stared at the cupboards in his kitchen. All of them were open and he was leaning against the counter staring at them. You've got to do this. he told himself. You have to eat, man. It's just food. Every second you don't eat you're letting Adie win.
But he wanted Adie to win. Because Adie always won when they were married. And if she lost, it meant . . . it was over. Which he knew wasn't rational because they were over. But, God, how he hated it.
*
"You've got to eat." Mike said, dragging Billie into the kitchen. "You've got to eat something. How much do you weigh now? Twenty, thirty pounds?"
"Shut the fuck up." Billie said, wiping sleep from his eyes.
"No, you shut up." Mike said, throwing his friend against the wall. His hands came down on either side of Billie's head and he leaned in until their noses were almost touching. "You have to fucking eat something. This isn't healthy. What the fuck are you going to tell your kids? 'Daddy looks like shit because he's an anorexic.' Don't play this game, Billie Joe. You can't win this time."
"I can't eat." Billie said. "You don't understand." Mike was already digging through the cupboards.
"Explain it to me." Mike said, throwing every ready-to-serve food item onto Billie's counter top. "Explain it to me while you eat."
So Billie Joe ate.
Then he ran to the bathroom and threw up.
I made my mistakes
I've got no where to run
Billie grabbed and beer and sat down on the couch, barely noticing the phone ringing.
"You've reached Billie and Adie Armstrong. Leave a message and your number. If we call you we love you and if not you're screwed."
"Billie, you really need to change that damn message. I know it's your weekend to have the boys, but . . . I really don't want to do this, Billie. You have to believe me. And I know two weekends a month isn't enough and maybe after you get health, we'll change the custody arrangement because, you're right, it sucks.
"But you can't see the boys until you get help. I can't let you. It's not healthy for you and it's not healthy for them. I'm sorry. Just get some help, Billie. Call me if you need anything. Just because we're divorced doesn't mean I still don't--"
The machine cut her off before she could finish her sentence. Or maybe that was Billie Joe throwing his beer bottle at the answering machine.
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
He was driving around again, laughing as he threw cigarette butt after cigarette butt out the window. He drove around, passing the house where his ex-wife lived with his children's stepfather. This time he didn't look back. He knew where he was going.
A two story house with a black BMW sitting in the driveway. Flowers no one bothered to keep up with on either side of the front porch. Billie Joe put out a final cigarette as he got out of his car, shutting the door as quietly as possible.
Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets he made his way to the oak door, slowly knocking on it. He glanced at his watch and inwardly hit himself. Midnight. He could have at least been polite and waited until morning.
The door opened and the man inside stared for a minute. "Billie? What is it? What's wrong?"
"Mike . . ." Billie broke down then, throwing his arms around his best friend's neck and sobbing into his shoulder. "I need help. I need help so fucking bad right now."
Mike rubbed his friend's back through his jacket and kissed his temple. "All right. Come in, we'll talk about this, all right?"
"I'm sorry, I--"
"No." Mike kissed Billie's forehead. "Never be sorry for stuff like this. It fucking took guts to come down here and ask me for help. And I'm going to help you, all right? We'll fix this."
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
"You're a fucking idiot, Billie." Mike said, throwing a french fry at the baseball cap his friend was wearing.
"Yeah, but you love me." Billie said, picking the french fry off the brim of his hat, dipping it in ketchup, and eating it.
"Oh, man. That's fucking nasty." Mike said. Billie shrugged and reached for his beer. "You okay today?" Mike asked.
Billie shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, it hasn't been a great day, but it hasn't been a total loss. I ate breakfast, I ate lunch. Sat around and watched TV. Called Adie."
"You get to see them?"
"This Friday we're going to pick them up from school."
"We?"
Billie smiled. "Yeah. I guess I can't cut her out of my life entirely, right? I mean, she's their mother and I still love her. I just got to stop letting the divorce control everything."
"You think you can?" Mike asked.
Billie thought for a minute and then nodded. "Yeah. I think I can. Besides, I know you and Tre'll kick my ass if I don't."
How could this happen to me
"Daddy!" Jakob through his arms around Billie, who scooped him up and kissed his cheek. "I missed you." Jakob said.
"I missed you, too, buddy. I missed you too."
Joey was tugging on his dad's arm and Billie Joe knelt, pulling his oldest son in for a hug. "God, you two must have grown a foot since I saw you last." Billie said, fighting off his tears.
"Are you better now?" Joey asked.
"Much better." Billie said, kissing his forehead. "Much much better."
I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light
I can't remember how
I can't remember why
I'm lying here tonight
Billie woke up in an unfamiliar room. His eyes opened and promptly closed. It was so fucking bright. He heard voices and squinted into the light. "Wh-What's goin' on?"
He felt a hand grab his. "Hey." a voice said softly. Mike's voice. "You feeling okay?"
"What happened?"
"There . . . there was a car wreck, Billie Joe. You passed out at the wheel." Mike said. "You've got a bit of a concussion and your ankle broke." Mike ran a hand lightly along Billie's arm. "Gave us a scare there."
Tre appeared in the doorway and sat down in a chair on the other side of Billie's bed. "You're up then. That's good."
"How long was I out?"
"Just a few hours." Tre assured him. "Normal, the doctor said."
Normal. Billie snorted at the unknown lie in that word.
And I can't stand the pain
And I can't make it go away
No I can't stand the pain
He'd been staring at his wrists for awhile. Unscarred, unmarked. They'd stay that way. Billie glanced around the empty living room. It was scary, as if the house were haunted and the ghosts were just waiting for him to turn his head, like in that Nintendo game Joey liked so much.
The phone rang, but he didn't move to answer it. Three rings and then the answering machine picked it up.
"You've reached Billie and Adie Armstrong. Leave a message and your number. If we call you we love you and if not you're screwed."
"Hey . . . uh, it's Mike . . . Billie, man . . . you've got to get of the house. Call me . . . or I'll come by tonight, okay . . . I-I'll talk to you later then."
Billie got up, dead bolted the door, and went to the kitchen. He pulled out a beer and went back to the living room. He just stood in the doorway for awhile staring. He hadn't taken any of the pictures down. The wedding picture, the family picture, the picture of him and Adie at the beach that Tre had taken . . .
He braced himself on the doorway when the dizzy spell hit. There'd been more and more of them lately. If my body wants food, why does it make it impossible for me to move across the kitchen?
It was a gradual thing, the anorexia. He didn't just up and quit eating one day. It was stupid to make a meal for one, so he'd just throw together a sandwich or something. Then he was just eating lunch.
It wasn't for weight purposes. He just thought eating was a waste of time, like everything else.
How could this happen to me
I made my mistakes
I've got no where to run
He usually ate what a person would consider half a meal a day. He'd eat a few bites here and a few bites there. When he went grocery shopping he'd get food that you could eat in a bite: olives, candy bars that could break into pieces, crackers . . .
And then gradually, it just became habit. A habit he had to learn to hide from others. A habit disguised from watchful eyes. He laughed off the accusations of 'you look like hell', 'your colour's off', 'you should eat something'.
He would just tell Joey and Jakob that 'Daddy's not really hungry right now, but it looks good, doesn't it?'
He told Adie he was smoking too much and left it at that.
By this time starving himself had come to mean something. It was like doing a Hail Mary if you were Catholic. Atonement for his sins. And he obviously had a lot of them if he was only out of hell two weekends a month.
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
Mike and Tre had noticed, but they never suspected he was starving himself. Sure, they thought he could have eaten more, but they just suspected it was stress and not having lived alone for nearly a decade.
That's why they took turns taking Billie Joe out to dinner a couple times a week. That's why they popped by the house at random times. That's why Mike checked the refrigerator to make sure it go restocked every few weeks. That's why Tre many ground up as many vitamin supplements in Billie's beer as possible.
And that's why they believed it wasn't that bad. Because even if it was bad, they were helping the situation. And they were, but it was ten times worse than they thought it could be.
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me
Billie Joe slipped into the car silently. He just needed out. Just for awhile. A few hours maybe. Just needed to disappear, to forget. Maybe he'd go to a bar, maybe he'd go to Nevada. He didn't know where . . . just anywhere but here.
He was driving in circles . . . or squares . . . or triangles. He really didn't care. He drove past her house so many times he lost count. When the light on the porch turned on and a man appeared in the doorway, he took the left turn so hard his tires screeched.
'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' came on the radio and Billie Joe jabbed the power button. The last thing he needed right now were Mike and Tre's voices in his head. Being around Mike and Tre made him feel guilty. That was not part of his escape.
It happened within seconds. Billie Joe was gripping the wheel and then his hands went slack, his head hit the window and the car veered off in the wrong direction.
Everybody's screaming
I try to make a sound but no one hears me
Mike was still holding Billie's hand when the doctor came in. He looked at Billie Joe over his clipboard. "When was the last time you ate, Mr. Armstrong?"
Mike and Tre exchanged brief glances while Billie Joe struggled to remember. "I . . . yesterday or the day before, I guess."
"And how long have you been on this . . . diet? Your tests state that you're severely undernourished."
"Since April." Billie muttered, clinging to Mike's hand with both of his.
"As your doctor, I'm obligated to request that you receive medical attention. As a person, I'd recommend a hospital stay where your nutritional intake can be carefully watched." he said in a professional manner that ticked both men who weren't in the hospital bed off.
"Bullshit." Tre snapped. "He was in the hospital before and you obviously couldn't do your job right then. What the fuck's changed since then?"
Mike cut the doctor off before he could reply. "Billie doesn't need a hospital. He doesn't need a bunch of strangers making sure he eats. He needs to go home and see his kids. Cutting him off from the world isn't going to do a damn bit of good, obviously. He's been doing it himself for the past six months and look where he is."
I'm slipping off the edge
I'm hanging by a thread
Billie's eyes closed and as he drifted off to a drug induced sleep, he thought about his previous hospital stay.
"You could just try it for a week." Mike said softly. "Just a week. And if it doesn't work then we'll pick you up on Friday. This . . . isn't healthy, Billie Joe."
"We're worried about you." Tre said seriously. "Just try this, Billie. Please." he pleaded.
Billie nodded silently and Mike gave him a quick hug. "Just a week. One week, Billie. Pack a suitcase, okay? We'll wait in the living room."
*
He sat in the white room, staring at the white walls and fidgeting with the white sheets. One week. Six days to go. His mind drifted to Adie as he stared out the window. What had she told Joey and Jakob? He had called her earlier to let her know he might not be able to take the boys this weekend. He didn't tell her where she was.
"But you're their father, Billie Joe! They want to see you. I know it's not work, so what the hell is so important?"
"Adie, I--"
"I told you not to call me that anymore. It's too . . . it's not right anymore, Billie Joe. Will you talk to the kids?"
"I-I can't. Tell them for me? Love you, Adie." He hung up as soon as he realized what he said. It was habit. A habit he needed to break.
And now, sitting in this room and staring at the smog and the lights from the buildings, he didn't think he ever could.
No, there wouldn't be anymore hospital stays. None. And Billie Joe slipped off to sleep.
I wanna start this over again
Billie Joe's car halted when, ironically enough, it hit a stop sign. The airbag went off. The paramedics were quick and arrived to find a frazzled woman giving Billie CPR.
They managed to bring him to consciousness for a few minutes in the back of the car. Unfortunately, they thought he was slightly off from the concussion.
"Adie!" was the first word out of his mouth. "Adie. God, the kids." He started coughing up blood before he could say anything else.
After they had transferred Billie Joe to the care of a few nurses and a doctor, one of the EMTs went through the history in Billie Joe's phone. The number he decided to call was Mike's. Billie had called it at least four times a day every day that week.
"Do you know what fucking time it is?" a groggy voice complained when he picked up the phone.
"Do you know a Billie Joe Armstrong?" the unsure paramedic asked.
"Billie? What the fuck's wrong with Billie?"
"They just brought him into St. Mary's Memorial. Car accident."
So I try to hold onto a time when nothing mattered
Billie Joe kept waking up from fragments of dreams. He never opened his eyes because he knew Tre and Mike were both there still, watching him.
Billie Joe came off the plane and dropped his bag as Joey and Jakob ran toward him. "Daddy! Daddy!"
He knelt immediately, returning their hugs and kisses. "God, you two must have grown a foot since I was here last."
Jakob looked confused. "No. I have two feet."
Billie laughed and scooped one kid up in each arm. Somehow, between kissing his sons, he managed to give his wife one as well.
But if you have nine good dreams in one night, you're bound to have at least one bad.
"I'm filing for divorce." Adie said one night as Billie Joe came out of the bathroom connected to their bedroom.
"What?" he asked. "I didn't hear you right. What did you say?"
"I'm filing for divorce." she said again.
Billie stared at her. "But . . . why?"
Adie smiled at him. "It's not our marriage. Our marriage is great. It's always been great. But I'm just not in love with you anymore."
Billie didn't move. A life without Adie? And then he glanced out their bedroom door to see the dinosaur drawing on the door across from theirs. His kids. Fuck, Adie was going to take his kids.
Why was this happening?
And I can't explain what happened
And I can't erase the things that I've done
No I can't
"Why weren't you eating?" Tre asked, ignoring the shaking of Mike's head.
Billie looked at Tre and didn't say anything for a second. Then he spoke in a soft voice. "At first I just didn't want to eat. I didn't want to do anything. I didn't want to die, but everything was a waste of time, you know? I was just trapped inside that house with all those memories and so I just stayed in our, I mean my room and didn't do anything."
Mike looked at the ground and Tre gently took Billie's hand as the older man continued. "And then I just started doing it as . . . I don't know, a punishment maybe? Like, if it was a good day I could eat and if it was a bad day I could hardly eat. But most days were bad days.
"I just . . . I miss it so bad. Ten years and then she just doesn't love me anymore. And I only get to see the boys two weekends a month. And there's another guy standing in her doorway when I go pick up Joey and Jakob.
"I guess I forgot when I didn't eat. I mean, I kind of had to. Blackouts and everything. I didn't like thinking about it. I didn't like talking about it. I didn't like talking. I didn't want to do anything except forget." Billie turned his head as Mike took a deep breath, looking at the tear stains on his best friend's cheeks. "Mike . . ."
Mike closed his eyes and took another breath, then opened his blue orbs and focused them on Billie's face, a hand on his shoulder. "You should have said something. Anything, Billie Joe. Damnit."
Tre was biting his lip and staring at the man lying in the hospital bed. If only they had something, done more than they had . . . they wouldn't be here now. This wouldn't have happened.
How could this happen to me
I made my mistakes
I've got no where to run
"Dad?" Joey's head poked into the room and Jakob's entire body stood in the doorway, clutching his mother's hand.
Tre and Mike stood, preparing to leave and get more coffee or something. Family moment. Privacy requested. Please RSVP.
Adrienne followed them.
Joey quickly walked over to the bed and climbed into the chair Mike had been sitting in. Jakob came in more slowly, looking visibly upset. "Daddy?"
"Come here, sport." Billie Joe said. "You grew a foot since I saw you last, didn't you?"
"Daddy, what happened?" Joey asked. "Was it a car wreck?"
Billie nodded. "Yeah. But I'm okay and nobody else got hurt."
"You hurt, Daddy?" Jakob asked.
"Broke my ankle and bumped my head." Billie said. "But it'll be better in a few weeks. And I have a cast that you can sign." By this time Jakob had crawled up onto the hospital bed and Joey was sitting on his knees in the chair Mike had been in. "How are you two?"
"Fine." Joey said. "Uncle Mike called Mom and she brought us down to see you." He lowered his voice and hid his mouth behind his hand like he'd seen his parents do. "She was crying, Dad."
Billie didn't say anything. "Well, there's nothing to cry about. The doctors said I'll probably be able to leave tonight." He kissed Jakob's cheek and reached for Joey's hand. "I'm glad you guys are here, though."
"I'm glad we're here, too, Daddy." Jakob said, kissing his father back.
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
"You're staying with me until we get this whole thing sorted out." Mike said as Billie signed the papers the nurse handed to him. "No arguments, all right? You can argue with me tomorrow."
"Fine." Billie said, shrugging. "I'm too tired to argue with you anyway. I feel like a sixth grade nerd on those damn crutches, though."
Mike laughed. There! There was a part of Billie Joe that the divorce hadn't take away. If only he could dig some more of them up. He knew there was still some Billie Joe in there.
The car ride home was mostly silent. Billie stared out the window, a cigarette in his hand. "Did Adie bring the boys?" he asked about halfway to Mike's house.
"Yeah." he answered. "I called her while you were out. I figured the boys would want to see you."
"Did she?"
"Did she what?"
"Did she want to see me?"
"She didn't think it was a good idea. She asked how you were. She wanted to make sure you'd be okay."
"I hate her."
"I know."
"I love her."
"I know, Billie. I know."
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me
Billie stared at the cupboards in his kitchen. All of them were open and he was leaning against the counter staring at them. You've got to do this. he told himself. You have to eat, man. It's just food. Every second you don't eat you're letting Adie win.
But he wanted Adie to win. Because Adie always won when they were married. And if she lost, it meant . . . it was over. Which he knew wasn't rational because they were over. But, God, how he hated it.
*
"You've got to eat." Mike said, dragging Billie into the kitchen. "You've got to eat something. How much do you weigh now? Twenty, thirty pounds?"
"Shut the fuck up." Billie said, wiping sleep from his eyes.
"No, you shut up." Mike said, throwing his friend against the wall. His hands came down on either side of Billie's head and he leaned in until their noses were almost touching. "You have to fucking eat something. This isn't healthy. What the fuck are you going to tell your kids? 'Daddy looks like shit because he's an anorexic.' Don't play this game, Billie Joe. You can't win this time."
"I can't eat." Billie said. "You don't understand." Mike was already digging through the cupboards.
"Explain it to me." Mike said, throwing every ready-to-serve food item onto Billie's counter top. "Explain it to me while you eat."
So Billie Joe ate.
Then he ran to the bathroom and threw up.
I made my mistakes
I've got no where to run
Billie grabbed and beer and sat down on the couch, barely noticing the phone ringing.
"You've reached Billie and Adie Armstrong. Leave a message and your number. If we call you we love you and if not you're screwed."
"Billie, you really need to change that damn message. I know it's your weekend to have the boys, but . . . I really don't want to do this, Billie. You have to believe me. And I know two weekends a month isn't enough and maybe after you get health, we'll change the custody arrangement because, you're right, it sucks.
"But you can't see the boys until you get help. I can't let you. It's not healthy for you and it's not healthy for them. I'm sorry. Just get some help, Billie. Call me if you need anything. Just because we're divorced doesn't mean I still don't--"
The machine cut her off before she could finish her sentence. Or maybe that was Billie Joe throwing his beer bottle at the answering machine.
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
He was driving around again, laughing as he threw cigarette butt after cigarette butt out the window. He drove around, passing the house where his ex-wife lived with his children's stepfather. This time he didn't look back. He knew where he was going.
A two story house with a black BMW sitting in the driveway. Flowers no one bothered to keep up with on either side of the front porch. Billie Joe put out a final cigarette as he got out of his car, shutting the door as quietly as possible.
Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets he made his way to the oak door, slowly knocking on it. He glanced at his watch and inwardly hit himself. Midnight. He could have at least been polite and waited until morning.
The door opened and the man inside stared for a minute. "Billie? What is it? What's wrong?"
"Mike . . ." Billie broke down then, throwing his arms around his best friend's neck and sobbing into his shoulder. "I need help. I need help so fucking bad right now."
Mike rubbed his friend's back through his jacket and kissed his temple. "All right. Come in, we'll talk about this, all right?"
"I'm sorry, I--"
"No." Mike kissed Billie's forehead. "Never be sorry for stuff like this. It fucking took guts to come down here and ask me for help. And I'm going to help you, all right? We'll fix this."
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
"You're a fucking idiot, Billie." Mike said, throwing a french fry at the baseball cap his friend was wearing.
"Yeah, but you love me." Billie said, picking the french fry off the brim of his hat, dipping it in ketchup, and eating it.
"Oh, man. That's fucking nasty." Mike said. Billie shrugged and reached for his beer. "You okay today?" Mike asked.
Billie shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, it hasn't been a great day, but it hasn't been a total loss. I ate breakfast, I ate lunch. Sat around and watched TV. Called Adie."
"You get to see them?"
"This Friday we're going to pick them up from school."
"We?"
Billie smiled. "Yeah. I guess I can't cut her out of my life entirely, right? I mean, she's their mother and I still love her. I just got to stop letting the divorce control everything."
"You think you can?" Mike asked.
Billie thought for a minute and then nodded. "Yeah. I think I can. Besides, I know you and Tre'll kick my ass if I don't."
How could this happen to me
"Daddy!" Jakob through his arms around Billie, who scooped him up and kissed his cheek. "I missed you." Jakob said.
"I missed you, too, buddy. I missed you too."
Joey was tugging on his dad's arm and Billie Joe knelt, pulling his oldest son in for a hug. "God, you two must have grown a foot since I saw you last." Billie said, fighting off his tears.
"Are you better now?" Joey asked.
"Much better." Billie said, kissing his forehead. "Much much better."