Exits and Entrances

They pass it around like its nothing, and as it gets to me, and I inhale the only thing that makes my heart hurt less, I think of you, Cady. Every single time. How you used to lecture me about what it would do to me, and how you hated that when I smoked, I wasn’t myself.

If I had listened, if I had obeyed your wishes, Cady, would you still be here, by my side, promising me you’d always love me?

You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, Cady, it makes you seem like a much worse person that you actually are. Hell, Cady, I used to give up my world just to hold your hand.

They talk about you all the time, Cady. Danny especially. Even now, as I sit here, he talks about you. “Hey, Shan, you heard from that Cady girl lately?” As if he doesn’t know your name like the back of his hand. And of course, as usual, Jim cuts in like he knows everything about you.

“Yeah, I heard she was hanging out with your ex, Danny. What was her name ... Coraline?” He says, and I grind my teeth, my hand tingling where your fingers used to lay so delicately, the cool metal of the ring your father gave you stinging my skin like I was unworthy.

“Caroline.” My voice is thick with emotion I can’t even feel. They give me weird looks, and I know full well they want to fight. That’s all Danny, Jim, and Carlo ever want to do.

That’s what this stuff does to me, Cady. It makes me forget. Forget simple things, like your favorite color or how tall you are, or forget big things, like the last words you said to me.

I’m not ready to forget.