What's So Good About Picking Up the Pieces ?

Vic’s POV

I banged my fist down on the table. “Damn it Kellin, I told you, I’M FINE !” Kellin had been questioning me about what was wrong with me for the past half hour. He hadn’t known about Chesney, and I was determined to keep it that way. He looked at me with a disbelieving look and hurt in his eyes, and exited the bus. I instantly felt bad about snapping at him, but I couldn’t take his puppy dog eyes pleading with me anymore. He wouldn’t understand; he had Copeland and Katelyn. No one understood my heartbreak, because they hadn’t known Ches like I had. I dropped my head in my hands; people were starting to notice my behavior. It was harder for me to care about whether they did or not, because every day I was without her, something in me died. It was almost as if pieces of me were dropping away, until I wasn’t even myself anymore. I didn’t do any of the things that I used to enjoy doing, and I had no desire to do so. My performance was the only thing that still held a ghost of my former self. I got up and headed to the bathroom, and stared into the mirror. I took off my shirt, looking at how thin I had gotten. My face was definitely looking gaunt, and my ribs showed visibly. I hadn’t been big to begin with, but now I was losing muscle and I had slimmed down to an almost emaciated look. If the guys weren’t with me, I simply didn’t eat. I needed to get my shit together, but I just couldn’t bring myself to convince myself that anything mattered anymore. If you don’t have love, what do you have ?

I slipped my shirt back over my head and left the bathroom. Sighing, I flopped onto the couch and absentmindedly started strumming my guitar. I looked out the window at the guys, gathered around with Sleeping with Sirens, passing out beers and about to build a fire. We were in Ohio right now, and headed to Pennsylvania tomorrow. I didn’t realize I was crying until a tear hit my arm. I wiped my tears away and threw my arm over my eyes. I spread out on the couch, and let it all out.
I had only cried a handful of times since I’d left South Carolina, mostly because I wouldn’t let myself. But I felt this was much needed, I was going insane with my emotions all bottled up inside. I had made the biggest mistake of my life and it had been over a month since I’d seen the love of my life. Things weren’t really looking good for me.

I finally dragged myself off the couch and went to hang out around the bonfire. I pasted a fake smile on my face and drank myself into oblivion. The guys and I stumbled inside about an hour and a half later, all of us drunk out of our minds. I could hardly make it up the bus steps, but somehow I managed. I stumbled to my bunk, collapsing on top of it and wriggling into a comfortable position. I woke up an hour later from a nightmare, and with the sudden urge to throw-up. I jumped out of bed, still tipsy. I was dizzy as hell, and I barely made it to the bathroom three feet from my bunk. I flung the door open, and knelt in front of the toilet. I puked my insides out, and I couldn’t help but feel ashamed at the lack of food in my vomit. I was a grown ass man, I needed to act like it and take care of myself. I guess throwing up made my reevaluate my life somehow…. I spent three hours throwing up before I could head to bed. I was exhausted and I fell asleep instantly. I dreamt of nothing but Chesney all that night, and I blamed the alcohol.

I wouldn’t let myself believe that I was grateful for those dreams brought on by the alcohol.
I was the first one to wake up the next morning. I pulled on a hoodie and silently slipped off the tour bus. I started walking without knowing where I was going. The chilly air woke me up and I started thinking about some things. About how there comes a time when every life goes off course; here is where you are given a choice. Are you going to fight to stay on the path ? Are you going others tell you who you are ? Or will you label yourself ? Is your choice going to haunt you ? Or will you embrace your new path? Each morning you choose to move forward, or to simply give up.

I had made the wrong choice.

I started running.

“Or perhaps it is that time doesn't heal wounds at all, perhaps that is the biggest lie of them all, and instead what happens is that each wound penetrates the body deeper and deeper until one day you find that the sheer geography of your bones - the angle of your hips, the sharpness of your shoulders, as well as the luster of your eyes, the texture of your skin, the openness of your smile - has collapsed under the weight of your griefs.”
― Thrity Umrigar, The Space Between Us