Physical Therapy

I don't know how I managed to get from Rosemont to Phil's condo in one piece, tears streaming down my face made it nearly impossible to see and I found myself wishing that something would happen, if only to alleviate the pain in my chest temporarily.

The look on his face, the shock, the pain, and the sadness tore me up when I knew I had no reason to be upset. He did this to me, he could go fuck himself. I turned on the Hawks game, willing myself to focus on anything but wrestling but found myself switching over to the Network. The pay per view was half over and the likelihood that I missed The Shield was high. But I never had great timing anyway. So of course, there they are, in the ring with Evolution.

Shutting the Apple TV off, I went to the liquor store down the street, getting drunk was the only thing that could keep me angry, keep me from feeling what I really felt, and possibly kept me strong in my decision.

I walked to the liquor store and of course, OF COURSE, the clerk is wearing a Shield shirt.

"You like wrestling?" He asks, catching me glaring at his shirt.

"No, wrestling is fake. And I heard the Shield are assholes in real life." I take my Fireball whiskey and walk back to Phil's condo. I don't even bother to get a glass, I sit on the couch with the open bottle, I scan through my Instagram, nearly every picture has a caption about Jon or he is in the picture.

One by one I delete them. At least I won't be notified of all the likes they get and I can pretend that in one part of my world he doesn't exist. I get through half the pictures before I open the video, a video I took before he went to the UK. We are driving to the next show and he is singing "All of Me" horribly off key but at the same time, it's incredibly beautiful. I delete the video, hoping that I did it quick enough to block the tears, but they come anyway.

I want to hate him. I want him to be in pain. But it's hard to hate someone when you can't stop loving them.

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I don't know what time it was but the sun was streaming through the window and a hand was shaking my shoulder. I open my eyes slightly and look around, I start to remember lots of Fireball and crying myself to sleep on the couch.

"How we feelin' bud?" Phil's was voice was ever so cheerful, I hated it.

"Drunk. And hungover. Can I be both at once?" I sat up on the couch, quickly lying back done as the world felt unsteady beneath me.

"That's a question for someone who drinks, but I would say yes, looking at you? Definitely yes." He sat on the floor in front my face, turning his head so it was parallel with mine, "Care to talk about it?"

"About what? How the Hawks lost and now the Kings are going to win the cup in five, four, no. Definitely five." I hold up five fingers, which really look like seven to me, and squint to focus, giving him a small smile to let him know I am okay. I'm not okay, but it's just easier if he thinks that.

"While we can discuss that as well, you know what I'm talking about. What happened?" His smile slides off of his face and I see the concern in his dark eyes.

"I confronted him, screamed at him in the hallway, cried, broke down, he didn't say anything and then I came home." I close my eyes and roll onto my back, holding my eyes closed. Hoping to keep the tears from coming again.

"You need to go see Dr. Kathy." He rolled over, his back against the front of the couch, "do you want me to call her, or do you?"

"Can you just stay the fuck out of my life for just a minute? Fuck. " I wasn't angry at him, the lashing out was a side effort of the heartbreak. I really wanted to be left alone, I wanted to cry it out and just be alone.

"I did, I let you sleep for 13 hours. And that was a lot of minutes." He holds up his hand and mocks counting them on his fingers. He takes a deep breath and shrugs his shoulders, turning around and walking towards the kitchen. I don't sit up to watch him, I keep my eyes focused on the ceiling. Counting the number of wood boards that adorn it "Go back to sleep, AJ and I have errands to run. When we get back we can talk about your next step."

"What next step? I have no job, no boyfriend, nothing." I throw my hands up in the air and then fall back on to me.

"I may have saved your job, so maybe you should consider scaling back on being a bitch." His voice moving again, letting me know he was doing something and I could hear water running. I smile to myself, grateful that he was filling up a glass of water and rummaging in the cabinets, hopefully searching for some ibuprofen "Jon texted me last night, probably as you were drowning your sorrows and filled me in on what happened, just the abbreviated version though. After I told him that he's a fucking asshole for hurting you and I was going to kill him, I called Paul. I explained the situation, and because you are one of the best people they have, they agreed to grant you a months worth of personal leave, and once the month is up, you can decide what to do. So you have a month to figure shit out. Well I am only giving you 8 days, because I am getting married in 11 days and I need you." He rounded the couch and held out the water.
"Open." I opened my mouth as directed and he dropped the pills, "drink, now go lay down in the guest bedroom. I will call Kathy, get you in for tomorrow. Today? Go rest. You look like hell, kid."

He placed a light kiss on the top of my head and I drifted off to sleep.

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My match was awful. I was off pace and unfocused. Colby and Joe knew what happened, it was hard not to figure it out when I destroyed the locker room. After we won I stalked the halls hoping by some sheer luck she hadn't left and I could convince her to listen to me, to see that she was my everything. But she was gone.

I texted Phil, she hadn't called him so I had to fill him in. He threatened to kill me, and I couldn't blame him. He had no idea where she would go but assumed that she went home or to his place. The PPV was wrapping up and inspiration struck me, I had a key and a code to get in her building. I could check on her, what else did I have to lose at this point?

Our hotel was blocks from the arena, I knew Joe and Colby would understand. They would know why I took the car and where I went.

Her condo was dark when I pulled up, but I decided to go up anyway. Entering the condo I heard the familiar noise of the alarm, confirming that she wasn't here. I turned it off and looked around the condo in shock. There was glass everywhere around the floor, I saw some picture frames scattered about. Stepping carefully to avoid further breaking any glass, I flipped some over. They were pictures of us, in the car, snuggling in bed, and one of her smiling so bright as I slept on her shoulder.

I am a royal shithead.

I looked around and noticed the blood. She slipped and fell, cutting her head on the broken glass. Even when I'm not here, I still hurt her. My face got hot and my eyes started to sting.

And I felt the tears begin to fall. I can't even remember the last time I cried. It had to have been when I was kid, before I started only looking out for myself, hurting people before they could hurt me. So much like I did this time. I took a minute and gathered myself. I put all the picture frames back to how they were before, and left my key in the kitchen counter. I grabbed a piece of paper and leave a note for her. I walked to the door and looked around. This was the one place that finally felt like home, and I didn't know if I ever would be back here again.

I left the condo and restarted the alarm. And I cried the entire way to the hotel.

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I spent all of Monday asleep, only to wake up with enough time to catch the end of RAW to see Colby turn on Jon and Joe. I sat on the couch in stunned silence with Phil and AJ. No one saw that coming, and even though Jon was a phenomenal actor, it was clear to me, that the hurt in his eyes was real.

I couldn't handle it. I couldn't watch him get beat. I wanted to enjoy this destruction of his character. But it only ended up making my pain hurt more. I went into the kitchen, gripped the countertop and started to count my breathing, I felt Phil stand next to me. He placed a hand on mine, rubbing my hand gently with his thumb, exactly how Jon used to. And I lost it, completely.

I stayed up the entire night. Sleeping in Phil's guest room. Staring at the ceiling. I cried so much that it seemed like I would run out of tears before the sun came up. At 7am, AJ came into the room, carrying two cups of hot green tea.

Maybe today could be better, the green tea filled my mouth and warmed my throat. Putting my body at ease, I could feel my muscles relaxing and the tension easing off of me.