White Tears

It has been two years, five months, eight days and five hours since his death. Since their death. Yes, I was counting. But can a person really blame me? I lost the two most important people in my life.

Still, to this day, I imagine that I’m still lying on our bed. His head would be resting on my stomach, talking to our little Scotty. My hands would be gently stroking his hair, massaging his head just the way he liked it.

There isn’t much that I can really say about them. I no longer have a future with them, so I try hard to forget. How does a person forget someone so easily? By living. But me, I just exist. I forgot how to live when they died. I know exactly what the word means; I just don’t know how to follow it.

I haven’t had a job in months, due to being fired from my last one for going off on my boss. I won’t state the reason I went off. It was completely uncalled for. I deserved to be fired. All I do is get up, eat, drink and sleep. Repeat the process every single day for the past five months.

I am in the process of trying to find a job, but it is not working. No one wants to hire someone who is pretty much a zombie. Or hire someone who went off on their boss, for no reason whatsoever.

In the meantime, I am living with my best friend of thirteen years. Cassandra is literally the best friend I have ever had in my life. She understands when it comes to my issues, especially since she had a miscarriage last year. It isn’t completely the same, but it’s still a huge loss where a mother is concerned.

“Ashlynn?” a timid voice called from the other side of the door. A hesitant knock followed when I remained silent.

“Cassandra?” My eyebrows furrowed. She was never this way. Why was she being so skittish all of a sudden, and with me of all people? I sat up from my cocoon of pillows and blankets as the doorknob clicked, alerting me to the door opening.

Her blue eyes took on a hard edge as she saw the state I was in. After a brief moment of the hesitant Cassandra, she crossed her arms over her chest. It was a signature move with her when she was about to say something I wouldn’t like.

“Ashlynn, when was the last time you cleaned this room?” She scanned the room, her eyes falling onto every used glass and plate that was stacked up onto my desk, where my computer had once resided.

It was now placed on the desk chair, covered by dirty clothes I had haphazardly strewn across the room. Actually the whole room was that way.
My eyes cut to my blankets as embarrassment flooded through me, lighting up my face. I shrugged helplessly.

“I hate being rude to you since you’re ultimately family, but right now you need to hear something I have yet to say.” Cassandra took a deep breath. “Ashlynn, you are sick. You are very, very sick. I don’t mean that you have a bacterial virus, but you should have at least tried to make an effort of a life by now, especially while living in my house.

“I care for you. I cook for you, I clean up after you, and I do your laundry. Must I go on?”
More embarrassment flooded me from each word she spoke. There is no way I can fight back against her. She is right. I am a mess. “Cassandra,” I started.

“No.” Her voice cut through, silencing me in a single second. “Do not speak. Ashlynn, you know how much I love you. I opened my arms to you the second your fiancé and baby died. You haven’t been the same since then. I understand that. I understand your pain. I understand that it’s hard to move on, but Ash. You need to try.

“Do you think for one second that your fiancé would be happy to see you here like this? You know he wouldn’t. You were the most independent woman I knew when you were with him. But everything has changed since then.” Cassandra strode forward. She dropped to her knees in front of the bed. Unshed tears clouded her eyes. She was breaking because of me. No, I corrected myself. She was breaking for me. She was trying to take my pain away, but she couldn’t. There was no way to do that.

“Ash.” Her voice had grown hoarse, breaking my heart by the second. She reached forward to take my hand. “You need to learn how to fend for yourself again. You are a broken woman. I do not expect you to go out and get a job right away. I do not expect you to go out and start socializing, and I especially do not expect you to go find another fiancé.

“What I do expect from you is at least some semblance of a person. Right now you are more of an object. You lie here, day after day, doing nothing except staring at the ceiling. You might as well be dead, but you aren’t.” Cassandra dropped my hand. She stood back up, now looking down at me. The tears were no longer in her eyes. They had been replaced by the hardness I had first glimpsed when she walked into the room.

“Clean this room and then clean yourself up. Come out into the living room when you are done. That’s step one. After that, we are going to find you a therapist. Someone needs to get a crack at that brain of yours.”

She moved to walk out of the door, but my voice stopped her, “Cassandra?” She waited for what I had to say. “Thank you.”