Breathing Slowly Never Worked For Me

When I finally returned home, Ronnie was gone. I didn’t expect any less. It was until three weeks later, when I still hadn’t seen him, that I began to worry. I’d been spending more time with my Mom and wanted desperately to call her for help but I knew that would mean telling her everything and I certainly wasn’t ready for that. So, despite my pride, I called the one person I could almost always count on. Max. It didn’t take him long to answer his cell and, when he did, this strange sense of relief washed over me.

“Max?” I asked hesitantly. I could hear drum loops in the background and remembered that they would still be in the studio.

“Lindsey? Is that you?” Max said loudly and I held the phone away from my ear for a moment, “Let me find somewhere a little quieter.” There was some loud thumping before the drum loops and studio noise faded to a soft roaring of the wind and traffic. “Lindsey?” Max asked, a hint of panic in his voice, “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” I replied, “I’m still here.”

“It’s so good to hear from you, Linds. You have no idea. I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry,” he gushed quickly as if he were afraid I was going to hang up at any moment. I shook my head.

“It’s fine. Forget about it,” I answered.

“Oh,” Max said in surprise, “What are you calling for?”

“Have you seen Ronnie?” I asked and then, before he could snap at me, added, “I haven’t seen him in weeks. I’m worried about him. I think he might’ve done something really stupid.” Max took a deep breath.

“He hasn’t turned up to the studio since I saw you last,” he told me, “But I’m sure he’s fine. You know how he is. I’m in the middle of something right now but I’ll come by later, if you’d like.” I nodded quickly.

“Yeah,” I choked out, “If you could.”

“Okay, I’ll call you when I’m on my way. I’ve really got to get back to it,” he said, “He’s going to be fine, Lindsey. I promise.” I could almost see the crooked, reassuring smile on his face.

“Thanks Max,” I replied before hanging up.

It was around eight when Max finally turned up. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, “Things at the studio ran overtime. But I brought dinner.” I smiled as I took the pizza he was holding out to me.

“Vegetarian, extra cheese without pineapple?” I asked as I flipped the box open.

“Of course,” he replied, “How could I possibly forget?” I laughed quietly and went to the fridge.

“Do you want something to drink?” I asked but handed him a soda anyway. I was so happy to have someone’s company that I forgot all about Ronnie. It wasn’t until Max asked that I got that sick feeling in my stomach again. I repeated the story I’d told my Mom but neglected to spare any detail. When I’d finished he looked at me for a long time, contemplating what to say.

“What are you going to do?” he asked tentatively. I bit the inside of my cheek.

“I’m going to leave him,” I told Max. Now that I had said it out loud, I felt far less sure of myself. I immediately began doubting my decision I had once been so firm in making. Max noticed it in the look on my face.

“I’m proud of you,” he said but he had a worried look on his face.

“Why’s that?” I asked with a bitter laugh, wiping my eyes. He shrugged.

“Because I know how hard that decision is for you to make,” he replied with a weak smile, “You’re one of my best friends, Linds. I just want to know you’re safe.” I nodded slowly allowing his words to resound in my mind for a moment. I opened my mouth to ask him something but he cut me off. “You know I’ve always got room for you,” he said with a soft laugh. I smiled at him sheepishly and grabbed another slice of pizza.

Weeks passed and I had finally brought myself to pack up my things. Most of what I owned fit into two suitcases that had been sitting by the front door for days. I’d been working flat out; taking extra shifts whenever I could and spending all of my free time looking for a new job. I managed to drag myself up the stairs and got to the apartment door to find it was already open. I thought I was imagining things as Ronnie’s almond shaped eyes looked up at me.

“Ronnie?” I asked softly and he stood up from where he had been bent over the coffee table. He looked strung out and he tugged his hands through his black hair. It now had a bright red color at his roots until the top of his ears and, looking at him, I felt as if I were greeting someone I went to high school with and hadn’t seen since I left. I watched him in wonder before my anger boiled up inside me again. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you! What was going on here the other night? That’s not you, Ronnie,” I told him, following him the through the apartment, vying for his attention.

“What would you know anyway?” he mumbled looking for his keys.

“I need to talk to you,” I said loudly finally getting him to look up.

“I’m already late,” he replied. I wondered what he could possibly be late for but I didn’t ask.

“Ronnie,” I tried.

“I really don’t have time for this right now, baby,”

“I need to talk to you,” I repeated desperately, my voice cracking with tears that welled at the corners of my eyes. He shrugged.

“Then talk.” I swallowed hard.

“I’m lonely,” I said quietly and he gave me a confused look.

“I’ll try to be home early then. I really don’t get what all this is about, Lindse-.”

“I’m lonely, Ronnie. All the time. When you’re not here and even when you are. I don’t know what to do with myself. And I’m worried about you. So, you don’t come home ‘til three in the morning. Fine. I can handle that. But you don’t come home for six weeks? I mean, what the hell was I supposed to think, Ronnie?” I asked and, when he didn’t say anything, I went on, “I think you might be getting yourself into something worse than you can handle and I don’t think I can help you out of it.”

Ronnie didn’t say anything for a really long time. He buried his hands in his pockets and stared unblinkingly at the front door. “I know you’re leaving me, Lindsey,” he said softly, “I know you’re leaving me and I know exactly where you’re going. But I don’t think there’s anything I can do to get you to stay.” I nodded slowly and went to the door to grab my suitcases. Ronnie grabbed my arm and, before I could say anything, pressed his lips slowly to mine. He pulled away for a moment before leaning his forehead against mine. “When are you going?” he asked.

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?” he repeated, the hurt evident in his voice.

“Max is picking me up in a few minutes,” I explained. Ronnie nodded.

“I’ll help you take your luggage down,” he offered. I shook my head.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I replied and ran my fingers along the side of his face. He nodded again and let me go so I could grab my bags. “You weren’t always good to me Ronnie,” I said carefully and he looked guiltily down at his shoes, “But I was so in love with you.” He laughed softly and tried to smile, reaching for my hand.

“I knew you couldn’t take care of me forever,” he said sadly, “This feels far worse than I thought it would.” I let my hand linger in his a while longer and he grazed his lips against mine. I could almost taste his regret.

“Bye, Ronnie,” I said and took a few short steps backward toward the door. He tried so desperately to keep a hold on my hand but eventually my fingers slipped out of reach. I opened the door and gave him a small wave before leaving the apartment one last time.

When I got to the footpath outside our building, Max was already waiting for me. I smiled and lugged my cases to his car. He quickly got out and helped me lift them into the backseat. I sat in the passenger seat and rested my head against the window as Max started the engine. The city lights slipped by us and, before too long, we were driving down streets I was familiar with but hadn’t seen in a very long time. It wasn’t until Max rested a warm hand on my thigh that I realized I was shaking.

“Cold?” he asked, glancing at me quickly before returning his eyes to the road. I looked over at him and couldn’t help but smile. Just beyond the outline of his head I saw our old apartment building.

I took a deep breath before replying, “Excited.”