Laced » Lip Gallagher [3]

10: spiraling

"And if I could I'd get you the moon and give it to you..."

-

I was the girl who was afraid of ending up alone.

Despite my impeccable ability to push everyone away with caution tape to hold them back, I knew that my deepest fear was being alone. It was something I had been afraid of since I saw my dad kick us out. It was something I had been afraid of since my mother changed the locks. Since Bobby abandoned me on the sidewalk in the middle of nowhere. Since Ty put a metaphorical restraining order on me. Since Julian killed an innocent.

So many people left but the ones who stayed, I kept at arm's length. I pushed them – but not too far that I couldn't pull them back in. I pushed the Gallagher's out more times than I could count, only to reel them back into my bullshit. The truth was I pushed them away because I wanted to feel how much they loved me. How much they cared for me. I knew that every time I ran, one of those lunatics would come running after me.

One in particular, I pushed further than the others.

Maybe I pushed because I have psychopathic tendencies. Maybe I'm your modern Nancy Vicious, in fear of living without her Sid – I don't fucking know. Either way, I was growing tired of it.

Each day, I feel my bones weighing heavier with the truth of my reality. I'm a twenty-something college drop-out with nothing to show for it but a bartending and waitressing gig. And despite my little fuck-buddy stint with Lip, I might as well be more available than your average cat lady living next door. Or in this case, Edna at the laundromat.

I'm growing tired of being the angry girl who screws herself over and ruins everything good in her life. I wanted something more.

Since coming to this realization, I was finding it harder to support my Lip habit – especially now that he was the one clinging to me, scared. Whether or not I care about him doesn't matter. What matters is how I deal with him without destroying myself all over again.

After saying goodbye to Carl at the bus stop and after Lip chased me down with drunken regrets, we walked to my apartment in awkward silence that clung to our skin like thick-wet clothes.

I was tired and he was sorry.

We reached the doorsteps to my apartment when Lip gave me a look that I didn't like.

He bit his bottom lip and played with his box of cigarettes. They were like his keepsake. He flipped the tab open and close, the noise of the wrapper crinkling.

"You good?" I asked with a curious brow.

"You know, uh," He fumbled over his words before continuing, "I've been having trouble sleeping at night lately."

I stared at him with one foot on the bottom step, the other on the first step and my hand touching the handrail. I was ready to book it if I needed to. He just needed to say the right words. Or the wrong words, I guess.