History Doesn't Repeat Itself

Chapter 21

GALE

I hear a car pass by just outside the house. It was probably Christy and Cyder, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to stand up. Guilt was still washing over me and I couldn't help but just stare at the note Lev had given Christy the day he died.

I hear the front door open and close but I still continued to think about Lev.

I missed him.

This is the whole Christy thing all over again, but instead of Christy, It's about Lev now, and I hate that. I hate that I have to experience the same thing from the past a second time. I hate that I still suffer from something that happened years ago.

When Lev died, all I had were Cyder and Christy. But when Christy and I got into that car crash. I had no one. Cyder was never knew about the accident, so I was forced to be alone with no one to tell me that everything would be okay. To tell me that I would be okay.

Now, I have Christy, but she doesn't even remember Lev. She remembers me, but she doesn't remember him.

The only memory she had of him was that nightmare she had the other night. And she still thinks the man in the dream was me. Me.

I'm still sitting on the floor now, and I still regret what I did that night. I regret what I did to everyone around me. To everyone I love.

I hear footsteps in the kitchen. Then they stop after reaching what sounded like the kitchen.

"Christy," I didn't say it with the intent to call her. I said it with the intent to calm myself down.

Hearing myself call her voice calms me down. Hearing her name is enough to bring joy to the depressing shitshow known as my life.

I hear a door outside open, then close. And then more footsteps that were now going towards the bedroom door.

I try to move my arm to cover my eyes and wipe off the tears, but the gravity of the regret I was feeling stopped me from doing so.

"Younger version of Chris Hemsworth." I hear Christy whisper outside the door.

The door creeks open and, "Hey!" She says. "Oh."

While waiting for her, I missed seeing her face. Now that she's in front of me, I don't have the courage to look at her. I was mad at myself that I became the reason she forgot half of her life. I was the reason Lev was fucking dead. I still am, and that fact will never change.

"Lev?" She says. Hearing the name come out of her mouth made me want to curl up into a ball and cry even more.

She walks over to me and glances at the abundance of sticky notes on the floor beside me.

"Are you alright?" She asks.

I'm not. I would have said, but I don't want to become her problem. I already am, but she doesn't know that yet. And I don't think I want her to.

She was the only person I could be myself with. The myself I'm referring to is the one that's not afraid to break apart. The one that loses the "professional" composure. The hard shell but soft interior man that cries every night he thinks about his dead brother and how he was the reason he shot himself that night. The one who isn't afraid to show weakness. The one that shows his love through all means necessary just to see Christy smile.

I'm that person now.

I'm falling apart as she crouches down and grabs a note from the pile and reads it.

"Holy shit," Christy says, looking at me. "Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit."

Her eyes were the only thing that I wanted to look at. But it was the only thing I couldn't bring myself to do. And I seriously fucking hate that.