irrevocable

{Fifteen}

August // Taylor Swift

Holly

Jackson hasn't been back in my life for very long. And now he's only been gone for a day, but it feels like a lifetime without him. I don't remember life before. What did I do with my time? What did I have to look forward to?

It's now when I'm faced with missing him that I realize how dreadful my life was before. I was breathing in and out, waking and eating and sleeping. And that's it. There was no joy, no anticipation. Nothing to look forward to. No one to confide in. Jackson became all of those things to me, every important piece of who I am. It's all wrapped up in him.

The day without him here shouldn't feel much different. We've texted the same, constantly. We talked a few times, but he was distracted with packing, I think. He seemed distant. Maybe I'm overthinking it. Maybe he's just busy. But for some reason it felt like he was somewhere off in the clouds while we were talking. Like he was thinking about other things. Other people.

I know I'm working myself up into a spiral of negative thoughts. Jackson told me he was coming back tomorrow. There's no reason I should feel this anxious with him only being gone a day and a half. I've read enough self-help books to recognize the pattern. I'm positive I need therapy. Between my ailing mom and my nightmare of a dad, professional help is the only way I'll really overcome my messed-up thinking. Jackson made all of that go away, at least for a little while. But I'm wise enough to know he isn't a quick fix for my problems.

Being with him the other day, for the first time so intimate and close, pushed my feelings right to the surface. He told me he loves me. And I love him, too. It's like a dream, feeling this way. The highest of highs when we're together. I felt so safe, so seen. More so than with anyone from my past, including my parents. My mother doesn't have the strength to really be there for me. And my father doesn't have the heart.

But I don't want to think about him.

I rush through my end-of-day routine at work, wiping down equipment and making sure there are enough supplies for our residents. The facility where I work isn't very big. We have less than a hundred beds, with a few that have opened up recently. It's part of this job; getting to know the people living here then eventually watching as they pass away. Over the years I've built up the ability to detach from whatever is happening around me. With Jackson, I never needed to. Even at home with my mom—who I've left alone more and more over the weeks so I can be with Jackson—I've been more open, less detached emotionally from her. Although things have been good lately, so I haven't needed to escape. Her strength seems better, her stamina and energy are good. We're all thriving with Jackson back. It makes me miss him even more knowing all the ways his presence has been a blessing.

I wrap up my duties, say goodbye to the other staff and head home for the night. I had the evening shift today and I'm on schedule for morning shifts over the weekend, so I'll be back in the morning. Whoever made it a thing to schedule someone back to back like this should be fired. I suck it up, though, because the money is decent, and overall this is a good place to work.

I set up my phone on Bluetooth in the car and head home. The drive isn't long, but I'll call mom and let her know I'm on my way. I'm just about to make the call when my phone rings. I don't bother checking the caller ID before answering because I'm positive my mom beat me to it. She knows my schedule and often calls just as I'm heading home. Plus, in the back of my mind I'm hoping its Jackson. He knows my schedule too.

I'm disappointed when the caller speaks, and I realize it's not either of them. It's so much worse.

It's my dad.