memento mori

16: this sinking feeling

OPAL

Sunday arrives, sleepy and sad and dragging its feet.

I'm not quite ready for this weekend to end and give way to the next week, every break feeling like not quite enough time.

I'm so tired I consider going back to sleep at ten and sleeping away the rest of my day, maybe even Monday too. I don't, though.

I sit at the kitchen table, a bowl of cereal set before me. I push around the corn flakes with my spoon, unsure exactly when I stopped eating but knowing I haven't got much of an appetite.

I'm all alone in the house this morning, every other member of my family having hang out plans or being productive in some way or another. Everyone except for me, the failure.

There's this lump in my throat that hasn't gone away for a few days, a weight heavy on my chest. I tried to throw away my cigarettes the other night, afraid I'd become too dependent, but within an hour I had them back in my hands and the smoke back to destroying me from the inside out. 

I did this to myself, though, didn't I? I've dug myself into all my own holes with no foreseeable way to get myself out.

Now, sitting alone with my sinking feeling, I call Liv.

"Hey!" She greets, sounding rather bubbly.

A wobbly grin finds my face, her joy seemingly feeding mine at the same time. I can't remember the last time I was so happy that my joy did that, spread outward. I wonder if I've ever even had so much joy at all.

"Hi." My voice falls flat. "Got any plans for today?"

"I don't think so. I went out yesterday, so maybe I got all my energy out then." Everything she says comes out so joyous, and I wonder what's changed. I bet it's the lack of me, though. She doesn't have to handle my weight in her life dragging her down, opening her time up to spend with herself.

I feel her there. I've been feeling so heavy walking around with myself lately, bags under my eyes only getting darker by the day.

I push my spoon around so that it clinks against the edges of the bowl.

"Are you okay?" She asks, her voice lilting so I imagine her tipping her head slightly to the right too.

"Yeah. All good!" The lie bleeds through clear as day, but neither of us seem intent on saying anything about it. It's so much easier that way, even though it starts to ache more and more as time progresses.

I start wishing she would ask me if I wanted to do something today, or I wish I had the nerve to ask her. My stomach churns, though, and so I bite my tongue and keep quiet. I always keep quiet even when the words feel like they are clawing at my throat, just waiting to be set free.

Mainly, my brain just wanders. I think of Liv— how strained things feel between us, how much I wish I could make things right. My mind wanders to cigarettes, to alcohol, to parties so loud they drown out the static in my brain. My mind wanders to everything and nothing.

"Hey, Liv?" I find myself asking. I almost can't recall if we ever were speaking on the phone today but a wave of relief washes over me when she answers.

"Yes, Opal?"

"I really do like you, and I need you to know that. I don't regret kissing you or going out with you. I want to do all those things again if given the chance. But I do regret how I've been treating you, how I've been acting, how everything has been lately. You just seem to be doing so much better than me and I simply can't pull myself together." Everything spills out in one giant mess, and I am cracking, ripping apart at the seams.

"I really like you too." A heavy exhale falls like a weight. "And you don't have to apologize. I haven't been doing all that great either, believe it or not."

That's when we both start to laugh.

••••

I wake up in my bed, feeling disoriented. There's noise coming from down the hall, the television playing some program. My heartbeat rapidly increases. No light comes through my windows anymore, and when I glance over at the clock, it's 8:13.

I try to piece together my day, but it proves to be too much of a headache, so I give up. Groaning and rolling over, I close my eyes again. However, the second I pull my blanket up over my head, I can feel that I won't be falling back asleep. At least not any time soon.

I pat around, trying to find my phone buried under my blankets or pillow. And when I do find it, it's not even on my bed. Instead, there it is lying face down on the carpet.

When the screen comes to life, light stabbing my eyeballs immediately, I see a text. At first, I don't even try to grasp who it's from.

liv! : party tonight. want to go with me?

I rub my eyes, read it again, feel my heart simultaneously soar and sink.

oPaL: yeah, sure

oPaL: are you driving or am i ;)

liv! : considering you can't drive, i'll pick you up at 8:45

I let out a breathy laugh, but it doesn't last long, and it doesn't amount to much.

Then I throw on some clothes, do up my hair into the most pulled-together look I can manage, and add some makeup on top. I have to admit, I don't look so awful.

"Hey, mom. Hey, dad. I'm going out." I'm hoping I can just slip by without having to handle a conversation, and they would just continue to watch the tv. Instead, mom is standing in front of me in what feels like mere seconds.

"Where do you think you're going, missy?"

"Please don't call me missy," I spit. "I told you before. I don't like it."

"Where are you going?" She repeats. I stare her dead in the eye, unblinking.

"Out." Comes my blunt one-word response. I make my first attempt to get past, but she steps into my path, and I bump into her shoulder. I grit my teeth.

"Out where?" I'll give it to her; she's got a good amount of venom in her. No doubt that's where I got mine from. It's certainly not from dad, who barely speaks to me anymore since he found out I was queer.

"None of your business." I wonder how long I can skate around the actual answer, how long before I either get out the front door or walk back to my room and slam that door.

"Out where?" Dad asks, standing up and turning to face me too.

"Since when do you guys care what I do? I could be out all night and I doubt you'd even notice." I make my second attempt to get past them, expecting the worst since it never works on the second try. Somehow, though, this time it does.

I think maybe I struck a nerve, feeling a pang in my heart. But then they are still my parents, and they still treat me like crap, and my emotions come crashing at each other like they are fighting a war.

I have my hand on the doorknob, beginning to turn it, when dad's voice rises to the air.

"We do care about you, Opal." 

I look back, meet his eyes. There's something buried in them, something I can't name nor place.

"I'll be back before midnight," I mumble. It's odd to hear those words coming out of my mouth, and to my parents no less.

Then I slip out the door, and there's Liv smiling at me from her car.

I get in the passenger side. "Hi."

"Hey!" She replies. And then we're off into the night.