Lost in July

XLIX

I scoff. "Nope. Just another loop." I spin my finger in a circle, as if drawing one. "It's all an endless fucking loop of misery," I mumble.

"Life? You feel that life is an endless loop of misery?" Dr. Indy repeats.

I want to smash my head against his diploma covered walls. "Yes. It is."

"Why do you think that?" he asks, leaning back, raising a brow— the picture of intrigue.

I wish I could fully open up to Dr. Indy. Maybe then he'd actually be able to help me, but in the end, most things I say would keep me here for longer than two weeks. Most things would have me on much stronger medication or under 24/7 supervision. It's dark up here, and despite their willingness to ask, I promise no one wants to receive the violent ramblings of my mind.

"I know this won't be what you want to hear," Dr. Indy starts, clearing his throat before continuing. "But the point of life is to experience it all— the evil and the beautiful, even the evil within beauty. All of it is important to our experiences as human's. I know that life can be horrible, more so for people struggling, like you, but it can also be so fulfilling. It can be rewarding and revitalizing. There are so many parts of this world that can heal you when life is beating you down. I promise, Collin."

I listen. I listen to his words and ingest them like it's my last meal. Nothing sticks. It feels impossible to want to live a life where we hold onto the good as if any of it makes up for the bad.

My good days with Margo don't erase the years I spent being abused by my grandma. My happiest day with Grandpa doesn't erase the days I've spent gasping for breath because the anxiety is too much. None of my "best days" are worth the agony I experience every day.

I mumble some bullshit to Dr. Indy. We continue the session this way, Indy's less than inspiring speeches and my lazy replies.

When he finally lets me go I decide that tonight's the tonight.

I eat dinner in the cafeteria, talk to some people, like Bell, Margo's friend, who's still here somehow. I speak to the nurses that have helped me. Nothing deep enough to alarm them, but small talk that will give them a good final memory of me.

This is all so fucked up, I know that, but I can't be selfless anymore. Not when everything hurts like this.

Luckily, Nurse Penny is gone for the night shift, so she won't have to deal with me.

I bother the nurse on shift, asking her to take me to the phone room to make a call to Margo. She hands me some quarters and directs me to the phones with a smile.

I take a seat, inhaling slowly. I grab the phone, reluctantly feeding the machine my quarters and dialing her number. I've memorized it at this point.

"Hello?" She answers, coughing immediately after.

I smile. She's smoking, of course. "Hi. That stuffs bad for you."

"Yeah, yeah," she says lazily. "How are you? I miss you a lot."

"I miss you a lot more." True. I always tell Margo the truth. Well, I did. "I'm good." Lie.

"Are you lying?"

"No." Yes. Help me. I can't be here anymore.

I hear Margo exhale loudly. "You're sure everything's okay? You sound... different."

I swallow. "I'm good. I just missed your voice is all." Lying to her hurts, but it's a small price to pay.

"Oh. I can talk more if you want?" she offers.

"Yes, please. Tell me about your day." She does, and I hang on to every last word. I find myself getting lost in the slight rasp to her voice, the animation in her voice when she gets real into whatever she's talking about.

Why did life have to give me the one thing I couldn't live with out, right when I'm half way out the door?

After our call I finish the letters. Something about therapy flipped a switch in my brain, probably not the right way, but the way I needed. I couldn't make a decision, and now I can.

I'm ready to go. All I can hope for now is that I don't leave a disaster in my shadows.