Tragedy

Tragedy:38:

*Justin*
Rehab Day 5:
3:38 PM

I was finally starting to feel normal - you know - not sick.

I've made a couple of friends too. Gina wasn't so bad now that I wasn't irritable 24/7, and honestly, she's been really helpful with most of this Bella stuff.

The more I learned her though - Gina - the more I picked upon some of Bella's tendencies, and I was kind of mentally beating myself up about it. With every passing moment, it began to feel more and more like Bella's problems were my fault - that I could have helped her more than I did.

Doctors literally told her while she was in the hospital last year that she was underweight. I certainly haven't helped with her stress levels. I've been extremely selfish. She stopped talking to me, she started locking herself in a room to do yoga because I was stressing her out, and I still can't imagine half of the things I said to her while I was drunk.

I probably said some awful things. I know I did. I'm a mean drunk.

"Hey, Justin?" Brent, one of the people in charge around here came and knocked on my door where I sat on my bed reading one of the books of Bella's I had taken from home. He glanced at it, my hand quickly going to cover the title before he continued on.

It was one of her romance books...I just grabbed from her shelf and didn't check...but it was keeping me entertained.

"You have a package." Then he handed me a box, my eyebrows pulling together in confusion until I saw the familiar handwriting on the top. "I can open it for you now if you want - just cut through the top I mean. We can't give you guys anything sharp because-"

"Yeah, I got it." I said, brushing what he said off with my hand. "No problem, but yeah, can you just cut the top open for me?"

"Sure." He nodded, smiling at me and sat it on my bed before he cut the top open. "Don't forget about your therapy session in 20."

"Yeah, I got it. Thanks, Brent."

"No problem."

I waited until he walked away before I got up and shut my door, brushing my fingers over Bella's handwriting that had my name scrawled on the top of the box before I opened it up.

The first thing I noticed was a giant bag of sour patch kids, and then a bag of Takis.

"Yes!" I grinned, picking up the bags and continued to dig through the box.

I paused when I saw a white piece of paper tucked into the side, setting the bags aside and nervously picked it up.

It could say anything.

'Happy break up package. Good luck with your life.'

'Sorry I left you at the airport like that. Can't wait to talk to you.'

And the anger that I had been trying to get rid of for the past five days rushed back into my system.

She just left. When she knew I would be in this place alone for a month. When she knew I couldn't talk to her for at least a week - when I had to go through all of this shit without her. Let's just pass Justin on to the next person and hope they fix him.

But I opened the piece of paper, my body freezing when I saw her familiar girlish scrawl again along the page, all the anger I had leaving momentarily.

I miss you. Can't wait to talk to you and I hope this lifts your spirits.
We love you.
Love, your buttercup and buttercup jr.