Going Nowhere

October 25, 2015

 

My throat closes up. “Right now?”

 

“First flight out,” He nods.

 

I knew LAX. As soon as he stepped in the airport there would be a flight boarding to New York. He wasn’t kidding.

 

“Please don’t.” I shook my head. I couldn’t let him leave. I was the one that was supposed to leave. I was the narcissistic one that left. He wasn’t supposed to do this.

 

We were going to have tomorrow. At the airport we would have kissed goodbye and that would have been when he left. He wasn’t leaving now.

 

“Michael,” I choke, stepping forward to place my arms around his torso. He shrugs me off, turning away. “Michael.”

 

He turns to me, looking right at me as I tear up. His expression was emotionless now. I knew it couldn’t work though. What was he supposed to do? Invite me to go on tour with him? I already promise Callie and Emma. Invite me to New York with him? Get in more trouble with management? The paparazzi thought we had been dating before, what would they think now? They would eat him alive.

 

“What am I supposed to do now?” I shrug, my hands reaching for something I couldn’t grasp.

 

Looking down, he plays with the string of his bag. “What do you think I did?”

 

I cover my mouth with my hand, tears falling down my cheeks now. All the air had been sucked from my lungs. I hated crying. I hated it so much. The fact that he made me cry so easily killed me. I turned away from him, squeezing my eyes shut and beginning the choking noises I always made when crying.

 

Why in the hell did I do that to him? How could I hurt him like that? How could he do this to me?

 

“Go” I choke out. “Get out. Get away from me.”

 

The choking sounds continue, growing louder and more obnoxious. I strangle the sounds against my hands, hoping to muffle them. It doesn’t help at all. Instead I hear Callie calling my name from down the hall. She must be coming to check on me.

 

“Please,” I beg. “Go.”

 

Footsteps shuffle across the floor. The floorboards don’t creak like they did at my apartment. The door opens and I hear Callie coming closer. All sounds are muffled by my sobs.

 

“Anna?” The weight across the floor shifts and Callie sits on my bed behind me. She hesitates for a moment before wrapping her arms around my torso. “What happened?”

 

I choke a few times before I tell her that he left. She jumps off the bed and I hear her pound down the hall. A door slams and then the house goes silent.

 

***

 

My ceiling is so blank. The ceiling that I have decided to claim ownership of during my stay is ironically blank. It’s washed, as I feel. It’s washed white, blank of emotion, feeling. All it is is numbing. That is all I am.

 

I roll over, taking the bottle at my bedside and sipping at it again. That’s the only reason I’ve left my bed all day. Every time I leave the kitchen with another bottle I pass Callie’s room. She sighs, telling me I shouldn’t be drinking. She doesn’t stop me though.

 

She asks if I want to talk about it yet, I shake my head and continue on. I’m pretty sure she has told Emma and Soph that something happened, but even she doesn’t know what yet. She will.

 

“You texted?” She inquires as she open the door. Callie comes and sit next to me in bed. After a moment, she reconsiders, sprawling out next to me. “What’s wrong munchkin?”

 

I swallow down another sip and lean back next to her. “He left.”

 

“Did he say why?”

 

“Nope. He just left.” I consider a minute before explaining. “I think it was his management. He got a call, then he just started acting… cold. He wouldn’t tell me what was going on. He was just on the next flight out.”

 

“I’m sorry babe.” She leans on my shoulder like Michael had. “Guys are assholes.”

 

“The really are.” I conclude.

 

She waits a minute before continuing. “If it makes you feel any better, I saw him on his way out-” My throat closes up again. “I punched him in the jaw.”

 

I chuckle while she laughs. “Good.” I couldn’t help but feel bad.

 

After she laughs it off, she lets out even more information. “He looked like he was about to cry.”

 

I want to think it was because it hurt him to leave, but I knew better. I would probably cry too if Callie punched me. I don’t think she would ever consider punching me though. Only stupid boys.

 

“If it’s okay,” I swallow. “I just want to be alone for a while.”

 

“Okay,” She agrees, nervous about leaving me alone anyway. “I love you, peaches. If you need me I’m right down the hall.”

 

She slides off the bed and out of the room, shutting the door behind her. When she’s gone, I turn on my stereo, blasting my music incredibly loud. I hope it drowns out the sound of my crying.