S A R A

Ch 44

44

I attempted to take a stock of my life, now.

Yes, I was recently fired from my job. Probably what can be considered as for not being like them.

But that's ok. There were few things that seemed important now.

Once something really matters, you are able to zero in on the simplicity and essentials in life.

Love was it.

***

I felt strangely jittersish that evening. I was still slightly tired from the weekend, and in an attempt to take the edge of I opened a beer and tried to sit on the balcony, but the traffic only worsened my headache. I went back inside and felt a strange sense of imbalance. I couldn't understand why, if everything seemed to have been figured out now.

Was it?

I checked my email only to find a new bill. But logging into my bank account, I realized that the price for trying to live somewhat indpendetly in a major American city was portably higher than I have accounted for, because ever since I stopped working, I was going in a steady and steep financial decline. Maybe it should have been a surprise, maybe not, but my banks account balance was $600 in total. The lowest it has ever been since I was probably 16.

I went to get ready for bed, and while looking in the mirror just before brushing my teeth, I paused.

I felt that I did not recognize myself anymore. It's like I was looking into my eyes, and there was absolutely nothing familiar behind them that I could grasp on to.

A strange sense of disassociation took over me and it felt that just as soon as my world took shape, it shattered into a million pieces all over again.

I had a vision then, as if this whole love affair was insurmountable. That my loneliness was all consuming. That his life is something I wanted to be part of and yet would never be able to touch.

------------------------------------------

She asks me what I remember. I say it's not that simple.

"Why?" she asks again, as if the answer was right there and I just had to say it.

But it wasn't.

I remember getting up unsteadily to ask for water on the train.

Tossing, turning before that. I remember a lightning storm.

"I remember knowing that I had to leave and I had to do it now."

"And what might have, prompted that?"

I look behind me, to see my dad sitting in the waiting room.

"Anxiety." I turn back to look at her.

She takes a note on her notepad.

"It's, very physical for me," I continue.

"Uh-huh," she keeps on writing.

Its hard to tell how long I have been sitting there.

It was hard to tell time anymore ever since the rupture happened.

That's what I'll call it.

My parents, picking me up at the station.

Me, turning away and crying of shame.

Me, in the kitchen – practically unannounced save for the night before – trying to explain a truth that I have already lost grasp on.

Nothing matters.

My mother, afraid. My father, angry.

There are things in life, you tell yourself will never happen to you.

I will never go to jail. I will never cheat. I will never steal.

I will never fall in love with a Rockstar.

But when they do happen, it is almost so natural that you let it.

I will never go crazy.

My dad, gently suggesting that we call this number, but only if I want to.

Or maybe its because you lost control a long time ago, and the only way to stop this train was to crash it.

"Yes, call it."

Me, turning up to a waiting room full of drug addicts and homeless people, looking terribly out of place in my moderately priced coat, waiting to be attended to at a Mental Health Services facility.

Begging my parents to not let me be put away anywhere, for God's sake.

It never got that far.

But it got far enough.

Zopiclone. Little blue sleeping pills.

Setraline. Yellow and red capsules.

Maybe Haden knew what he was doing, taking a little orange pill every now and then to get away from it.

But you can't outrun your pain, no matter how hard you try.

Haden.

-

These California days were not what dreams were made of.

These California days were blurry. The nights sleepless.

These California days were not really days at all but a trial.

He wrote to me during that time then, a few days after I came home.

How are you? Just left a friend's party.

I stared at the phone for 2 minutes and then left it on my bedroom floor for the day.

I replied the next evening.

Home with family.

He replied right away.

Nice! I'm going to Mexico soon.

He had no idea, is what I found most comical in this situation. And I had no inclination to tell him. I couldn't give him that much power. Not anymore.

Nice break from LA.

He messaged me again, eventually after his trip.

You back?

Nope. How was Mexico?

Amazing

He messaged me the next day

Did you move?? Is everything okay

I left my phone for 2 days this time.

I'm not sure yet, things are up in the air. - It's like the funny thing was that this was in my own control and yet I couldn't control it.

What are you doing for your birthday?

Oh, he remembered. I even forgot. Absolutely nothing.

Probably still going to be here...

Why was I doing this? I didn't have an answer except that I could no longer pretend.

He messaged me one last time until he probably thought that I totally hated him. I just hoped he would know that I always loved him.

I unfollowed him on Instagram.

Then I deleted his number.