Drifting

You might cry...

I was dying. Slowly, in secret, with no one to blame but myself, I knew not long that my body would give up – I would give up. The temptation was there, exposed, teasingly gawking back at my face. Rows, upon rows of prescribed medications for all the ailments I claimed to have. Hell, after the death of my son, anyone wanted to help the grieving young mother. I had migraines, the good doctor had medicine. I had chronic muscle pain, the good doctor had medicine. The list goes on. So, there they were, lined up evenly inside my bathroom cabinet in alphabetical order. Bottles of half empty Ambien, Xanax, Valium, and Zoloft. I was like a kid in a candy store. Come one, come all.

A full glass of wine dangled from my fingertips. I sipped conscientiously, tasting the precious toxin linger on my lips long after I'd swallowed. In my other hand, a tiny pill laid in the open on my palm. I didn't even have to look twice. My hand crashed against my mouth, the pill tossed onto my tongue. It only settled there for a moment, even that slight second, its chemical makeup tingled on the surface of my taste buds. A swig of my delicious poison, and it disappeared down into the darkness of my abyss.

I slouched in front of my vanity, wobbling on my three inch heels. The lilac silken robe gaped open at my breasts and a tangled mass of light brown hair hung past my heart shaped face. I barely recognized myself. Dark circles ensued around once vibrant blue eyes, now light grey, dull, and fading away – like me. I gazed at the mirror another moment, still questioning who I had become. The sunken cheekbones, thinned lips, and bloodshot eyes didn't frighten me, neither did dying.

I pushed away from the vanity with my free hand; the other still gripped the glass of red moscato. As I walked across the room to my bed, my ankles promised to give out on me as they struggled to remain as one with my shoes. I fell forward, landing safely on my 1500 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, a wedding gift now soaked in wine. Looked like a bloody massacre. I reached out, grabbing hold a picture frame from the nightstand. Rolling on my back, tears splashed down the sides of my cheeks.

The telephone rang.

And rang...

After much hesitation, or just drunkenness, I rolled over and clicked the button to accept the call.

"Hello?" I sobbed.

The person on the other line sighed loudly. "Sarah, are you drunk again?"

I didn't respond. The only noise that escaped my lips was soft whimpers.

"It has been a year, Sarah. It is time to start moving on!" My ex-husband yelled.

I sat up sluggishly. "You are an asshole!" I slurred. "Still the same old self-centered prick, Will?" Pulsating throbs escalated in both temples.

"Listen," he paused. "I just called because your mother asked me to. For some reason she still thinks we are civil to one another," said Will, exhaling loudly. "After Danny died --"

"You were never there!" I interrupted. "When Danny needed you the most, you were off fucking your secretary!" My body trembled with anger.

A crashing noise sounded through the receiver on Will's end. I could hear him cursing and slamming the phone against a hard surface. It had been since the funeral that I heard him cry. Paining sobs escalated. Even now, the sound of him giving into his emotions willed me to search for him, to embrace him. But I could not, I wasn't even capable of properly soothing myself. Warm tears spilled in waves over my face, soaking into the pillowcase.

"Will?" I called out to him.

He sniffed. "Just say it," said Will with defeat.

I nodded, still gripping the phone tightly to my ear. "Our six year old boy battled his cancer for three years. He was a fighter! Look at us, Will? We are pathetic! Couldn't even hold a marriage together when Danny was alive, and he saw that. He saw it!" I slurred through my words, trying my best to continue.

"Danny died when you and I were at our worst. I discovered you had another woman around the time Danny started chemotherapy. I resented you for that. Couldn't even look you in the eyes…"

"…then, I discovered you still had another woman when he died! It was me who was there holding his hand when he took his last breath. Where were you, Will? I hope it was worth every second," I screamed through a cry.

Will sobbed. "I'm so sorry..."

"It is a real shame that Danny isn't here to forgive you because I never will," I said and ended the call.

The dissolved pill coursed through my veins, travelling within my blood. I felt tranquil and stared up at the rotating fan. Four blades turned into eight. The room had begun to spin. A nauseating feeling overwhelmed me. I gripped the picture frame that lay upon my slowly rising chest. Holding it up into the air, I examined it through half-opened watery eyes.

"Danny," I whispered.

A smiling young boy with bleach blond hair stared back at me. His dimpled cheeks and energetic smile made me chuckle with happiness. The only time I ever felt happy was when I gazed at a picture of Danny. The one photo in particular was at my parent's cottage near the lake. Danny loved the water, he was my little fish. I literally had to drag him from the beach in a fit of screams when it was time to leave. I hadn't visited the lake since his death.

Danny wouldn't want this of me, I thought.

I rubbed at my eyes and pressed both palms against my face. Groaning, I rolled off the bed and laid face first on the carpeted floor. Pounding both fists against the soft surface, I inhaled and pushed myself up onto both knees. I leaned against the bed, reaching over the edge to grab the phone.

I dialed a number I thought I'd never dial again.

"Hello?" A noticeably sad male voice answered.

I exhaled. "It's time, Will. I need a ride to the lake."

"I will be there in an hour," he said and hung up without a fight.

I sat the phone down next to me, still leaning against the bedside. My thoughts wandered back four years. Each memory consumed of Danny being healthy, sick, and then dead. How time passes before our eyes. How much I want to go back and cherish those moments more than I had. But it's too late. I know this now.

Again, I think of the lake, and not because of Danny. I see myself drifting away on calm waters. Before, the waves would be crashing in, daring to drown me. Somehow, even past all the pills and wine, I can see clearly. It was time to heal; I knew that is what Danny would want.

I stared again at the picture of him laughing. "I will see you again someday. Right now, I need to live for both of us."

*****

Three months of sobriety and weekend visits to the lake transformed me for the better. It was my healing spot, a place for me to talk to Danny. Often, Will rode along with me, in hopes to repair our broken relationship. It would never be what it was, nor would it be as bad as it was after our divorce. We were just kids when we married, eighteen, and I was pregnant. It was time to move past all that. We decided that Danny needed us to heal together, so for that, I am grateful. Even now, I know Danny is gone forever here on Earth. But I cannot help feel his presence every time I dare lift a wine glass or take the pills that had haunted me for a year.

I stood barefoot on the edge of the lake. The small ripples of water kissed my toes. Not far down the beach, a family of three splashed in the water. The laughter that exuded from them warmed me as the sun set on the horizon. The couple's child smiled brightly, even at my distance it was hard to miss. I smiled myself, and turned to walk back toward Will, who stood patiently by the car. Before I went, I thought I heard Danny from afar. Turning swiftly, I saw a young boy running up and down the beach, splashing in the water. He was happy. With a flit of my eyes, I gazed back at the darkening lake as the sun slipped away. The boy was gone, but his laughter remained in my heart.