Overwhelmed

empty home

I wish I could just leave without bothering my parents, but my car is still in Florida, so I need a ride to the airport. When I ask my mom to take me, she seems disappointed... probably wishes I had already left. She and my dad put on a whole show of tears and goodbyes when it's time for me to board. I'm sure they'll celebrate later. I was just a burden. Tom would have wanted me here... I wouldn't have to bother them.

Honestly, I don't know why i'm so sure they don't want me here. I guess it's because if I were them, I'd be begging me to leave. The flight attendant comes around and asks if I want anything and although I haven't eaten since the morning of Tom's funeral, the thought of food makes me gag. Needless to say, I decline.

I didn't want to bother Clay since I knew he was planning on streaming today, so I just took an uber home. My house feels so empty still. My heart breaks at the sight of a picture of Tom and I- the first one we brought inside and set up. I go through the entire house and gather his pictures, neatly arranging them into one cardboard box.

After that, I text my coach to let him know I'm back and ready to train. He asks me if I can do three practices a day since I've missed so many. At first, this overwhelms me. I mean, that's a lot of commitment. But I quickly realize that it's my best opportunity to put my emotions into something good, so I agree.

I fall asleep on my couch around noon and only wake up to someone knocking on my door. I'm a mess, but I still answer it. When I open the door, Clay is standing on the other side, a concerned look on his face.

"Hi," I start.

"You didn't tell me you were home! I just saw the lights were on and-" He glances at my state. "God, are you okay?" He wraps his arms around me immediately, but I pull away.

"I'm fine, Clay." He's hurt, I can tell. God, why do I hurt everyone I touch. He doesn't say anything, so we just stand in an awkward silence. "Do you need anything? Can I help you with something or just be here or..." he trails off.

"Thank you I really appreciate it, but I'm doing fine. I just got home a little while ago, so I need to settle in. Weren't you going to stream today?"

"Uh- yeah I finished a while ago. It started at 1."

"Oh. What time is it?"

"6:45." Oh. I guess I slept for a while then. "Do you want to go grab dinner or something?" My stomach churns against my ribs, begging me for food.

"I'm just gonna eat here... you can join if you want." I don't want him to join. I want his to say that he's too hurt. That I'm too broken for him to fix. I want him to leave so that I don't have to keep hurting him. I know it's selfish, but I don't know what else I can do.

But instead of leaving, he looks relieved. "Of course i'll stay. Want to order or make something?" I just shrug and move aside for him to step into my house.

"I dunno what's still good or whatever, so we might just have to order." He shifts through the items in my fridge, occasionally humming a light tune.

"Yeah it's looking like an order in night. Any preference?" Again I shrug, feeling out of place in my own home. I think he notices because he moves onto the couch and motions for me to sit with him. When I do, he wraps an arms around me. This time, instead of pulling away, I lean into him, allowing myself to melt against his chest.

Naturally, his free hand begins stroking my hair, weaving it in and out of little knots. "Do you wanna talk or just relax?" he asks, gently pushing my hair away from my eyes.

"I don't know what to talk about, Clay."

"Tell me how you're feeling."

"I wish I were dead too." At this, he freezes. I try to hide my face further in his sweatshirt, but he lifts my chin up so that I have to look at him.

"No, y/n. You can't wish that. Can you imagine how that would make so many people feel?? We all love you so much. Losing you would be like..." He stops, tears in his eyes. "Like losing my Thomas."

"I'm not your Thomas, Clay. You don't have to pretend anymore. I get it, okay?! You can say what you want! I'm done hurting people!" Now we're both crying. I grow quieter. "If i'm dead, the pain fades away, but every day I live, I hurt people more."

"Where is this even coming from?! You aren't hurting people, moo. We all just want to help. You can't push people away from you just because you think that's what they want. As for me... i'm not pretending, y/n. I want to be here. I want to hold you while you heal. I want to be a motivation to heal. And if that means I need to be the person you get angry at, so be it! Scream at me or punch me or whatever you need to let your emotions out. I'm here for you."

"You don't have to be, Clay. I'll be okay anyway."

"I'm going to stay no matter what you say. You aren't going through this alone." I sigh, again trying to pull out of his arms, but this time he holds me there.

"Let go of me," I demand, pulling harder this time. It's my words, not my strength that results in me standing on my own. "Please go Clay. I have practice in the morning. I'm going to bed."

"It's like seven thirty and you haven't even eaten. I'll leave, but you need to take care of yourself."

"Sure."

"I love you."

I pause. No typo. "Goodnight, Clay."

To be continued...