beau.
I miss her soft, careful touch. How her fingers would graze my skin with such delicacy. As if I'd break under her touch.
Another swig of alcohol. I'm doing what I always told her not to do. Drowning my sorrows in whiskey so the pain of losing something, or rather someone, subsides. I guess I just never thought I'd be here in my bedroom, half a bottle of whiskey gone, numbing the pain that comes with losing her. Being so wrapped up in the feeling of being in love with her just didn't allow me to see the chance of ever losing her.
I miss her vanilla scent. Every inhale I took with my nose buried deep into her golden strands of hair felt like home.
She was right about something at least. Jo may not have been perfect, but she could see things for what they were. As long as the harsh reality was outside of her, everything else she had down to a T. I was never in any superior position to deem her drinking a problem. The fuck did I think I was? A shitty excuse for a therapist at best. Who was I to call her out on her issues when I still had mine? It isn't until now that they arise with a vengeance. Without my moonlight here to brighten up all the corners of my mind, I'm left with the dark parts I let myself forget about because I haven't become familiar with them in a long time. It's been a long time coming, this downward spiral. Should have known I relied too much on the pillar of light in my life to keep me from going insane.
I miss listening to her angelic voice as she talked to me about all the things she was passionate about. Books, movies, her friends.
Months ago, I didn't think this girl would have left such a lasting mark on my life. I could have done with or without her at one point, which is incomprehensible to me looking back on it from where I've found myself today. Jo became my life. Like a moth drawn to a flame, I naturally gravitated to her. Immersed myself in every aspect of her life, whether it was insignificant little things like laughing at her as she struggled with getting the fitted sheet on her bed or the things that encased more meaning than that, like talking to her every night before she fell asleep. With her gone, there was this huge empty space. Before, she'd take up every second of every waking day. When we weren't awake, she'd find her way into my dreams. Since I broke up with her, I've had too much fucking time on my hands and nothing to do with it that even remotely compared to filling that time with her.
I miss her kisses. The unmistakable way her silky lips mold to mine. Her kisses were like a touch of heaven, a peek through heaven's gates when she brushed her lips across my skin.
I broke up with her. At the moment it felt like the right thing to do. I was at my complete end. Hanging on by a measly thread, awaiting my downfall. Little did I anticipate my biggest downfall to being a life without her. I knew it would hurt, breaking things off with the girl I love more than anything, but I didn't think it'd hurt this bad. I've only eaten the things Sophie practically force-feeds me. Outside of that, I've barely managed to keep anything down. Most of my days are spent sleeping and when I'm not doing that I'm tending to my trusty bottle of alcohol.
The irony about this whole thing isn't lost on me whatsoever. All the months we've been together, my number one fear was that she'd be the one breaking up with me. Never the other way around. I thought that one day she'd wake up from this dream world of ours and realize she deserves someone better. A nice, simplistic man who didn't need fixing. Who she would never feel the need to hide from her friends and family. I thought she'd come to the realization that I could never be fixed and that she'd give up on me at a moment's notice. She never had to put up with my shit, yet she did because deep down she was always a selfless person. That trait just wasn't very apparent in the last month or so of our relationship.
Never in a million light-years did I think I'd be the one to cut things off. I was extremely lucky and grateful to have someone like her in my life. She saved me, whether she'll take credit for that or not. I know she wouldn't, she's humble in that way. She'd tell me something along the lines of "I can't take all the blame for that. You never had to change for me and yet you did. It was all you, baby, I merely saw you through it." Wherever we were, in whatever position we would be laying in, I'd lift my eyes to hers. Absorbing the captivating blue-gray while I told her "You do so much for me, more than you know. You turned me into the person I am today, it's my turn to spend our years together trying to repay you for that." She would hush me with a kiss because she knew how much I hated getting sappy. I'd blanket myself with the gentleness of her touch that I miss the fuck out of.
To think we had years together...we sat down, had countless conversations about our future. Only for it all to come crashing down because of my rash decision to break up with her instead of seeing things through. I don't have the blessing of hope that we can find our way back to each other from her. I don't know if she can ever forgive me for breaking her heart. I did it once and I was already running on thin ice then. The sheet that was barely holding us above water snapped underneath our feet. We were running too fast and laughing too hard to recognize the cracks we'd left in our path. Until it was too late. Then the ice snapped from beneath our feet and tore us apart.
We're drowning in freezing cold water.
I should have at least tried to work some things out with her. The lying problem could have been an easy fix but now I'll never know. She never cheated on me and I knew that at the back of my mind, but I was too angry to force myself to see things from a reasonable angle. It was easier to see what I wanted to see than step back to take in the whole complex picture. Her problem with alcohol wasn't as bad as it had been weeks before. As long as I was beside her, putting silence to her mind, she didn't need any of that shit. All I had to do was be with her in some kind of way. I should have talked things through with her instead of breaking her apart in an argument before sending her off.
That was possibly the worst thing I could have done to her. Instead of calling it quits right away, I had to drag out our pain. Make us suffer in more torment than what was necessary. With my anger taking the reins, I was blinded to how truly cruel I was towards her in our final moments together. I triggered a memory in her troubled mind when I was speeding with her right beside me. I heard her distinct pleas, out of the corner of my eye I saw that terrified look crossing her face and I ignored it. Being vindictive and in rage does not excuse doing that to her. She relies on me to make her feel safe and I turned around and did the complete opposite.
It should have stopped there, but it didn't. Our anger at one another fueled into charged lust and that's already a bad concoction in and of itself. I kissed her to forget about the pain she'd caused me by feeding me another lie. I fucked her only to poorly attempt losing my anger within the pleasure. Obviously, that didn't work out because I used her. God, that feels sick to even think about. I let myself have an orgasm before leaving her on the counter without satisfying her. I've never done that to any of the girls I've slept with so why the hell was I inclined to do that to the girl I love? I very blatantly used her and didn't feel sorry about it until the last time she walked out of my bedroom. It was the last time we ever had sex and I forever tainted that memory by treating her like the girls before her, fucking her for pleasure and disgustingly, nothing more. The last time is always the one she's gonna remember the most.
And to finally top off the shit show of our fucked up day, I said things I shouldn't have. I impaled a knife in her and twisted it further than I should have let it go. Our last conversation was cold, heartless, and worst of all, spiteful. More so on my end which is bad enough, but she also had some traces of ruthlessness in her voice that was only there because of the way I came at her. I said my fair share of unspeakable things to her, almost all of them I didn't even mean, I just wanted to make her cry. I wanted to cause my girl pain in those final moments. Seeing the tears filling her eyes brought me more satisfaction than I'd ever like to admit. To myself or anybody. I love her. I don't want to hurt her. Or be the reason for her tears. I want to see her smile again. I want her in my arms again. She's the very reason I put an end to my bad habits.
So how could I excuse my desire to hurt her?
She lied to me. She manipulated me. She fucking took advantage of my forgiveness when it came to those things. I should be angry, furious even, but I'm not. If anything, the only thing I've done in this last week without her is beat myself up over not having her here with me. I want her back. I would have her here if I didn't allow spite to loom over me. I would have her here if I didn't know any better.
Hell, maybe ignorance is truly bliss.
These past few days have been hard in the simplest of terms. The first day was spent mostly in my bed sleeping to avoid the incessant need I had to call her. I was too afraid to see her at school, too nervous to sit beside her in class and not dote over her the way I'm used to. Nervous...I didn't think such a thing existed within me. I couldn't place the feeling at first. That fluttery feeling in the pit of my stomach when I left for school on the third day I had mistaken for just another sliver of false hope. That maybe I'd see her from across the hallway and everything will be as it was. But that fluttery sensation made me want to throw up the second I stepped into psych class. My palms were sweaty as hell. My mind was just running and running, thinking about what I'd do when she was to walk in. My knee was bouncing uncontrollably under the table. Reminded me of how many times Jo had done the exact same thing and I placed my hand over her thigh to calm her anxious shaking. I tried to do the same to myself, but as expected, it didn't work. All of that only to find out she hadn't come to school that day.
Or any day for that matter. I started looking out for her the two days after that. Searching for her in the random spots we'd meet up to walk each other to class or make out for a bit. I knew where all of her classes were, so like the creepy fucker I am, I'd excuse myself from class a few minutes earlier than the bell would ring so I could hope I'd catch a glimpse of her, but I didn't. Fortunately so because even if I had seen her, what would I have done? Not moving a muscle. Just stood there like that stalker kid from one of the TV shows she made me watch last month. I surely couldn't have approached her with all the guilt weighing on my heart.
I'd come to figure out she hadn't been at school for the rest of the week. That got me thinking about what she could be doing in all that spare time, keeping my mind on her longer than what would do me any good. Nothing I did could keep my mind from wandering back to her. I tried fulfilling that desperate need to force her out of my head in healthier ways. Leading by example as if she were still watching over my every move. I tried working out. I tried putting my mind to my academics. Fuck I even tried journaling for a day and that ended before I even got my pencil down to the paper. Nothing worked as well as alcohol. One thing led to another, I was consumed by thoughts. Unable to stop fucking crying to save my life every time I thought about how much I'd lost in letting her slip through my fingers. Before I could stop myself I was grabbing a bottle by the neck and popping it open on the third day.
By the next day, I'd drank the last half of that bottle during the night and went to school hungover as shit, but it wasn't something I hadn't done before. I looked for Jo, saw she wasn't there, went to practice, got home. Like a routine. When I went to the liquor cabinet to grab a bottle of anything I could get my hands on, I came across a dry surprise. There was no liquor in the liquor cabinet, the shittiest joke the universe could pull out of its ass. Considering I live in the same house as an avid alcoholic, not having liquor at my disposal was ironic.
I had to put my fake ID to use for the first time in months. It would have been easier to drive down to the nearest convenience shop and get what I needed there, but Sophie was getting suspicious of me being cooped up in my room so often so I had to leave her under the impression that I was 'getting out'. I lied to her, told her that I was going out with Luke and some of his friends since it was a Friday night. What actually ended up happening was me at a decent bar. I wasn't looking for anything high-end or too loud for my tastes. I just wanted something to fucking drink. So I found myself outside of the same bar I went to for my cousin's birthday party a few months ago. The same one I took Jo to when we were still 'talking'. I parked my car in the same spot for memory's sake and temporarily made myself forget about all those memories with numerous shots in an unbothered corner.
Drinking alone. That's where I was Friday night. With no one there to tell me otherwise, especially not Jo.
I had enough to drink to be buzzed, but not drunk. I still had to drive home after this, so I had to regulate my intake just enough to keep me under the legal limit. I sure as hell wasn't making the rookie mistake of drinking on an empty stomach, despite my lack of appetite. I ate, well, more like forced myself to eat an overcooked burger the bar served and a side of fries. It wasn't a chart-topping meal, but that place had never been advertised for their 'cuisine-like dining'. I stayed relatively buzzed throughout the entire night, not indulging in a shit ton of alcohol only taking enough to get my mind off her.
It worked, for a while anyway. I was comfortable watching everyone drunk off their asses, sloppily dancing on the dance floor, coming and going as they pleased. Some random chick came up to me at some point, which took me by surprise because I did not look inviting at all alone at the corner of the bar. I purposely sat there so no one would come up to me, but I guess some girls like that shit? I have no fucking clue.
She started chatting me up. She filled most of the so-called conversation with her nasally voice, not noticing that I was carelessly nodding along and uninterested. I couldn't really say if she was attractive or not because I didn't pay much attention to her face, or rather her in general. I forgot what she looked like, what her name was, what the hell she was even going on about...I could only focus on her mannerisms. She was confident, I remember that. Her raven black hair blended into the dim, if any, light of the bar. Her nails were a deep red, almost burgundy, and unnaturally long as she tapped them against the glass countertop. The sheer black top she was wearing was cut low and her ass was practically hanging out of her shorts. She'd probably be the kind of girl I took home for the night. She had everything I used to look for in a one-night-stand.
But I didn't go looking for a one-night stand. I couldn't even imagine myself fucking anyone who wasn't Jo and I didn't want to. Going back to meaningless one-night stands after experiencing the high that is having sex with someone you genuinely care about is a huge step back. Burying myself into another person isn't going to solve my shit, I know that now. No other woman's legs would feel the same wrapped around my waist like Jo's. No one could touch me the way that she did, knowing exactly when to pierce her nails into my skin before soothing it with the light caresses of her fingertips. Jo was unique in the way she molded herself against me, allowed me for a fleeting moment in time to hold me under her skin and sink our claims into one another. No one else could carry her feminine yet sultry aroma that still remains in between my sheets and forever lingers in my mind. I didn't want anyone but Jo and I didn't feel like giving anyone the impression that I did. Eventually, that girl got the hint and moved her interests on to the bartender.
It was then that I'd decided to book it out of there. Having an encounter like that made me feel like shit. Even though Jo and I weren't together and there's no fine line of when or if we'd be back together, I still didn't feel right flirting with anybody else. I wanted to flirt with her. Make her cheeks blush when I whisper something vulgar in her ear. Grimace when she swatted at me in reprimand. Touch her in places that would make her go crazy. Being that way with someone else, or thinking about it anyway, made bile rise to my throat. I'd feel as if I were betraying her if I'm ever with anybody else. Betraying the promises I made to her. Betraying the love we were so sure could get us over any obstacle life threw at us. Betraying our memories, our intimacy, our aftercare. Tainting them beyond all else.
After I downed the rest of my drink, I was quick to get out of that bar. As I headed out to the main exit, my steps halted. On my way out, I saw her.
Or at least I thought I did.
~
I slide my final tip across to the bartender and leave it there in hopes he'll come across it before someone else does. In all honesty, I could care less, I only want to get the fuck out of here and fast. The guilt was barrelling in fast. Being in this sweaty place did nothing but amplify that guilt.
As I approach the sweet sight of an exit, a sight of a short blonde standing in the midst of a crowd stops me. It couldn't possibly be...
She tilts her head back, still not giving me a view of her face, but the action has this odd familiar air to it. Like an energy you can't describe. Her laugh matches hers perfectly, lighthearted and airy.
Why the hell would Jo be here? I know she doesn't owe it to me or anything like that to stay far away from these places. I look just as bad, I have no room to be judging. If this is how she's chosen to cope with everything, I have no say so. One, I'm no longer her boyfriend, but only an ex. And I'm doing the same thing she's doing now. At the same bar, drinking the same problems away, feeling the same pain. I'm no better than her. She's not mine to worry about anymore.
But knowing that doesn't stop me from attempting to rush up to her. That faceless blonde. My mind is grieving, could very well be pulling cruel tricks on me. That possibility doesn't stop me from taking steps toward this girl. The only thing that's driving my pace is my rapidly beating heart. Desperately avoiding all else in order to get to her. If it is her, what would I do? What the hell could I even say? I broke her heart, the last thing she needs is me coming up to her when she's obviously doing better now, or at least trying to put in the effort. That's a lot more than I can say for myself. What right do I have to her? Nothing.
I'm the reason she's drinking again. I'm the reason she has pain in need of torpefying.
I continue towards the girl until she's right in front of me. Before I have the chance to gingerly nudge her shoulder, she recognizes me through her peripheral vision and turns to look up at me from under the dim bar light.
It doesn't take long for me to realize it isn't my girl. I'm staring blankly into green eyes rather than blue-gray ones. And here I thought I could spot my love in the biggest sea of a crowd.
"Sorry," I mutter, backing away, "Thought you were someone else."
My determination to get out of that bar became more feverish than ever. I rushed out of the exit, a few seconds tops, and went in search of my car. All I know is that it's somewhere near the back and it's fairly easy to pick out a BMW in a sea of Toyotas and Hondas. But my vision was blurred, not with the influence of alcohol, but tears that'd arisen in the short amount of time it took to realize the girl in the bar was not mine.
Pathetic.
When I was finally able to use my remote to the car to flash the headlights I ran right for it. The first thing I should have done was drive back to my house. It was near midnight and Sophie would start getting on my ass soon cause I told her I'd be home an hour ago. But it wasn't until I looked up and realized I couldn't see shit because my tears were blocking my view.
~
The only thing that kept me from spiraling this last week was Sophie. I didn't talk to her about anything that happened and I tried not to let my emotions get the best of me whenever she was around, but it was obvious that she still wanted to play a big role in my life. She made it obvious in ways that wouldn't overwhelm me or make her seem overbearing. Like bringing dinner up to my room for me and other snacks while I was doing my homework. I knew Katie was making them all. Sophie can't cook for shit and if she tried, the whole house would catch on fire in a matter of seconds. But everything could have been brought up to me at a moment's notice by some other staff member, yet Sophie wanted it to be her. I'm sure she did it out of the kindness in her heart, there's an abundance of that, but I'm also pretty sure that there's that nosy part of her nagging to get some info on what happened between me and Jo that day. Up until yesterday, their only forms of communication had been through text and knowing Jo if she struggles pouring her heart out in person, pouring her heart out over text is a completely different obstacle. Sophie has the general gist of why that break-up happened, she aided Jo in lying to me about Jake after all, but she was confused to see us hashing it out for the last time.
As Jo walked out of my life for good, Sophie came bounding in right after her. Demanding to know what happened, I couldn't give her a definitive answer. We broke up. I practically shouted it at Jo at the tops of my lungs, how much clearer could it get than that? But Sophie wanted to know what led up to that. In her eyes, lying to me about Jake was a small thing that should not have warranted a break-up. If that were actually the case, I would have been pissed and maybe wanted some space, but it wouldn't have led to an entire break-up. What destroyed our relationship was the lack of trust we had for one another. She was a liar and a manipulator. I was her eager little bitch. How could I even begin to explain that to my little sister, who is still Jo's best friend?
I didn't want to rip Jo's best friend away. She needs her right now. The burst of bright energy that Sophie carries with her is the thing Jo needs to pull her out of whatever dark state she's in. I couldn't just take that away from her by telling Sophie her role in all of this. I'm not all without fault either so the best thing was leaving Sophie in the dark about the whole thing. Outside of when she found us after our fight, she hasn't asked me to talk to her about Jo.
She's complacent with my letting her be there for me, even in the smallest of ways.
While she's here for me, she has to be there for her best friend as well. Which sort of puts her in a difficult position. Another reason why I haven't gone off the rails yet is because she's like Jo's watchful eye over me. When she went over to Jo's house yesterday I just had this gut feeling that Jo asked about me. I did end up asking about her too when Sophie got back, but I'm honestly just glad Sophie didn't have any drastically bad things to tell Jo. I didn't want her to beat herself up in any way. She may be at fault for this and be reserved to some guilt but not as much hell as her mind's going to give her. Jo always gave herself such a hard time without even meaning to. That's how her brain was wired, to make her feel bad about every move she makes, every time she disappoints somebody. She disappointed me and I know that's enough to send her into a downward spiral. Yet I didn't want her to burden herself with my pain either. If she knew I was somewhat using alcohol to wash the thought of her away for a couple of hours at a time, she'd take on that weight on her fragile body and blame herself for it.
I know I did when Sophie told me about how Jo was handling things.
~
"Hey, shithead," Sophie happily chirps as she comes in with two plates of food on either hand. It's a Saturday night and my dad has a few associates over downstairs, meaning Katie went all out on this meal. My lack of appetite recently hasn't allowed me to finish a proper meal, but the way these baked potatoes are looking, I might head down for seconds.
Nevermind, my dad's here for once. Fuck that, I'm not going downstairs anytime soon.
"Hey, rat shit," I mutter. Tossing my math homework aside to reach out for the plate and put it on the corner of my desk closest to me. Ever since Sophie started bringing my dinners up to my room, she hasn't sat down with me once. She'll either go back downstairs to enjoy the meal with our mom or retreat back to her room. Today she makes herself comfortable on my cushioned desk chair and sets her hot plate of food in front of her.
She takes a few green beans off her plate and stuffs them into her mouth. I waste absolutely no time digging into the cheese and sour cream covered potato only to yelp when my fingers touch the burning hot foil. "It's fresh," my sister laughs at my expense.
"Yeah, fresh out of Satan's asshole," I scoff, shaking my hand that got most of the heat damage. I figure to save that for a bit and focus on my greens first while I let the baked potato from hell cool off.
"Figured you could use the company," she sighs, hugging her flannel over herself tighter, "You're always eating alone, you grouch."
I take a little bean from the bunch and flick it at her. It hits her in the eye and she insists she's going to make me pay for it. Not my fault I've got damn good accuracy. "Sometimes you just need the time to think," I murmur, glancing off to wherever my eyes land first. They dart to the fairly large crack in my bathroom door from when I broke it down to get to Jo.
When I could have just asked her to open it. Fuck, the amount of shit I've put her through. The thing about when everything ends, it gives you too much time to look back on what once was. And now I know we were terrible to each other. A lot of the shit I did to her was unnecessary bullshit that only caused her more pain. Her lies were really the only things hindering us, but it's still nothing in comparison to what I've done to her. My actions stung her deep. Her actions only destroyed our trust, but we never gave ourselves the chance to rebuild it.
An open hand flashes in front of my face, snapping me out of my trance. "Heyyy," Sophie chimes in, "Earth to Beau? You're spacing out."
"Sorry," I weakly chuckle. I stab my fork into the folds of foil and turn up with a forkful of baked potatoes to keep me from saying anything else beyond that.
I still have yet to work up the courage to talk to her. My own sister. Despite Jo's voicemail advising me to talk to her, it made me consider doing so but it didn't ensure that I did. Normally, anything Jo told me to do, I did in an instant. As long as the order was falling from her lips, I was at her disposal. But talking to Sophie about Jo just didn't feel right. It was Jo's best friend for one. She naturally has her biases against me like any friend would if they saw their friend in that much agony over a failed relationship. Since she's my sister though, she sees me in a different way than the world would. She witnessed me as a child grow into who I am now and that fact looms over me constantly. She knows more about my past than anyone else and one way to tell the future is by looking at the past so I'm sure all of my behaviors are predictable to her now.
I guess I just want her to see me without fault. It's how it's always been, when we were kids I'd always pretend I was okay for the sake of being the strong pillar she lacked as a child. After our father would come stumbling in from a long night, it'd be me to go out there and deal with him so he wouldn't wake Sophie. It'd be me to go check on my little sister and if she was awake, she'd be petrified. The only way to calm that anxiety and alarm was to reassure her that everything was okay. Even at my lowest points as a kid, I still knew I had to protect her. I knew the pain I was dealing with and I'd rather die before watching her go through the same thing.
"Can I ask why you're here?" I query. If she's eating with me in my room for the first time since she started bringing me dinner every night for the last week, there has to be a reason. Most of Sophie's actions come without contemplation, but they almost always have a reason behind them. That's just the kind of person she is at the core.
She lets out a heavy sigh. "You know I hate it when Dad's around," she whispers. It's her turn to stab her fork into her green salad and chew on it to give her a reason not to speak another word. Can't blame her for it either. We've never talked about everything that happened. With the drinking and the abuse. It was a topic that was locked away in the back of our minds when it ended and it never resurfaced between the two of us.
It's different talking to Jo, or anyone really about what happened when I was a kid. Sophie was there. She saw things happen with her own eyes and I doubt she could forget it. I know I sure as hell haven't. It scares me more that she was there to bear witness to the utter hell I was put through and she can relate to it more than anyone else. She knows my pain too well for me to be comfortable to voice it to her.
But if she wants to talk, I can't deny her that. "I know, Soph. He'll be gone tomorrow though, you know how he is," I laugh wryly. What person with a healthy family goes and says something like that? We're so numb to our issues that we don't even notice when they'll pop up in the forms of offhand comments and even snide jokes.
"Why the fuck does he still come around anyway?" she exhales tersely, "It's like nothing ever happened."
"It's a part of his show. Perfect wife, perfect family, perfect life," I mock. We're anything but and yet for the sake of keeping his business alive domestically and abroad, he has to maintain an image where every client wants what he has. Otherwise, sales begin to plummet.So essentially, we all have to follow down that route. If we step out of line, well...we've all seen how that goes.
She goes on to rant. Our plates may be running cold, but this kind of conversation is a long time coming. Food can wait. "His colleagues are assholes too. I wonder if that's like a requirement or something when they set up deals with him, to be an arrogant prick with a wandering eye."
I look at her quizzically about her last remark. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? "Those old fucks were looking at you?" I inquire defensively. Topics like this get my blood fucking boiling. Why do men like that get to openly roam among society? If they find it so difficult to keep their eyes and hands in check, they must be a rabid animal. Rabid animals end up getting put down so...putting two and two together...
A world of difference that would do. Preach respecting girls to boys when they're young and they won't grow up to be, in my opinion, dysfunctioning members of society. An easy fix to a widespread problem.
It pains me even more to hear Sophie say, "Yes, but don't go all caveman alright? It's something I as a woman is forced to put up with. Best believe, if I weren't as prideful as I am, each and every one of them would be socked in the mouth, but I don't waste my breath or even a smidge of my precious time on perverts like that. I simply walk away."
It's a widely accepted issue among women and if I were her, I'd knee the guy where it really hurts. But I get where she's coming from. If she handled every situation like that, she'd be in a juvenile detention center by now.
Gotta love how this world works, am I right?
It doesn't surprise me at this point that my dad would be so sick to sit there while his 'colleagues' made it pain-stakingly obvious they were leering over his daughter. The man has done some pretty sick shit, but that's over line. How the fuck can someone stay silent about thing like that? Especially when they're occurring right in front of them? If there's anything I can comprehend about my dad's issues though is that he cares more about work than he ever did about any of us. The reason he didn't say anything is probably because he's trying to seal off a deal with these repulsive fuckers and he doesn't want them backing out because he told them off.
But he'll sacrifice his daughter for that? Oh hell no, even the thought of it sickens me. The man himself repulses me, but this even more so.
"Good thing Katie called me in time," she remarks, changing the subject. "I was out so I was gonna grab us acai bowls instead cause I know how much you love them." Her eyes roll in awe and sarcasm. She knows how much I hate acai bowls. They're not good. They're not filling. And they're too healthy for my tastes.
I mean, I would have eaten it anyway to be nice, but that's besides the point. "Gross," I grumble before taking the chance to pry, "You were out?" I have an inclination on where she was, but I don't want to look like a lovesick fucking idiot in front of her by assuming. I'm not ashamed of being in love with Jo, that has never been the case when it comes to loving that girl. My shame stems from loving her and finding the means to break her heart.
Sophie's look softens a bit. "Yeah," I already know what's coming. I'm just not sure of what I'll do when it hits me. Do I run from the impact? Or do I face it head on because I damn well know that's what I deserve.
"I went to see how Jo was doing."
A deafening wave of silence passes between us. The kind that brings your thoughts to the surface. I want to ask Sophie how she's doing. The closest I've gotten to answering that question was the voicemail Jo left for me yesterday. I guess she must have forgotten I was at practice, or she was in a really lost place in her mind that she needed somewhere to vent all of that. Her thoughts know no limits or time frames. They sink her down whenever they feel like it and my best guess is veering more towards that voicemail being left when she was in a really low place.
I'm praying she's doing okay at the very least. Feeding myself false hope that that was the only time she ever fell so hard.
"Is she okay?" I meekly ask. I don't have the right to ask about her, I lost that right when I broke things off with her as if we'd never talked about a long future together. The only cause for her pain right now is me and I despise myself for it.
I just cannot help but worry about her. Sophie sighs deeply, not giving me much 'false hope' to work with. "She's um..." my sister trails off slowly, purposely avoiding my gaze. "Well, I haven't seen her this past week so I can't speak for that, but when I saw her today...she was a wreck, Beau. I don't mean to alarm you or anything like that, but I don't want to lie to you either."
At least she's feeling something. She has this thing of closing herself off from her emotions and shielding them with happiness until she forgets about her pain altogether. I'm glad to see she's not doing that with me, not for any narcissistic and prideful reasons. Our break-up shouldn't be another lost memory that makes her suffer. I'd rather her feel pain than force herself to go numb to it.
But did she try to? With Kat around, I doubt she would have gotten very far in her 'forgetting' process. Even so, did she try to forget everything? The memories we made together before everything went to shit were undoubtedly the most precious things to me. Our love was so strong it was almost tangible. I couldn't forget it even if I wanted to. It'd hurt to know that she could. That she'd be willing to forget everything that happened between us for the sake of not feeling anything towards it. It's painful, I know, but when everything was good between us those were memories too valuable to forget.
"Did Kat tell you anything?" I wonder, "Like how she'd been before you saw her?"
She nods softly. "Jo hadn't been eating much, it was a hassle to get her to eat even a granola bar. And she was having these nightmares I guess she's had for a few years now. Since the break-up though, they've gotten worse so Kat moved into her room for the time being. To break her out of that cycle, you know? She also hasn't come to school for the week, but I figured you knew that already. For the most part she's home alone until Kat gets home from school, but she's always getting checked in on. She's coping, Beau, but the process has been hard."
"I can't imagine it's been any easier on you either," she adds quietly. Treading on eggshells she's been around me. I can tell she's trying to respect my boundaries but that gets harder and harder each day that goes by where I'm simply doing what I have to and locking myself in my room for the rest of the day. It's what I did a little over a year ago, the summer I started dabbling in things I shouldn't have. I spent almost my entire sophomore year high off my ass and I allowed Sophie to deal with the repercussions of that. I never wanted her to see me like that again, so I quit before I got too far along. Those doubts in her mind have never settled, for it's too high of a possibility that I relapse into old habits.
Maybe I should try to reassure her that I'll be fine. Sophie deserves that at least after busting her ass to maintain a level-headed outlook between Jo and I. She's in a tough spot, I get that, and I haven't done my part to make it worthwhile. "I haven't stopped thinking about her, Soph," I confess, ignoring her sympathetic look. I'm not even worthy of her sympathy, but she wouldn't come to know why. Her name sums her up basically, too fucking merciful to those she cares most about. "She called me earlier during practice and she left this fuc‒" I stop myself, before correcting, "this voicemail. Telling me all these things about the future, how I could find happiness without her." As if she hadn't been the one to show me what true happiness felt like.
Sophie stands up from the chair across from me and moves to sit on the side of my bed beside me. I can't lie, I do feel somewhat comforted by feeling warmth for the first time in a week where all I've known was the freezing cold. But it's nothing compared to Jo's warmth. That was too good to be true. "You talk, I'll listen," she offers with a tiny grin.
I nod. I've missed someone to vent to. I don't have very many options of people willing to listen and Sophie's the only person I can trust at the moment. So I start talking, only stopping to intake a few deep, shaky breaths. When I got to talking about the way we broke up, that's when I completely fucking lost it. I left out a few parts that were more on the personal side, like the car incident and the sex that followed afterward. That bled into blubbering about how badly I missed this girl. How fucking whipped I was that I'd overlook everything she did just to be by her side again. It was a whole fucking mess.
I'm a fucking mess without her.
~
That day was by far the hardest. It was the first time I'd opened up about the break-up and it didn't feel relieving like one may think. It felt heavier. Like another brick was added to my chest. Had I not been suffocated before, I sure as hell felt like I couldn't breathe.
Today was no different than the days prior. Sophie went out, getting her off my case for a couple of hours. One stinging thought came after the next. One after the other without leaving me enough time to catch a break in between. This time I actually had alcohol at my disposal. A certain someone must have stocked up when their guests arrived and I wasted no time indulging in what I already knew was wrong.
What the hell would Jo say if she saw me now? Drinking my problems away, drinking her away. Would I think she'd spitefully turn this against me to prove her point that I'm no better than her? Probably, but not while we're both suffering like this. Would she take on the burden of the guilt of seeing me getting drunk to cope with the loss of her? Absolutely, there's no question about that.
I never expected things to come so far down the path that they have. Broken up exes we are to each other, even though at some point in time we loved each other too much to even think about a day apart. At the back of my mind, however, I'd always known this day would come. I just hoped when she did go off on her own, she'd be better off internally than she was when we first hung out at our spot. Back then, she was in danger of her own mind and it only seems to have escalated from there.
Even when I tried nearly everything I could to prevent that from happening.
I tried to fix her, I genuinely tried. From the first time I'd realized her 'overthinking' went way deeper than that. When I heard her quiet hyperventilation and saw her clear unrest. I told her I wouldn't try to fix her. We were partners, not therapists. But it'd been a lie because I knew I wanted her to get better. I wanted her to be comfortable showing her genuine self around other people as she was with me. I didn't want her to hold up that fake mask she was so used to putting up in front of people. I was hoping that I'd save her. Only to break her in the end.
At least the alcohol running through my veins helps silence those kinds of thoughts. That's what I need. A break.
Suddenly my door bursts open. I'm too slow to realize who or what it could be. I'm too drowsy to recognize much of anything really. It isn't until the intruder begins talking that I set my head on straight.
"Hey, I brought you dinner. I told Katie to take the night off 'cause you know, it's a Sunday, she'd probably rather be with her family than this excuse for one, so I picked up some Thai on the way home and‒ Beau, what the hell is this?" Sophie stops dead in her tracks. Taking in my splayed-out body on the couch and the near-empty bottle of whiskey perched on the coffee table not too far out of my arm's reach. It doesn't even take her a second to realize what's going on.
"Sorry," I slur. I genuinely am. I didn't intend for her to see me this way, not just for Jo's sake, but for her own as well. The drug problem was bad enough, seeing me indulging in the same crooked habits of our father is even worse by a fucking landslide.
"Fuck," she mutters. Setting the plastic bag in her hand down on the table, she folds her hands and presses them to her chin. Weighing her options on what she should do here. "How much have you had to drink?" I can hear it in her voice how angry she is, but again, she's too fucking merciful. She holds back.
I point to the bottle, giving her a rough estimate of where it was before I got a hold of it. She scoffs in response and reaches over to snatch the bottle away. "Okay," she exhales, "I'll save your ass the lecture, but you already know where my mind is at right now."
I nod silently. However, my head feels ten times heavier than normal, so my nod is barely firm. I force myself to sit upright. She dashes to the in-home theater to grab me a few bottles of water to flush out my system. "You can't be spiraling right now, Beau. It's not good for you or her, think about that," she reminds me as she sets down four bottles of water on the table in front of me. I don't know why I need so many. I feel decent. I can see fine...ish. But if it's what she thinks will help, I'm not one to refuse.
She takes out the take-out container of food and shoves it into my hands with a fork. "Eat." I open my mouth to tell her something along the lines of not being hungry, but Sophie won't have it. "Food belongs in your mouth. Save the talking for when I give a shit." Well, that sums it up quite nicely.
She plops down on the opposite side of the couch, eyeing me harshly. "You know she barely gets out of bed," she starts off, twisting the knife in deeper. Making certain to bury the guilt as far as it'll go so that it consumes me. "Today's the first day she got out of the house."
"Where'd she go?" I ask immediately, as if it were any of my business anymore.
"Her neighbor's house, Leo, remember him?" she answers without fault. That knowledge makes the hairs on the back of my neck brick up.
"The one you hooked up with, what? A week ago?" I retort snidely. For no apparent reason at all really. Similarly to what Jo has done, I'm not mad at Sophie, I'm aggravated with getting caught. She's rubbed off on me some.
In turn, Sophie gives me a quick smack upside the head. "Shut up, you're the one who's drunk in pity. I'm just trying to help you." I turn to look at her with a glare. All of what she's saying is true, I just can't fucking believe her way of getting Jo out of the house was putting her in one with another guy. Even if he is hung up on my sister, that won't stop him from eyeing my girl.
Only, she's not mine anymore. But the sheer thought of her hooking up with someone else, something she's bound to do, makes my blood fucking boil and I can't stop her if she did.
"Hey, hey, don't you give me that look," Sophie scolds, wagging a finger at me, "I took Jo there because his mom made lunch for us so it didn't give her the option to turn down food. She'd been doing that all week may I remind you and this is the first sufficient meal she's had. And it also gave her the opportunity to go home whenever she wanted to."
I bite the inside of my cheek. "Did she enjoy herself at least?" If she smiled, even if it was a fake one, that's far beyond what I'm capable of right now. Her smiling, real or fake, is a big step for her, whether she'd admit it or not.
Sophie nods, but there's uncertainty in her demeanor. "It seems like she did. She was getting along real well with Leo's youngest sister, Lucia," she explains with a soft grin.
I fail to give her a response. I'm happy that she's doing better, I really am. I guess I'm just sad that she's doing it without me. I was so used to making her smile, hearing her laugh, I forgot she'd do those things with other people. It's more obvious now that we're out of each other's lives that we weren't the only people that could make each other happy. How much of a selfish bastard am I? Christ...
She gives an exaggerated sigh, one that lifts and drops her shoulders drastically. "She talked to Leo a bit," she admits. Wow, some honesty around here. "But it wasn't anything more than small talk. You can't be thinking of her that way. Always assuming the worst. That's what tore you two apart."
If only she really knew. "She lied to me," I croak, solely driven by the alcohol swimming in my brain. If I were sober, I wouldn't dare paint Jo as a villain in Sophie's eyes, but she doesn't understand the first thing about what drove us apart. Jo broke our trust and open honesty.
"You think she'd cheat on you?" she asks genuinely. Not with a hint of challenge in her voice.
I shake my head, long knowing the answer to that. But like Sophie pointed out, I've been too laser-focused on seeing the worst side of Jo. I almost forgot who the girl I fell in love with was like in the beginning, when everything was as easy as it could have been. "No," I mutter.
Sophie scoots a bit closer. Close enough to put her hand on my shoulder, gripping it firm with sincerity. "She still loves you, Beau. You two aren't as bad off as you think you are. Granted, I may not know all of what you two have been through together, but I know that when I see you looking at her, you've found your home. And when she looks at you she's found her happy place. That kind of love is rare. If you really think this is the end, then you won't have to worry about tomorrow."
Immediately my brows furrow with confusion. "What's tomorrow?"
Sighing tersely, she angles her body to face me. "She's coming back to school tomorrow. So you need to get your shit together and that," she pauses for emphasis. She leans forward to grab the neck of the bottle I drank almost the entirety of and waves it in my face, "That starts with ditching this shit and figuring out if this fight is worth losing her over. I told her this too. When you see her things may change, you don't know that."
I shake my head, too overwhelmed to process all of this shit. She's coming back tomorrow? Inevitably she would, but I didn't expect the day to come by so fast. Every day without her has gone so fucking slow, torturing me with every second. Suddenly time is moving like a ticking fucking time bomb.
Less than 24 hours to figure out what the fuck I'm going to do.
a/n
uh ohhhh so they're gonna see each other after YA KNOW EVERYTHING gah I wonder how that's gonna go??
enough with my torture let's talk about something on the good side I missed school today so I was able to post earlier ahhh but in the bad side I have to take my driving written test and I'm scared asf for it 😭 I took the day off to study but in reality ima write to my heart's content 🥰
That's all I've got for today next update will be here on Friday as usual so stay tuned!