~ PLEASE READ~
Before reading on, I want to give a quick trigger warning for grief and depressive feelings and thoughts. I personally lost someone to addiction, so writing this was cathartic, but pretty heavy too. This chapter is basically Charlee working through her grief, and learning to lean on Joe. You won't miss a whole lot of you decide to skip it. Stay safe my loves.
I stand in front of my bookshelf, chewing on my nails.
I know I have some photo albums that I had brought with me when I moved. It's just a case of stepping forward, and actually looking for them.
But, I'm frozen. Just like I was frozen the day of Drew's funeral.
Ever since Maya mentioned Drew the other day, I haven't been able to get him off my mind.
It's funny. I'd managed to go quite awhile after the funeral without even thinking of him. Now, with just one mention, he's all I can think about. He's infiltrated my mind.
I'd felt guilty when I realised I'd not been thinking about him. Now, he's filled my mind with such a vengeance, that I'm almost convinced he's punishing me for it.
Robert says that the seven steps of grief are kind of accurate, but that not everyone goes through all of them, and not necessarily in the same order.
That kind of disappointed me. I'd clearly been in denial, but now I don't know what to expect to happen next.
I don't feel angry, I don't feel like bargaining. I don't feel anything but a heavy sadness. A hopelessness.
It's suddenly so raw, and real to me that I'll never see him again. I'll never get to hear his jokes. I'll never get to brace myself for the late night phone calls, because his life didn't follow the same circadian rhythm as mine. I'll never get to hold him while he is the one that is lost, and I am the one helping him. I'll never get to worry about him anymore.
That last one really hits me. Because it's a sadness, but mixed with relief. The stress is over, but at what cost? Is it better to have him and be worried for him, than to not have him at all? The guilt sits in this question somewhere here too.
Maybe Maya was right. Maybe I am clinging to the people in my life a bit tighter now, maybe I do have a subconscious fear of losing them, because I lost Drew. Because I finally let people in, like really let them in.
I take a step forward and swallow. I'm no longer frozen, just nervous and cautious like a gazelle slowly walking out into the open. I remind myself that there's no lions here. Only pictures that I can put away if it gets too much.
I take another step forward, and run my fingers across the spines of my books. Looking for the albums.
Finally my fingers reach two large, black albums. I tentatively pull them out, and sit with them on the floor.
As I open the first one, I'm immediately hit with pictures of Drew and I when we were little.
There's one of him trying to help mum bathe me, and I let out a giggle.
There was a time when he looked after me, before I became his carer and looked after him.
The picture is ironic to me, as a memory of me bathing Drew when he was sick and detoxing comes to my mind.
When I was helping him, I wasn't angry at him. I was sad. Not just for me, having a brother going through this, but sad that he was going through this again.
Each rehab admission was a scene of cautious hope. Some people may say it's impossible to feel both hope and dread at the same time, but it's not.
Hope mixed in with dread, are the two staple emotions when loving someone with addiction. Of course it is though, addiction is full of contradicting feelings and behaviours.
At least he's not hurting anymore. He used the drugs to distract from the pain inside, and now his pain is gone.
I leaf through the pages of the albums, seeing some of my favourites. I wonder if I'd been distracting myself too with my friends and with Joe, from the pain and reality that my brother is gone.
I find a photo of us from one of the last times I went to visit him in rehab. He looked so healthy, and so happy. He sounded so hopeful too. He had plans of coming back and working there as a Counsellor. That never happened.
I keep looking through, until my vision blurs and a lump appears on my throat, and I realise I've began crying.
I put the albums down and look around me. I don't remember doing it, but at some point I'd started pulling the photos out, and now they're surrounding me.
The tears are streaming down my face now.
"Charlee?" A voice calls.
I look at my front door, and see Joe. Had he let himself in?
"I was knocking, but there was no answer," Joe explains.
I nod, then look back down at all the photos. Do I put them back? Should I do something with them?
Joe walks over, and sits down next to me, rubbing my back.
"Are you okay?" He asks me softly.
I look at him and shake my head. My face is probably red and puffy, covered in tears. My nose is beginning to run, and my throat is beginning to burn from trying to hold in the sobs.
"Silly question huh?" Joe chuckles.
Joe picks up some of the photos surrounding us.
"Hey, is that you when you were little?" He asks me.
I swallow, and let out a hoarse "Yeah".
"Is this- is this your brother?" He asks, pointing to a photo of Drew and I sitting on the beach.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my arm, and reach out for the photo. A sad smile slowly creeping onto my face.
"That's Drew. We were making mermaid tails in the sand that day. He kept getting mad because I found all the best shells to decorate them, but when the waves eventually washed them away and I started to cry, he helped me find more," I tell Joe.
It's nice talking to Joe about these things. About memories with my brother. Reliving them all by myself is hard, but sharing my brother with someone I care about feels good. Like he's living on, in another way.
"Have you been dealing okay? With losing him I mean?" Joe asks me. His hand still rubbing in circles on my back.
I nearly say yes as an automatic reaction, before catching myself. I let out a sigh.
"No. I thought I was, but I'm just realising now that I was in denial. I think... maybe I've been using that stuff with you as a distraction," I tell him truthfully.
Joe nods and smiles sadly.
"You don't need to use me to distract yourself. I'm here for you, use me as a support. We can face this together," He says to me.
I look into his eyes and smile. My heart feels like it's actually physically swelling.
"Can I do anything? Have you eaten?" Joe asks me.
I shake my head.
"I don't know. No, I haven't eaten," I tell him.
Joe stands up, then pulls me up to my feet. He leads me to the couch, putting my fluffy throw blanket over me. He picks up the tv remote and puts on a movie for me. I laugh at his choice.
"Twilight? Really?" I ask him.
He shrugs and smiles.
"It's good, anyone who says they don't like at this point are just lying to themselves," Joe tells me.
I consider this.
"It's okay. Would have been better if Edward was a girl," I tell him.
Joe glances at the tv.
"Yeah I can see that," He agrees.
"You watch it, I'm going to bring you some water, and then see what you've got and make you some food," Joe tells me, leaning down and kissing me on the forehead.
I look up at him, feeling content. I'm still sad. Like a heavy kind of sad, the kind that sits on top of other feelings.
But I'm glad I have Joe to help me through it. It feels right. He was there the day I found out, he was there on the phone when I couldn't go inside the church for the funeral, and now he's here taking care of me as I work through the grief.
"Hey Joe?" I ask him, making him stop on his way out of the room.
"Yeah?" He answers.
"Thank you. For everything," I say.
Joe smiles.
"Anytime"
Some time later, Joe comes back with some nachos he made with what he found in my kitchen. My grocery game is not top tier. Thankfully, the boy I'm seeing is.
He sits down next to me and I immediately snuggle up to him. He rubs my arm and kisses the top of my head.
My eyes start to get heavy as we're watching the movie. Crying really takes it out of me, and I'm so warm and content covered with my blanket and snuggled up to Joe. Eventually, I can't keep them open anymore as my breathing falls into a steady rhythm.
I dream that I'm in a dark and thick forest, alone. I can't see any paths around me, and I don't know the right way out.
I can hear Drew's voice, and I look around but I can't see him.
"Follow my voice," Drew calls out.
I start to walk between trees and bushes in the direction of his voice, but it's so dark I can barely see in front of me and I'm following his voice blindly.
The further into the forest I get, the spikier and sharper the bushes get. I keep pricking myself on them. Still, the voice beckons me, and I don't know any other way out.
I keep following blindly, even though it hurts.
My legs and arms are covered in scratches now from the spikes, and I'm sweating as I get more and more frantic, the sweat is making the scratches sting. I scream out, frustrated.
"Charlee," A different voice calls me this time.
I stop, and turn my head towards the sound of the voice.
"Charlee, come with me," He says, and I realise it's Joe.
I turn around and start following his voice. The further I go, following that voice, the less bushes and trees I start to see. The way is clearer now, and not so dark.
I'm finding my way.
"Charlee, come on wake up,"
I open my eyes, feeling groggy and confused.
I'm in Joes arms on the couch, end credits and music from Twilight playing on the screen.
"What happened?" I ask him.
"The ending? Or do you mean you falling asleep?" He asks with a smirk.
"I fell asleep," I say, partly telling myself.
"Yeah. Guess I'm pretty comfy," Joe chuckles.
I smile at him.
"You know, I had the weirdest dream," I tell him.
Concern washes over Joes faces.
"Are you okay?" He asks.
I bite my lip, and nod slowly as I think. It was a weird dream, and probably nonsense.
I was never really one to try read into the meanings of dreams too much.
I've dreamt about singing cheeseburgers before, it didn't lead to some psychological breakthrough, I just like cheeseburgers and musicals. This did feel different though.
"I'm okay," I tell him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks me, rubbing my arms again, like he was doing when I fell asleep.
I shake my head, and put my hand in his.
"I want to go to bed. Im exhausted," I tell him.
"Do you want me to stay?" Joe asks me.
I decide that I do. I do not want to be alone right now, especially if I keep having such weird dreams.
I tell him that I want him to stay, and he holds me by the hand and walks me to my bedroom.
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(Authors Note: I hope this one wasn't too depressing for you guys! I know this is a romance, but I think one of the most romantic things can be when the person you love is there with you through the hard stuff as well as the good stuff. See you on Sunday!)