"Are you sure?" he asks quietly. "Are you sure you’re okay Ash?"
I turn to him now, keeping my eyes on his feet, unable to look at him. "Please, not now. Just go. Please just go. Please Luke, please." My voice betrays me, I’m afraid and I know he can hear it.
I feel him watching me for what feels like forever. I’m about to explode, and I’m not going to be able to stop myself, stop the words that are going to spew from my mouth, the anger I can feel surging through me. This isn’t right, this can’t be happening.
"Ash," he finally says his voice quiet. "It’s okay you know. If you want to talk, ever want to…well I’m here if you do."
I still don’t say anything. I don’t look at him and I don’t move. He says nothing more, just exhales loudly before thankfully turning and walking out.
When the door closes, I collapse to my knees on the floor. Angry tears fall from my eyes and I can do nothing to stop them. I don’t want this life anymore, I can’t keep doing this. It’s killing me.
The grief and the guilt I carry, are consuming me. The grief and the guilt that I carry are slowly suffocating me. I feel buried alive, like every breath I’m forced to take is a huge effort. Sometimes I wonder if it would just be easier to stop breathing.
I feel trapped. Time, my sanity, everything, it all feels like it’s somehow running out. The will to keep going, the will to even wake up every day, it’s all slowly disappearing and I don’t know if I can keep doing this much longer.
But it’s the anger that’s really killing me.
The anger I feel for all of the people I love, who’ve died on me, who’ve gone and left me all alone.
The anger I feel for anyone who just tries to be nice to me. The ones I have to constantly push away to protect.
The anger I have for Sam for knowing the truth about me and dying anyway.
But most of all, the anger I have for myself.
The anger at being the way I am, the anger at having caused all of this and more than anything, the anger at being unable to do a fucking thing about it all.
I’m full of anger and that’s what’s really killing me.
I don’t know how long I stay on the floor, but I know I have to leave. I have to get out of here and go home where I can hide from everyone, where I can suffocate alone. When I stand up to go, I notice the bottle still in my hand and as I walk out the door I throw it at the trash can where it smashes into a million tiny pieces. I don’t stop and I don’t look back. I hear Sarah call out my name as I leave, but I ignore her. I don’t see Luke at all and I just keep walking out the door.
I can’t. I just can’t do this anymore.
∞
Somehow, Dad had managed to get himself lost trying to drive home from Boston. It should have been straight forward, just head for the I-95 south and keep going. It takes you all the way back to Providence. Only my Dad was crap with directions and refused to use a GPS. He’d tried calling me that night when he’d evidently ended up somewhere else, but I was at the party and didn’t hear my phone.
Of course, I was also the one who’d asked, in fact begged him to drive up to see us. So of course it was completely my fault he was even driving at all.
Sam and I had been living in our apartment for a while by then, but I hadn’t really been back to Providence. I hadn’t taken much stuff with me when I first left, because I didn’t think I would just leave and never go back. But when we got our own place, I decided I should probably get the rest of my stuff. Really make this place my home.
So I finally asked Dad to drive up to see us, packing the car with the last of my things.
He only came up for the day. He got there mid-morning and after we unpacked the car and tried to find some space for everything, Dad said to me, "Ok kiddo, now you’ve officially moved out, how about I buy you some lunch? That way I know you’re going to get one decent meal this week."
I laughed and joked, "What you think I can’t cook?"
Dad just laughed and said "No, I know you can’t Ash, grilled cheese is not a proper meal you know."
"Come on, you know it is Dad," I said smiling at him.
Dad faked a look of surprise, as though his previous statement had been wrong, before pulling me into a hug. "I’m gonna miss you kiddo, you know that right?"
"I already miss you Dad, really."
He kissed the top of my head and said, "Come on then, let’s go eat."
So we went out, finding a place and having a great afternoon together. Sam didn’t come that day, instead letting me have some time alone with Dad. We didn’t do anything exciting, just hung out for the afternoon, and spent most of it wandering the streets of Boston.
"Next time, we should try and get tickets to a game," Dad said as we walked past Fenway Park.
"Definitely," I said. "Sam’s mad on the Red Sox, even though he comes from Seattle. I’m sure he can sort something out."
"Sounds good Ash," Dad said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me close to him.