I realize I shouldn’t bethisupset.I’ve replayed the conversation at least a hundred times, and I don’t think he was pissed when he saw me.Maybe a little annoyed.Maybe a little put out that I kept him up all night with the music and my friends’ voices.They’ve never been the quietest people, although I had no idea he could hear anything.Swear to God.If we’d known we were bothering him, it never would have happened.
I know my heart shouldn’t be pounding when I think of Parker’s eyes as he stood next to his truck, his arms crossed over his chest and thisexpressionon his face, like?—
Like he was glad I walked up because he was thinking about me.I guess he was only thinking about how the single party I’ve had in the condo since I moved in got a little out of hand.There might have been some guys over at one point—friends of Hazel’s who she’d met in college.I couldn’t remember their names, but people’s names haven’t seemed important since my mom died.Almost nothing has seemed important since my mom died, honestly, but the way Parker talked to me?—
It’s just he didn’t have to wait.He could have said something.Him waiting… something about it.It makes me so unreasonably upset.
And yeah, I know that doesn’t make any sense.
I don’t know if I’m fine.I don’t know how anything could be truly fine when my mom isn’t here anymore.When I can’t call her or text her or leave her a voicemail about my terrible days.When I can’t feel better the second she calls me back.
“We’ll be here whenever you need us,” Hazel says into my ear, her arms tight around me on the steps of the condo.“I can stay a few more days if you want.A week.However long, really.I don’t mind.”I know she can't though.Not unless she wants to lose her job.The sentiment is sweet though.
“I’m good,” I promise her.“I’m…better.But if I start to feel—” I’m already starting to feel crushed by the sadness that might not ever let go of me.“If I need you, I’ll call.”
“Swear.”
“I swear,” I promise her, and hug her a little tighter.“Drive safe.”
“I will.”Hazel kisses my cheek, and then she’s gone.I stay on the steps to wave to her as her car disappears around the corner.
Then I just breathe in the quiet.I can hear the ocean from here, like everybody else.It’s always there, making that sound, day and night, but when you have four friends in your house, it’s hard to hear anything else.
I glance over at Parker’s place and feel…
A little guilty.
Notveryguilty, because if he wanted it to be completely quiet all night or on the weekends, he could have said so.That’s a very standard practice for landlords.They’re supposed to put that kind of information in the lease so nobody has to have a confrontation.
But then?—
We could have been quieter.I could have just said we didn’t have plans to stay up all night when he talked to me at the beach.I could have explained.I could have not freaked out over basically nothing and been a complete bitch to him.
Letting my head fall back I groan.I don’t know.I could have done everything differently, I guess.
By Monday morning, I’m feeling as down as I did before Hazel’s emergency sleepover happened.I don’t want to go to my therapy appointmentat all,which is a good sign that I need to be there.I make up a million excuses not to go, but in the end, I drag myself there anyway.
My therapist, Anne, runs her practice out of a room in the front of her house with a separate entrance.It’s cozy, with an overstuffed chair for clients to sit in and a colorful rug on the floor.A prism by the window reflects rainbows onto the deep green walls.Anne, my therapist, is making tea when I arrive.She hands me a cup with a quiet greeting, and I settle into the chair with it.It doesn’t matter that it’s summer.I still appreciate the heat.I’ve seen her for six sessions now.I’m used to the pattern of how things go.I’m used to the smell of the herbal tea and the faint bell from her cat as he moves somewhere in the house.
Anne settles in across from me and inhales the scent of her tea, then meets my eyes.“So,” she says, like we’ve been talking for a long time already and we’re only changing topics.“How was the party?”
“It was horrible.”
Her eyebrows go up.“Was it?I thought you felt positive about having your friends come to see you.”
“No.”I take a sip of my tea.It’s the perfect temperature, but it makes my throat ache.“No.It was—most of it was fun.Hazel pulled out all the stops.They all did.They really wanted to cheer me up.”
“But you weren’t cheered up?”
The sun streams in through the windows, and I’m reminded of the good things.
I need this.I just let all the thoughts fly out of my mouth.
“It just feels,” I say carefully, trying to be as accurate as I can about how I feel.It’s hard to find the words because my emotions are a mess.A big, painful mess that I can’t clean up or get rid of.“It feels like nothing can go right.”
“You know that’s not true, right?”Anne looks at me with soft eyes.
“I know.”I let out a heavy exhale.“I know.”
