Page 89 of Relapse

“I should go,” she said, almost to herself. “I’ll text you.”

All I could do was nod. I didn’t trust my voice anymore. I watched her leave, the space she had occupied already beginning to feel hollow. There was a place that Delane created in me, and without her, I was an empty void.

The door clicked shut behind her and the silence instantly began prying at me, persistent, like an urge to scratch and pick a fresh scab on the skin.

That familiar itch worked its way down, weaving through my chest and into my bones. Not just for Delane, though that was part of it—but for something more, something chemical to ease this desire. This need didn’t ask permission, it pushed out of me with every breath I took, and seeped out from every pore. It was all consuming and impossible to ignore. A rewiring.

I exhaled slowly, pressing my hands together, trying to steady the craving.

But the absence Delane left behind only seemed to make it worse.

Chapter twenty-two

Qualities I’m Not Proud Of

NOAH

Day One

Imissed her already.

That happiness Delane brought to me wasn’t something I thought I would lose. But with her gone, even smiling felt like a chore. I didn’t want to go to class, because what would be the point? She wouldn’t be there to welcome me.

I missed her smile. I texted her to see if she made it safe.

She sent me a cute picture of herself in the airport, with the caption:

Just landed.

My mind drifted to thoughts of her body. I missed that too. My body ached, starved for touch.

I was going crazy just thinking about it.

Day Two

David had made a recovery. He’d return home soon. Amazing what blood transfusions and weeks of bed rest could do for you. And pain meds. I was familiar with those.

The pills I took round the clock kept me pretty well sedated. I wasn’t a bother to anyone, and I didn’t need to leave the house. Hell, I didn’t have the energy to get out of bed. I was sure Damian was pleased about me staying close to home anyhow.

The Vicodin hit me differently from some of the other pills though. I started noticing how low it made me feel. After it wore off, I’d be unable to control my frustration with anything. I had a shorter fuse than usual, my mood swings taking absolutely every last ounce of energy out of my body. On the pills, I’d start to consider the world outside of myself—existentially. And for a while, those peaceful, painless thoughts kept me fulfilled. But once it would be in my system for longer, I’d start thinking about the end of my life. How I’d die. When I’d die. If there would be anything to see afterwards, or maybe just like a light switching off, I’d enter a dark void and be gone.

Sometimes the darkness consumed me completely, dragging me down to some empty, watery grave within myself. The fear and anxiety would pile on top of me, an insane pressure like I was lying at the bottom of the ocean, just looking up at the light I couldn’t reach.

What was there even to live for?

My brother? Mom?

I rose, even only for a few fleeting moments to kiss my mother good morning.

Then I returned to pointless, peaceful slumber.

Sometimes the thoughts would outweigh the guilt, and I’d pray not to wake up.

Day Three

1 new voicemail

“Hey Noah, it’s Professor Rad. How are you feeling? I haven’t seen you in class. Just wanted to touch base with you and extend a reminder that my office hours are open this week if you need tutoring or just additional support getting caught up with some missing assignments. If you need to reach me, you can also send me an email, okay? Let me know.”