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I’m one of those things now, I know. An object in their game, dolled up to fit their needs.
I barely know who I am anymore, my chest is a hollow cave, my brain is empty. Grief comes in waves, I’m told there are five stages but mine are all over the place.
Denial.
Depression.
Anger.
Depression.
Bargaining.
More Anger.
Lots of depression.
Depression is my one constant, the thing that stays with me the most. My best friend and closest confidante. I curl up in bed with it, letting it sink it’s claws deep into everything I am, everything I know, until I’m nothing but a deep dark void of emptiness. My bones melt away, my body feels far off, my mind shuts down and I sink away into nothingness. Sometimes that’s better, when everything shuts off. I enjoy having the reprieve from the anxiety, not having to think about all the reasons I’m here. Sometimes the depression is just better.
The last stage is acceptance, but I haven’t felt that one yet. I’ve convinced myself it’s a lie, a cruel joke created to make me think that one day I’ll feel better. One day this will all pass.
But I don’t think it ever will. I don’t think there will ever be a day I wake up and don’t feel fucking empty.
Noah slides into the seat next to me, pressing the start button and bringing the engine to life. His Mercedes is nothing like my old Beetle. The engine purrs a soft sound, the seats are smooth beneath me, a large screen sits in the center between us. This car screams money.
I twist my fingers in my lap as he navigates us out of the gated community and out on the road. My anxiety is threatening to claw its way out of my chest, I’m spiraling with all the thoughts of where we could be going, not knowing which one it might be.
“Breathe,” Noah’s voice sounds beside me, making me flinch and pulling me from the depths of my mind. “I can practically hear you spiraling.” He adds. “It’s fine, Mik.”
I want to believe him. I want to trust him. I want more than anything to push away all my fears and thoughts and just sink into Noah, letting him take care of me.
But I’ve done that before, and it didn’t work out.
“You loved me once,” he says, his voice a hushed whisper. I’m not sure if he’s talking to me, or thinking aloud from how soft his voice is.
“I did.” I tell him, my eyes focused on the road, trying to ignore the bob of his throat and the solemn look on his face.
I loved him in ways that I never expected. I wasn’t looking for anything when he walked into my life and suddenly I was wrapped up in all things Noah. He made me laugh, held me close. Being with him was pure light and happiness. Flickers of our relationship float through my mind like a montage from a rom-com.
He was my everything, my euphoria.
And then he was nothing.
“It doesn’t just stop,” he murmurs. His sad voice penetrates my soul. My love for him still runs deep, even with everything going on, my hate is just a Band-Aid. Stopping my feelings for him would be like someone gutting me, it’s not an easy thing. I can’t just turn it on and off, but I can’t let him know that.
“Where are we going, Noah?” My voice comes out sadder, whinier than I intend and Noah sighs heavily.
For a moment, it looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looks overtaken with grief and sorrow, then just as quickly he pushes it all aside, slipping his perfectly tailored mask back into place.
“You trust me, Mik?” he asks. It’s a loaded question, he asked me before and I told him, yes. He pulls in a deep breath and slowly releases it. I can feel the conflict radiating off him, he’s torn.
When I don’t answer, he continues. “I need you to trust me, baby. What I’m going to ask you to do in there is going to be hard, but it’s important. Can you trust me?”
As he asks the question as he navigates the Mercedes into a parking lot in front of a tall building covered in glass windows from bottom to top. The sign reads McKinley & Sons, it’s a law firm.
“What are we doing?” I ask, the words leaving my lips rushed and frantic.
The anxiety is welling back up inside me.
