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As each image from our younger years passes over the screen, I cry uglier and harder. I tremble from head to toe as my vision blurs and a tight pinch pierces between my lungs. The onslaught of memories set off the full emotional spectrum and it is pure misery. And I welcome every ounce of it.
At least anguish is better than numbness. At least it reminds me I am still alive. Because some days, I wonder if this is one huge nightmare. Some sick, twisted version of hell. Some days, life is hell.
I wake up on the couch, the blanket cocooning me and Luna purring on my chest. The light of day dims, but the sun is still up. I give Luna a few pets before cuddling her in my arms. After a moment, I bolt upright and Luna hisses at me before scampering off.
“Sorry, Luna.”
Shit. What time is it? I told Shelly I would meet her and Jonas at the bar.
I glance at the clock on the kitchen wall, noting it’s five-twenty. Flying off the couch, I head for my room and riffle through my closet. Thank goodness the bar is a short drive from the house, otherwise I would be screwed. After picking out a top and a pair of jeans, I jump in the shower and wash away the pool of sorrow I have been swimming in all day.
Once out and dressed, I feed Luna and grab my keys and wallet. I dash out the door and drive to the bar. Seven minutes later, I park in the lot and step through the bar doors.
I spot Shelly and Jonas at our usual table and walk over to them.
“Hey, you look like shit,” Shelly says, not sugarcoating my wayward appearance.
“You really know how to flatter a girl. Thanks. I haven’t been sleeping much. You’re lucky I got a nap in before tonight, otherwise I’d look so much better.”
I flip her the middle finger. But she knows I’m teasing her.
“Sorry. You know I call it as I see it,” she apologizes with a shrug.
“True. Can we please talk about something else?” I didn’t come out to talk about how depressing my life is. Tonight is about having fun and feeling better. If that isn’t going to happen, I will just go home and wallow alone.
“Yeah, sorry,” Shelly says.
The waitress approaches the table and sets down three beers. Mine is at my lips within a second, half of it down my throat. At this rate, I will be drunk in no time. We order another round and some appetizers.
By the time karaoke starts an hour later, I am somewhere between tipsy and drunk. And it is a nice place to be. In this state, not much of anything matters. Life has no issues. No drama. No life-altering decisions need to be made. It’s all rainbows and unicorns and horrible singers on small stages.
As some overly primped woman sings the words to Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love a Bad Name”, I lean on Jonas. His arm wraps around my shoulder and keeps me from teetering off my stool.
Jonas really is a great guy. I hope he happens upon the right woman one day. As much as we went back and forth, part of me always knew nothing more would evolve between us. Jonas has a big heart and will be perfect for a very lucky lady one day. But that lady won’t be me. And I hope he knows Shelly and I will need to approve whoever this future mystery woman will be. She will have a lot to live up to.
Jonas presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Are you okay?” he whisper-asks just loud enough for me to hear.
For a second, I nod. But the nod slowly transitions, and soon I shake my head before turning my face into his shoulder.
God, I am sick and tired of crying. My bloodshot eyes ache and feel as if they are swollen to twice their size. My throat scratches every time I speak and throbs with each breath I take. And honestly, I don’t know how much more of this I can handle.
Jonas delicately rubs a hand up and down my back. Says soothing words only I hear. Shushes me and tells me everything will be alright. And his kindness has me on the cusp of crying harder, but I resist. There is only so much my body can handle.
Two lackluster karaoke songs later, we all agree to call it a night. We pay our tab before I stumble out the door. Jonas drives me home in my car and Shelly follows us so she can take Jonas back to his Jeep. The drive is short and filled with low-volume rock music from the radio. Jonas doesn’t speak up while I lean against the window with my eyes closed. Minu
tes later, we park in my driveway and shuffle out. Shelly and Jonas walk me inside, hug me goodnight and disappear out the door.
Once alone, I kick off my shoes and peel off my jeans, crawl into bed and curl into a ball. Luna jumps up on the bed and nudges her head against mine. For a beat, I pet her soft fur and a sense of comfort washes over me as she purrs loudly and professes her unconditional love.
“At least you’ll stay by my side, pretty girl,” I whisper.
As if she understands me, Luna meows in response. I snuggle her into my chest and fall asleep, waking on and off through the night. Throughout the night, dreams of photos and drawings, hand holding and kisses, goodbyes and love letters haunt me every hour. As they do every night. And probably will for the rest of my life.
Twelve
Cora
Twelve and a half years ago
