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Five days. Five excruciatingly long days filled with tablets and injections and ‘therapy’ – both the talking and the shock kind. My body is exhausted and my skin feels completely alien to me. I’m frazzled and frayed, unsure who I am anymore. It’s like my head is shrouded in fog.
Bone tired. Dead on my feet. If you have a metaphor for it, my short-circuited brain is feeling it, or it would be, if I were capable of feeling.
Is numb a feeling, an emotion, or a state of being? Because whatever it is, that’s all I am now.
Once they’re happy they’ve well and truly broken me – this illness festering inside of me – they let me go under strict orders, increased surveillance, daily therapy appointments and even higher dosages of medications.
Five days.
The only saving grace is that this time there’s no Summer to greet me. Good. My anger is almost gone, but so’s the trust. She is not my friend. She betrayed me, turned on me and dragged me here, then abandoned me to the wolves.
Fuck her.
She knew they were going to keep me in there. She packed a bag of my stuff. She knew. How could she? Why didn’t she at least give me a heads-up?
I don’t want to see her, but I know she’ll be there at my dorm when I get back, playing the role of caring best friend there to settle me back in, when really all she is is my jailer. I might not be able to avoid her, but I can cut her out of my life. What little life I’ll have between increased meds morning, noon and night.
I sit on the ferry and wait, holding my phone in hand, for a signal. All I can think about is texting Cove to apologise for going AWOL and missing our date. I was actually looking forward to it. I swear thoughts of him were the only thing that kept me sane while I was trapped in that hospital.
As soon as my phone connects to service, the messages start rolling in. There are several from Summer, which I ignore. She knows I didn’t have access to my phone in there so she’s just appeasing her own guilt by messaging me when she knows I won’t see it or be able to respond. I’m supposed to be ‘in a good place’ now, mentally speaking at least. Replying to Summer would likely undo that.
Instead I focus on the only other two people who have my number. Surprisingly there’s messages – plural – from Bhodi as well as Cove. I don’t know what has me clicking on the former’s name first, and reading through all the random crap he sent me. Links to videos, memes, silly little gifs and caustic remarks about our professor. I almost want to smile. I do want to message him back, but I have nothing witty to say, so I move on to Cove’s texts instead.
With each new message – and there’s a slew of them – I can feel his concern rising then giving way to panic, then anger, and finally acceptance. He thinks I don’t want to know him and that makes me feel…less numb?
Numb and sad at the same time maybe. When Summer broke up with her first boyfriend, I questioned her when she didn’t seem that upset. I remember her saying to me that when you’re devastated you put a brave face on or harden your heart. I didn’t know what she meant back then, but I guess I do now. Fuck. If I act like I don’t care that Cove has moved on, will it hurt less?
I should text him back. Apologise. But what would I say? I can’t explain…this. I can barely understand what’s going on myself. I’m a mess and the hospital have said I’m ‘one major incident’ away from being sectioned. Indefinitely this time. Basically, they think I’m crazy.
Mother would be so pleased.
Maybe it’s for the best that Cove has moved on. Maybe I should stay alone. Less people to hurt when the inevitable happens that way. Why break the habit of a lifetime, right?
Only, the thought of doing that makes it hard to breathe. Cove makes me feel. I don’t want to live in this numb, lonely little bubble. I want Cove and even Bhodi to be a part of my life. I need friends, company, maybe even more.
Without second – or is it quadruple by now? – guessing myself, I quickly fire off a text to Cove and press send before I can chicken out.
Me: Hi :)
Thrilling, I know. But it’s a start. I don’t expect a reply from him but one pings back immediately.
Cove: Omg, Mai-tai! Where have you been?
He called me Mai-tai still. That has to mean something, right?
Me: Sorry. I was away for a while and I didn’t have access to my phone until now. I just got your messages. Sorry.
Cove: Don’t you apologise. I’m the one that’s sorry, I was worried sick. I didn’t mean those last few texts I sent. I was out of my mind and I guess I just kind of lost it.
I’m wondering what to reply to that when another message comes through.
Cove: Where are you right now?
Me: Why?
Cove: I want to see you. Can I call?
Me: I’m on the boat back from the mainland. Should be docking soon.
