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Asher. He’s still here?
I look at the clock and try to figure out how long I’ve been sleeping. Has he been here the entire time?
“I’m fine. I told you to go away.”
“I’m sorry. I fell asleep waiting and woke up to you screaming.”
He fell asleep in my hallway?
It takes all my energy to pull myself off the couch and shuffle over to the door.
When I unlock it and pull it open, there he stands, rumpled and sad.
A mirror image of myself.
“This fucking sucks.” I say through tears.
Asher opens his arms and that’s all it takes. I fall into them and fall apart.
He leads me inside and over to the couch where we sit in silence and cry.
He doesn’t say anything about the mess or how I look. Or how it's possible I stink since I haven’t showered in days.
We just sit.
After what feels like hours, and in between dozing off and crying, Asher nudges me gently. “Hey, Mads?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you hungry?”
“No. Are you?
“Yeah but I can grab something. The ice cream is probably soup by now.”
“Shit,” I groan. “I’m sorry.” I detangle myself from him and sit up. I run my hands over my hair and clothes but it's no use.
“Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have brought it. It was insensitive.”
“No, it was nice. Thank you.”
“I don’t know how to navigate any of this, Mads. Fuck.” He blows out a breath and rubs his chin, an almost full beard coming in.
I realize then I’ve been so caught up in my own grief I haven’t paid attention to how Asher’s doing. I take his hand in mine and squeeze. “I’ve been a shitty friend. Not even asking you how you’re dealing with it all. I’m sorry. Are you back to work and classes?”
“I went to a few classes and I’ve been working. I need the distraction.”
“I can’t even get out of bed.” When I say it out loud, more sadness falls over me, like a black veil. Or more like a thick blanket choking me.
“It’s okay. We all grieve differently.”
“How is this even real?” I whisper. “I feel like half of me is gone.”
“I wish it wasn’t. More than anything.”
Now that he’s here next to me, I like the feeling of comfort he brings. Inside, something screams at me to block people out, block everything out and shield myself, but sadness is so lonely. “Will you sleep here tonight? I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“Of course I will.”
