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“I’m not a therapist, but have you tried forgiving yourself?”he says just as Lang, my manager and a family friend, approaches us.
“You okay, kid?”Lang asks.
“I’m thirty.Shouldn’t you stop calling me kid?”
He scoffs.“It’s a habit, and that’s not the point.You seem a little on the edge,” he remarks, but his words have genuine worry.“If needed, I can have a car ready to take you home.”
“He said he’s fine, Lang, let him be.”Zeke is the one who protests.
“But we know he’s not,” Lang insists.
“We?”I arch a brow, crossing my arms and challenging him.“Who else has made assumptions about me?”
With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Lang relents.And I know who sent him to check on me—Sanford, his best friend.
“Tell him to leave me the fuck alone,” I snarl.“We have an understanding.He stays in his lane and doesn’t acknowledge me.”
Lang gives me a sad smile and squeezes my shoulder.“I’m here for you if this gets to be too much.”
Life is too much.I handle it well enough, but having so many eyes on me is torture.More so when I can’t even show Sanford that I’m not that broken—nor that I have my life well put together.
Every day is a battle.It’s not easy to put one foot in front of the other.Each breath I draw is a small victory.I’m surviving.It’s hard to remember what it is to not be in a fight-or-flight state.I can hardly remember what it means to live without anxiety, fear, and anger consuming my insides.But at least I can say I’ve been sober for 1537 days.That’s four years and a few months of sobriety.
I do it for myself, my family, and sometimes for them.
Yet, despite the milestone, I remain trapped in purgatory—half living.
I crave release, a relief from this continuous anguish.I yearn to break free from the chains that bind me, to enjoy life without the bitter aftertaste of pain.
“Thank you,” I manage to say, my voice steadier than I feel.I’m grateful that it’s time for the last segment of the night.This will all be over soon.Next time anyone thinks about getting together with everyone we’ve met through our entire life, I will say no.
It’s hard, but what’s the alternative, to be tortured?
ChapterFour
Sanford
Momand my well-meaning friends have this knack for dragging me into their matchmaking schemes.It doesn’t matter how many times I explain to them that I don’t need to meetthe one.I had the two already, but it’s over.Sometimes it’s easier just to go on a blind date to appease them.
And because of that, I’m sitting in a quaint bistro located downtown at the heart of a day I’d rather spend elsewhere.This place wouldn’t be my first choice for a first date, but I guess I don’t have a say when I’m forced to be here, do I?
Across from me, there’s a woman—Maggy, Mindy, Nancy?Oh fuck, I forgot.I don’t want to sound like an insensitive asshole, but since I arrived, she’s been chatting away.Her incessant stream of words has blended into a dull buzz in my ears.
I can’t even keep up with her conversation.Earlier, she talked about kale smoothies and then moved on to her job.She’s ...well, I can’t remember, and now ...I’ve lost track of what she’s talking about—again.My thoughts keep sliding back to my empty house, to the silent call of my guitar and its strings waiting for my touch.
I find myself looking at her, but it’s not my date’s face that fills my mind.Sheconsumes my thoughts.These days, her absence is more prominent.Her memories ...there’s just something in the air that keeps her pulling back into my thoughts.I miss her more than before.
She’s so present, I feel like I should search for answers, figure out what really happened to her after ...I don’t even want to think about those days.Those dark days where they were lost to everyone, and we couldn’t find them.To this day, I don’t know exactly what happened.He doesn’t want to speak about it, and she ...well, who the fuck knows where she is?
The bitter pang of loss hits me yet again, like an old friend you never really wanted but keeps dropping by unannounced almost daily.Without warning, a melody known all too well begins to seep from the bistro’s speakers, a song Grey and I had crafted together for her.The notes, like fine silk, ripple through the ambiance, and I’m yanked back into another time.
Two nights ago, a week after we celebrated the Decker triplets’ birthday, I went to him.I couldn’t stay away.It took a lot to respect his boundaries during the concert.But ...I just had to find him because I needed him.When he’s with me, I miss her a little less.
As if on cue, my date squeals with excitement, her words gushing and shrieking.Too shrieky.“OMG, I love this song.Do you know Greyson?I’m such a huge fan.”
I bob my head, my fingers dancing over the cool edge of the butter knife.“Sure, I’ve heard of him.”I fake ignorance.“He’s talented, I guess.”
Her eyes sparkle with hope.“Can you introduce me to him?I mean, you’re famous too, so you must know him.”
