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“Or starving myself or throwing up or cutting.” I sigh. “I don’t have many options when it comes to coping with the pain do I?”
“Or you could just let yourself be happy. You could let yourself be happy with me.”
“We already went over that.”
“No.Wedidn’t go over anything.Youmade up your mind all on your own. There was no we in it.”
“Wes. Please. I’m exhausted.”
“So do some more coke then. Or call up your little fiend and ask him for some more ecstasy or whatever else you’ve been doing. Run from everything good and self-destruct. It’s what you’re good at.” He says. “You avoid anything that could make you happy, so you have an excuse to self- destruct.” I don’t really know what to say to that, so I stay silent. “I wonder if you even really loved me or were you just looking for a reason to hurt.”
“Yeah, because I knew your ex would end up knocked up with your kid.” I snap. I feel the tears sting my eyes.
“It might not be mine!” He snaps back.
“Doesn’t matter.” I retort trying to keep my voice level, but it shakes. “It doesn’t matter. You are right. I love self-destructing and you deserve better than that.”
“So be better then. So, try to be better instead of just giving up. Am I not worth it?”
“I’m not worth it.” I can feel the tears threatening to spill from my eyes. “I’m not worth it, Wes.” I let the tears roll down my eyes. “I’m not worthy of your love. I’m not worthy of thisgift.” I put my hands to my throat. “Or this life or any of this. I’m not worth it.”
He takes my hand in his and tilts my head so I’m looking at him, though my vision is blurry from the tears that are spilling from my eyes.
“Yes, you are. I wouldn’t be here if you were not worth it. You are worth more than you know. You are a talented treasure. You are amazing, a goddess, a miracle. You are worth it, Abbey.”
I sob at his words. I sob because he could tell me this every day for the rest of my life, but I don’t think I’ll ever believe it.
I lean my head back crying harder. “Everything hurts.” I sob out.
He pulls me against him, putting his arm around my shoulder. I lean my head against his arm.
“Everything feels worse because of the withdrawal. It messes with the chemicals in your brain.”
“I felt as light as a feather. I felt better.”
“It was all a lie. It was all an illusion.” He rubs my arm comfortingly.
“I don’t want to do it anymore.”
“I know.” But I wonder if he knows that I don’t want to do any of it anymore. I don’t want to eat, sing, fuck, or breathe anymore. “I know. But you are stronger than you think.”
“I’m so tired.”
“Let’s get you back to bed.”
I lean against him as we move down the bus to my bunk. I feel like my limbs are made of lead still.
He sets me on my bunk, helping me swing my legs on it. I roll onto my side, curl into a ball, and sob into the blanket.
He lies down next to me, putting his arm around me.
“Sh. It’s going to be okay.” He pulls me tight against him. “Let it all out.”
I cry until my eyes burn and sting, until they feel too heavy to keep open. I cry until I can’t cry anymore. Then I just lay there in his arms until sleep overcomes me.
I wake up with Wes’s arm still wrapped around me. I move slightly because I need to pee and possibly drown myself in some water. My mouth is still so dry.
He stirs beside me, removing his arm from around me and stretching. I sit up as he lays on his back.
