I woke up that morning. My bowl hair cut is a floppy, crazy mess, and my already pale complexion looked even paler. I groaned as I rolled over, expecting to hit Anthony's hard body, but ending up rolling right off the bed. Waking me up instantly.
When will I finally realize he's gone. So far out of my reach, that I couldn't even reach him if I was Helen from the Icredibles.
I pick myself off of the floor, ridden with clothes and garbage. I really should clean, but yet, the motivation never comes. I don't even think motivation exists anymore. Yet sometimes, I can still feel the slow dying light of some. But that is only when I see him. The motivation is only there when I want it to be.
I had been thinking a lot about the last couple years. At first I didn't regret leaving. I actually believed that things were better that I was gone. But in reality I knew that things were only getting worse and worse. Arabella's death already had a great toll on my depression, but not having Anthony by my side to comfort me, and to hold me. Things only went farther and farther down hill. I couldn't manage to climb back up.
That's the problem with love. You fall, and fall, and fall down the hill. Without even noticing you hit the bottom. Things become boring, and you get stuck in the same routine. I got stuck in the same routine, and you break up, but trying to climb back up that hill after the break up.......let's just that the people on The Biggest Loser have it easy. Although Anthony may have had a hill to climb back up, I had a mountain.
I had thought of crazy schemes to win him back. Standing outside of his bedroom window with a boombox playing Peter Gabriel was quickly ruled out after the realization that I was watching way too many 80's movies.
The worst part about the break up for me, had to be the night terrors. Every night I will wake up in a pile of my own sweat. Screaming and crying for him to return to me. But I just breathe, and realize that I was dreaming, and that he'll never come back after what I had done. I got a therpist. Told him about the night terrors, and he prescriped me with medication. But it doesn't do anything for me, I still wake up every night in tears, thrashing in my sheets. Sometimes I curl up in a ball, and just pretend that he's holding me, that he's worried about me. Sometimes it almost feels real, I get so caught up in the act that I don't even notice its just a figure of my imagination. I'll walk around the house and pretend I'm talking to him. I know I need the help, and that's why I went looking for it.
Waking up in the morning was the hardest part of my day. It was when I finally had to face the truth about what I had done. I always thought that maybe one day, I just wouldn't wake up, and I wouldn't have to face the day.
I finally mustered up my confidence enough to slug myself to the kitchen and grab a bowl of old oatmeal. I hadn't been out grocery shopping in months, and I didn't really mind eating the stale crackers, and slowly cleaning all the ravioli out of the pantry in my apartment. The apartment was small, and it was the perfect size for just one person. The contained, and precious space also helped me with not keeping as much garbage, which was a bad habit I had picked up after leaving. The hoarding of garbage used to be much worse, I was almost evicted because of it. That was the only sign of improvement in my life. Getting rid of some garbage. For others, taking out the garbage is a regular chore, but for me, it was like a yearly event.
I had quickly adapted a taste for old, bland foods. I feel like I don't deserve to have all the fun and exciting flavors that it has to offer. I remember Anthony's cooking when I indulge, and it only makes my depression deeper. It is hard to forget someone when they are part of everything you do. It is hard to forget someone that you have loved forever. It is hard to forget. It is hard to love.
Although I never really knew when the stalking began. Perhaps it was when I first found out where Anthony was from YouTube. Perhaps it was when I found myself accidently at Target the same time he was. Or perhaps it was when I cracked. When I couldn't handle it any longer that I went searching for him, without even knowing that I was looking. I knew that it was wrong the moment that it happened. But I just couldn't keep my eyes off of him. I just needed to touch him again. To feel his lips on mine again. To feel his strong arms wrap around me. I needed him now, more than ever. But he was also never this distant. When our eyes met I could feel it. I could feel the tension, but also the passion. The lust. I could feel everything all over again, and perhaps that was why these last couple of days have been hard, because I felt it.
Perhaps the drunken phone call on Valentine's Day was a bit to much, and then going to his house after.....not my best move. But I so desperately need him again. I must have him. It's what I live for, he is what I love for.
I have been sittting on ideas for a long time as to how I was going to get things started again, and it was really hard to finally come up with a good one. But I decided that I would just be friends with him, and maybe, just maybe I could move on. I can finally build my bridge, knowing that I can still love him, but in a more friendly, brotherly way. But the real question is how I am going to contact him, and if he even wants to be friends after what I did to him. I would just call his old cell phone number and see if that worked, if not then I was shit out of luck, because I sure as hell wasn't going to try to talk to him in person just yet.
I picked up my cell phone off the dusty cofffee table. I had charged it before bed last night so it still had quite a bit of battery. I went straight to the contacts and found his name. It wasn't to hard considering his name starts with A, and is the first contact in my phone. I didn't even think about it, I just hit the dial button. It was to late to hang up, I kept telling myself this.
"Ian? Are you drunk again? I swear...I don't have time for this" Anthony said all at once, not even letting me speak. I choked for a moment before finally getting it out.
"No, I am not drunk. I just want to talk, is that so wrong? Can a guy not do that?" I spat out. I knew that was fairly harsh, but I made no attempt to apologize for it.
"Yes it is! You left Ian, a long time ago. What makes you think that you can just call whenever you want like everything is okay? Because it's not." Anthony spat back. I didn't want to get into an arguement, but I guess it was bound to happen at some point.
"I was just calling to ask if we could sort things out. Maybe go out for lunch sometime?" I pleaded that he would say yes.
There was a very long pause before something happened. I could hear him thinking. He would hum, and press his tongue to the roof of his mouth to make a clicking noise. "Fine.....tomorrow, meet me at the Starbucks on King Drive. Noon, not a minute past 12" Anthony quickly hung up after that.
I stood in my spot for almost 10 minutes before I could finally move again. This was happening. It was really happening. I was going to make things better again. Now I just have to pull myself together enough to go outside in public again. That was going to be the real challange.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I woke up the next morning I had a killer headache. But I wasn't going to let it stop me from seeing Anthony. No matter how searing it was, Tylenol was my best friend. Popping two in my mouth and swallowing them dry, before jumping into the shower. I was my mop of hair. The over grown bowl hair cut was getting old, and it had lost it's volume. After jumping out of the shower I dried my face and ruffled my hair with the towel, I grabbed the scissors. It was time once again, to styling my hair up. I cut the mop down really short. I managed to find the gel I used when I styled my hair up many many years before. I looked surprisingly better after my shower.
I didn't have any night terrors last night, which helped with the apperance of my dark circles. I noticed that it was getting around 10:30. I wanted to leave early to avoid the traffic. So I grabbed a bag of crackers for the road. Putting my shoes on and grabbing my keys. But just as I was about to turn the knob of my appartment I turned around, and grabbed the bags of trash, and took them to the garbage chute. It felt good to finally be able to do things again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I walked with a skip in my step up to the Starbucks doors. I could see Anthony sitting inside the shop from the street. He was alone, which I was thankful for. I didn't really want to be confronted by Dave or Kalel, or worse Conscience.
I looked at my watch and noticed that I was 15 minutes early. That means that Anthony was eager to get here too......at least that's what I hoped.
I opened the door to the Starbucks, the bells jingling above my head. But Anthony didn't look over to me, and I could already tell, that I wasn't going to walk out of this place happy.
