1.2 The Chronicles of Us - Rewound & Retold

Chapter forty-one

There it is ... that weight on my chest that makes it hard to breath. It always happens when I least expect it. Right when I start to notice that the sky is blue instead of black. Darkness rolls in, washing over me like waves. At times like these, I usually find an outlet in alcohol or drugs—or both. An escape from my own thoughts.

Thoughts that I don't wanna speak out loud. Thoughts that are not per se about being ready to die, but more about not being ready to live.

I suppose, the feeling isn't exactly unexpected. Ever since my confession last week, depression has been tugging at my thoughts. This morning, though, when I pulled Ellie's sleepy body in my arms, I thought today was gonna be the day I'd get that happy feeling back.

I look at Axel and Joey, who are playing a game of red hands, and can't fight the sensation of displacement. I wanna laugh with them but don't have the energy.

I sigh and get up from the sofa I laid sprawled across. "Guys, I'm leaving early today."

Joey looks my way. "Again? If you're having an affair with another band, I have to warn you, I've killed for less."

Axel snorts. "Aren't you a pacifist?"

"True." Joey shrugs his big shoulders. "I guess, I could always hug him to death."

I manage half a chuckle and then slide my jacket on. "See you guys later."

When I'm halfway through the door, Axel says, "Seriously, Tex, where are you going?"

Fuck. Can't tell them about my sad strolls. "Oh—uhm—Ellie and I are ... redecorating. Gotta pick up some ... paint?"

They don't seem to have noticed my stammering. "All right," Axel says, "but we're expecting an invite when it's done. I'm sure Ellie's forcing you to paint the walls a lovely shade of pink."

They laugh some more and I leave the studio. That lie is gonna be a pain in the ass. Now I actually have to redo the apartment. Well, I'll save that problem for another day.

Mounted on my bike, I drive around for a while, trying to think of a place to go. The beach didn't help yesterday, nor did my trip to Santa Monica the day before. Somewhere closer to home, perhaps. Echo Park?

I turn onto Glendale Boulevard and make my way over there. With leisure, I walk around the lake and observe the visitors. Some happy couples, some with children. A young man kicks a ball around with his daughter while his wife cheers them on, holding their infant son. It's a completely normal scene, yet alien to me. In fact, I'm more comfortable with the homeless encampment I passed earlier.

I'm a fucking joke, sitting here by lonesome in hopes feeling a little better. Ellie's a fun-lovin' girl, she deserves someone who can make her laugh. I'm not that person. Not now. The evidence is clear. Her lips have taken a more neutral position these last days. Not once did I witness a brighter-than-the-sun smile. It's because I'm making her sad. I know I am.

For some time, I thought her light would cast away my clouds, but they're closing in now, affecting us both.

I want her to leave, for her sake, yet I need her to stay, for mine. At least, with her I have a chance at an occasional sunny day. Without her, though, I'll be stranded in the downpour. Alone, once again.

Don't get me wrong, I like Axel and Joey—they've become my best friends—but there's always a barrier between us. One that I purposely keep in place. A measure to prevent them from coming too close. It's different with Ellie. She knows me through and through. Apart from everything I keep from her, of course.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I take it out. My heart does that skippy thing when I see Ellie's name. She sent me a text. "Chicken Parmesan or stir-fry for dinner?"