The Comedown | Luke Hemmings

Introduction

WARNING: This book contains vulgar usage of language and graphic depictions of content that might be unsettling to some readers.

••••

"When you experience loss, people say you'll move through the 5 stages of grief. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance— What they don't tell you is that you'll cycle through them all every day."
- Ranata Suzuki

••••

Running my hands down the side of my television I
felt the edge for the power button, pressing it off once I had found it. The screen instantly went dark, along with the rest of my bedroom as it had acted as my only source of light until now.

Internally scolding myself over still not being able to find the remote that vanished days ago,  I made my way back to my bed, light on my feet so the floor wouldn't creak too loudly. I wouldn't want to disturb the apartment below me again after receiving three angry text messages from my landlord about how noisy I supposedly am.

"Bullshit." I whispered to myself while getting into bed,  pulling my blankets up to my chin in an effort to warm up some. My slightly opened window let the cool mid-fall air seep into my room.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The rain that was coming down outside acted somewhat like a lullaby to me as I slowly closed my eyes in an attempt to fall asleep, although soon after I was able to realize that this night would once again not be one of those nights.

After tossing and turning for what felt like what could've been upwards of an hour, but most likely was only about twenty minutes, I sat up in bed, giving up on sleep for the moment being.

I ran my hands through the top of my hair in distress before letting out an exasperated sigh. Staring blankly into the darkness in front of me I just felt confused.

I was confused at how this is the third night so far this week that had me feeling this same way. My mind was flooded with every thought at once, but also as empty as it could ever possibly be. Each day that passes where I think that I feel better it's almost as if the next morning I take three extra long steps backwards.

After the feelings of confusion and emptiness fade, the intense anger starts to swiftly move and settle in. Frustration screaming in each ear that never fully quiets down. It comes in waves, usually alongside a buildup of thoughts about the entire situation I was in.

How do you move on after such a heartbreak? How can he be absolutely fine when every day and night since he left I've struggled to even want to exist anymore? I was exhausted. Mentally, physically, and any other possible way that exhaustion can fill you.

It's been a month now since the person I thought was going to be my forever walked out of my life with little to no remorse for the mess he created. I was blindsided and left completely disheveled. How could a month feel like an entire year as well as only just a day at the same time.

I didn't even feel guilty anymore. Everyday I have endlessly battled with myself. I repeatedly tell myself that I am being dramatic and that everyone gets their heart shattered at one point or another. I'm not special. Everyone goes through this. Instead of dealing with the continuous battle I decided to just let the pain overcome me for awhile. I was wasting away too much trying to fight it off and while some advice given to me was to just forget about him and move on, others told me to let myself feel my sadness. So, that's what I'm doing. I'm feeling my sadness. Shouldn't this be good for me?

I reached over to my bedside table and turned on my small lamp. The warm toned, mostly dim light flooded a small portion of my room. The light initially flickered mildly from the faulty cord that connected the lamp to the outlet. Since the lamp was a antique gift from my late grandmother I have a hard time parting with it. Moments later the light had steadied and was no longer flickering.

Before resting back against the headboard of my bed and pillows, I grabbed my already packed hand pipe as well as my go to white lighter that also sat on top of the bed stand in front of the lamp.

I had gotten into the habit of pre-packing my pipe in response to these sleepless nights I keep having. To be completely honest, there hasn't been a night since that I haven't had to take advantage of natures finest sleep aid medicine. It's always good to be prepared.

Sighing once more I lifted the pipe up to my lips, torching the familiar green packed inside the bowl portion of it. Taking my thumb off of the hole on the side of the pipe I simultaneously breathed in letting the smoke fill my lungs to the deepest extent. Holding it in for just a moment, a few seconds later I breathed it out, putting forth my best effort to aim it towards my window.

I needed something to distract me or else sleep wouldn't be an option at all for tonight.

Next to me was my phone. I grabbed it and glanced at the time as the screen lit up.

2:44 a.m.

"Lovely." I muttered to myself in annoyance before placing it back down and taking another hit from my pipe that was still burning from my initial light of it. This time, I failed to aim it towards my window and the smoke displaced throughout my fairly small room before slowly fading away.

The cycle of this night repeated frequently. The conversation of our breakup never really seemed to leave my head completely despite it already being an entire month. I wasn't sure when things would actually start to get better and at this point I wasn't positive if it ever even would. His absence ate away at me like a vulture picks at the remains of animal that has passed on. I wasn't just torn in half, I was torn into hundreds of small pieces that have been scattered around the ground, stomped on, and ultimately shredded.

I'm able to avoid dwelling on the reality of it all quite well during the daytime, but as soon as each night begins to roll in I get catapulted right back to square one.

It was hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that just a few months ago he would've been laying right here next to me, probably fast asleep already. Here I am alone. Nothing but the sound of the rain and my screaming thoughts to fill the void of my head.

His presence was comfort for me. At least it was for the last five years before he decided I was only supposed to be a temporary object in his life, contrary to what he proclaimed to me throughout the bulk of those years.

"Of course we'll be together, I plan on marrying you sooner than later."

"I love you now and always."

"I can't wait for our future together."

Just a few of the proclamations that unfortunately turned out to be a heart-wrenching load of lies.

The thought of him home and in his bed right now sound asleep crossed my mind and only plagued me with even more frustration. Why couldn't that be me? Why am I the one stuck awake right now?

While quickly inhaling what remained in the pipe I reached for my window, opening it wider and lifting the bottom of the screen so I could dump the ashes outside. After getting rid of the ashes I place the pipe and lighter back onto my nightstand and laid back down.

As I was staring up at my blank, white ceiling I felt a tear escape from my eye and I quickly reached up, wiping it away. I wasn't doing that tonight. I blinked a few times as an effort to keep any other tears inside. And with that, a deep breath, and the help of some marijuana I would say it was a success— no crying tonight.

I was unsure of how many minutes had gone by while I just laid there, it had to of been past 3 o'clock by that point. Before I could even realize it my eyes had closed for good that night and I had fallen asleep, the lamp remaining on through my slumber since I was out before I had the chance to turn it off.