Fell In Love In Stages // a matty healy fanfic

1st Stage of Grief: Denial

Firebird: St. Louis, Missouri

*t/w: drugs*

Back in my RV, I grabbed my bottle of whiskey and poured myself a tall glass, even though a glance at the clock revealed the day to be still younger than noon.
I'd sunk to a new low, that much was clear.
It had been over a year since I last saw her.
But try as I might, I couldn't figure out what else I could've done. It wasn't as if I'd meant to hurt her, and I certainly hadn't stopped, pondered, and then decided Oh yes, I do believe I shall act like a cunt, but even though my reactions had been swift and unconsidered, I didn't see how I might have behaved any other way.
I knew myself. I didn't always— or these days even often— like myself, but I knew myself. And when she walked away, she'd shattered me to my very soul.
She didn't know to what extent.
She couldn't have.
Fuck her, I think. She left me in the first place, remember?

And so, as I stood in my RV, my body taut with misery and guilt, I realised two things.
The first was easy. The whiskey was doing nothing to ease my pain. And if this whiskey that was older than half the girls I slept with couldn't make me feel any better, nothing was going to do so.

Which leads me to the second, which wasn't easy at all. But I had to do it. Rarely had the choices in my life been so clear. Painful, but painfully clear. And so I set down my glass, two fingers of the amber liquid remaining and I walked down the living area into the bathroom.
I locked the door behind me and took out the brown substance stashed in a metal box alongside the other paraphernalia hidden beneath the sink.

Fuck it.