One Hundred Sleepless Nights

5

~ five years earlier~

My black dress is almost as short as my hair - a cut I gave myself two days before for no reason other than wanting a change. It was a 3am cut, after hours spent crying. I got up from my bed which I called my sanctuary and grabbed some scissors and before I could stop myself I cut a solid eight inches off. No ones said anything but I know everyone is thinking it. The sad girl went and cut her hair to feel like she has control over at least something because God knows I don't have any other control over life right now.

There's a sudden light knock on my door. I'm assuming Jaime. He shouldn't be back yet but go figure he'd come check on me.

"Yeah?" I ask, my voice drowned with sadness.

The door opens to reveal Chris- Jaime's best friend since he was 12. 

"Hey." he says softly as he comes into the room, closing the door behind him. "You okay? That wasn't easy."

I nod. "I'm good."

Chris has been great lately. He's been around nonstop helping out where he can and being there to listen when everything gets overwhelming, and this week and a half has been crazy overwhelming.

He comes and sits on the bed with me, throwing an arm around my shoulders. His warmth gives me comfort that I've been craving for weeks now.

"Your dad would've loved the funeral." Chris says to me. "You did great."

My eyes start tearing up at the thought of my dad. It was an unexpected passing. One day he was fine, then he went to the doctors for a checkup and got diagnosed with an aggressive cancer, one that he wouldn't bounce back from. They gave him a month but he didn't even end up making that timeframe, passing away just two weeks after his diagnosis. My mom fell apart completely which meant I had to step up and plan everything. I went through his accounts, moving money where we needed it, I went through hours of calls with banks, insurance companies, the funeral home, you name it. I planned the entire funeral, from the first word to the last song. All with a dress that's too short and hair that's too choppy and a heart that's too broken.

"I can't imagine how you feel right now.' Chris mutters beside me.

"Broken." I say, not even trying to dilute the feelings.

"Hey, you're not broken." he says, pulling me tighter into him. "You're just struggling right now."

"Feels like I'm drowning in it." I admit.

I stare blankly at the floor, unable to reach into myself and find something good worth feeling. It all feels black. Black and hollow.

"Its temporary, Alia. You just lost your dad, all you're going to feel is grief."

"I just want to feel something else even if its for a minute."

"You will, just be patient." he says, squeezing me.

He shifts against me and it hits me. Chris is a good looking guy and he's so caring and nice. He also feels really nice and warm next to me, not to mention he smells great as well. I can't feel grief if I'm focused on him.

I lift my eyes to meet his. They're a soft brown colour, so sweet and caring. They search mine looking for a clue as to what I'm feeling.

I swallow hard then quickly make my move, my lips landing on his warm ones. For a second he tenses up, not sure if we should do this or not, but then he opens himself up to me and I know that I'm in. He knows I need this. I think he needs this too. Neither of us have any intention of stopping what I've just started.

Our kissing quickly escalates and within minutes we're tangled up together, not a single care in the world.

We stay like this for so long that we both lose track of time. After a couple orgasms we both collapse, exhausted from what we've done and the emotional turmoil that's been churning for weeks now.

"I should go." Chris says against my neck. He doesn't move though, he stays wrapped up against me.

"Don't leave me now." I say softly. I know its manipulative but I need this right now. 

"I have to." he says and finally peels himself off from me.

I watch from the bed as he puts his clothes back on. 

His all black attire. 

From the funeral. 

For my dad. 

"Come back in bed." I say suddenly feeling very small and alone.

"I don't want to, but what if-"

His what if is cut off by the door opening. Essentially, his what if is about to become a reality that both of us aren't ready for. A what if that will ruin everyone's relationship with one another in this room.

Jaime stands in the doorway looking at us as if we've just shot him. His usually happy self is stoic in a way that I've never seen before. His face is whiter than it's ever been. The momentary happiness I got from Chris is now replaced by complete and utter regret and dread.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jaime says, his voice dripping with sourness. "What the fuck is this?"

"Jaime, man I'm so sorr-" Chris starts but Jaime cuts him off.

"I don't want to ever fucking see you again." Jaime says to Chris, his eyes staring daggers into him.

Chris is still adamant about his apology, though. A mistake on his part. Jaime doesn't often get angry but when he does, he stays angry for a loooong time.

"It just happened." Chris says. "It was a grief induced mistake."

Jaime laughs a dry laugh. "Grief? You hardly knew the fucking guy."

"I saw him more than you did in the last month." Chris says bluntly.

Jaime was on tour when I had to call him and tell him the news. Of course he came back as soon as he could for me, but I know Jaime feels like he should've been here the entire time. Its something he'll regret forever and Chris bringing it up is a low blow and we all know it.

Instantly Jaime's fist flies out and catches Chris in the eye. Another hit comes and gets him in the same eye, a brutal hit that reaches his nose at the same time.

"JAIME!" I yell. "Stop it, you're hurting him!"

He turns his gaze to me now, his eyes seeming to get darker.

"Fuck you, Alia." he says. "I don't want to see you ever again either. I'm fucking done with you."

"Jaime, please." I plead. "You can't cut me out of your life."

He shakes his head at me like I'm just some pathetic girl. I guess I am.

"Everyone always said you were a whore, but I never thought you'd stoop this fucking low." he says gesturing to Chris who is covering his injured eye. "I don't want to see either of you again. You're both out of my life. Forever."

He turns abruptly and leaves, slamming the door closed on his way out. Chris and I are left together to deal with the emotional aftermath of what we've done.

In the span of a week and a half I've lost the two people I was closest to and even though Jaime didn't die like my dad did, it really feels that way and the only person I have to blame is myself.