Tequila & Birdcages

I care |tammy|

CW: depression

Have you ever been surrounded by people and still felt alone? Yeah, that's the story of my life. So when I joined the group of women I thought—finally I can breathe. I figured this was my chance to be a part of something, something good. Granted, yes, it was to commit a crime but I mean good for me.

And, for a while, it was. Then the job was over and I was faced with everything again. The heist granted me the privilege of setting my personal things aside. I had a responsibility, an obligation to the team; I couldn't screw it up by worrying about my own problems. So I momentarily forgot they existed, until things settled down again.

As I lay in the bed I feel consumed by, well, everything. I was ok for a few days after because of the celebration that ensued. Now I'm just left alone with my thoughts and it's hit me all at once. I feel weak—stupid—for feeling like this. I'm just immobilized while everyone is going about their life like normal.

I'm not upset with them, this is what adults are supposed to do. I've just never felt my age, ever really. When I was younger I felt older because of all the responsibility. Now that I actually have responsibility of my own, I have no idea what to do with it. Unlike everyone else, I don't have a me. A person that will jump in when it becomes too much and help with the load.

I'm expected to just know what to do and how to act. I just don't know how to 'fix' this or what to do to make it better. I'm a good person—at least I try to be—and I'm not saying anyone deserves this, because they don't. I just don't understand that out of all people, why me? What did I do to deserve this?

I've done nothing but try to help every person that comes in my path. Then, when I need help, no one seems to know how to react. It's like they think I have all the answers but it's different when it's you. Yes, I can solve everyone else's problems but when it comes to my own, I'm clueless. As if on a loop, my mind stops for a second before running through everything again.

It's like I'm constantly and consistently reminded of all my failures, everything I've done 'wrong'. All my troubles are just laid out for me every day, with no time to even try to think of a solution. A knock on my door interrupts me but only for a moment. It's like when a record skips, it's quiet for a second and there's that scratch sound.

You think it'll halt completely but then it just presses on as if nothing happened. The door creaks and again, the record skips. I just can't lift the needle though, no matter how much I want to. "Sweetheart?" I hear and the record screeches to a stop like a train. I flip over and see Tammy hovering in the doorframe.

She comes in and closes the door softly behind her. "How ya doing?" she asks softly and I just stare at her as if I don't speak or understand English. She sits down and then scoots to lay beside me. "You ok?" she whispers once we're face to face and her breath on my face grounds me. Her presence is like... liquid nitrogen to my brain.

It seems to freeze in her presence and normally that would make me extremely nervous. Yet, in this moment, it's such a huge relief I don't think I could even express it. "Yeah" I whisper back and she narrows her eyes with a small frown showing on her face. She gives me that mom look and I sigh deeply.

"Don't lie, not to me" she demands softly, "does it matter?" I counter. "Of course it matters" she answers incredulously, as if I've just asked the silliest question of the century. "It really doesn't" I insist, I don't know why I'm being so difficult. All I've really wanted is for someone to ask me what's wrong—to notice.

"You say that but I know you don't mean it" she states and that stops me for a minute. It's hard for me to believe that she's not just bluffing or at the very least assuming these things about me. I mean a lot of people must do this and I can't bring myself to think she's actually paid attention enough to figure this out about me specifically.

It'd be foolish of me to believe someone like her would even give a lingering glance towards someone like me. "Who cares?" I sigh tiredly, "I care" she says without hesitation. I stare into her eyes as she lightly smiles at me and see nothing but sincerity. "It's just hard" I shrug, "what's hard, sweetie?" she asks softly.

I take a deep breath, my exhale being shakier than I would like. "Everything" I whisper, she simply pulls me into her arms with my head pressed against her chest. "When everything becomes too much, you can always count on me" she promises, "and I'll be here to listen if ever you feel like you need to get it out" she adds.

I just listen to her words, trying my hardest to believe them. "If you need to yell or just be silent, I'll sit with you" she whispers and I hear her heartbeat thump against my ear as I relax more and more. "And if you need to cry..." I feel her hand come up and caress my cheek, only then do I notice the tears falling of them, "I'll hold you through that too" she finishes.

We lay in silence for a while, her stroking my hair and me listening to her soft breaths. "Thank you" I mumble after several minutes and she simply hums in response. I lift my head a bit and meet her gaze that seems to have been on me the whole time. My eyes drop to her lips and I'm stuck for a moment but for once I don't mind it.

I force myself to look away and meet her own eyes before I get carried away. "You're too beautiful to be so sad" she whispers and my bottom lip pokes out automatically. "A pretty tragedy" I chuckle humorlessly, "then you're my pretty tragedy" she states and I can't help but crack a smile at the prospect of being hers.