Less Than Nothing

Chapter 47

Chapter 47

I didn't eat the soup.

I did try, but a few bites in I was overcome by the same dreaded nausea that hadn't left since I came back from Aruba.

Since we lost Alexander.

I can't exactly describe how I've felt since then. My days have blurred, overtaken by immense shame and guilt.

Grief also.

It all happened so fast...from Alexander's unwanted advances, and his untimely death. Getting fired was somehow the least of it.

Adrienne hated me the moment she found out I'd been seeing Ryan behind her back. I can't imagine what she feels towards me now after I basically ruined Magnolia's wedding.

Never in my twenty two years of life have I wanted to shrivel up and disappear more than I have in the last two weeks. I'm ashamed to occupy space. I don't feel like I deserve to after all the harm I've caused. 

I've been seriously considering leaving New York and moving back home. I was unsure if I could bear to stay after all that's transpired.

After I failed myself, and those around me.

Ryan especially.

Like I told him previously, I can handle blowing up my entire life but I never want to be the person who fucks his up too. And even though he assures me otherwise, I feel awful for roping him into the devastation I've caused. That, and honestly being a shitty girlfriend.

I've been absolutely despondent since we came back from Aruba, being a good partner was the last thing I could've done. I pushed him away, and shut him out during a time that should've brought us closer if anything.

I'm like a goddamn ticking time bomb, but even as I prepare to self-destruct, Ryan is right beside me, awaiting the damage and ready to help me rebuild.

This is seriously foreign to me...that kind of radical, and reckless love. Present in the best of times, but even more so in the worst. I'll never know what I did to deserve it, but everyday Ryan proves to me that I deserve it simply because I exist.

So while I may be unable to stand the sight of myself at the moment, I will force myself to get through this for Ryan.

I will cry, I will grieve, I will hate myself and hate the world, but I will heal, and move forward for him.

Cleaning my apartment would be a good start. I've been so caught up in maintaining basic life functions that cleanliness was the least of my concerns.

If the version of me two months ago saw the current state of my apartment now, she'd punch me in the face. Not to mention the fact that tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and I've not decorated a single thing. I don't even have a tree. Definitely not how I envisioned my first Christmas in New York. I couldn't have dreamt this in my worst nightmare.

Unemployed. Responsible for someone's death. Unemployed.

I won't think too much about it for now. That won't accomplish anything. Instead, I focus on the mess that my living room has become.

For the next hour or so, my body is on autopilot as I fix my apartment back to its usual state. Or attempt to, at least.

I'm organizing all my freshly dried dishes in my cabinets when there's a ring at my door.

I know it's not Ryan because he has a key, but I'm also not expecting anyone today.

For a moment I contemplate ignoring the ring, not equipped to deal with a salesperson of any kind but then the doorbell rings again, and my curiosity gets the best of me.