The Process of Losing & Gaining

10.Baby Girl, I'm Not Your Type

There are so many things I no longer wish to understand. I've spend my adolescent years understanding the pain of losing someone who is like your other half; what it's like to have your parents drop you off at a rehab center and not care to support you. Now, at twenty two years old, I understood what it was like to have someone who just wanted forgiveness from me be placed six feet under.
I don't believe I can blame myself for Max's self-destruction, but I could have given him the one thing he asked for. When I met with Max the last time he asked me to forgive him; that he wanted to be better.
"I don't know right now." I said, playing with my sleeve. "I need time."
"I get it just can you please think about it, for me."
I couldn't forgive him in that moment. I don't know if I would if he hadn't gone home and overdosed. A part of me is mad that he said he wanted to be better yet still ended up getting high. A more rational part understands 'Rome wasn't built in a day.'
Despite all the bad times we shared, we still had a few good times even though most of them we were high. He wasn't a bad guy, he just made a lot of bad decisions.
Being at his funeral was so different from being at Rosa's. I couldn't stop crying then but now I was somber. He wasn't a part of my every day life anymore but he was still someone who used to be. I used to hear his voice and his laugh. He used to hug me and make me laugh. He would tell me I would be okay, that I could go on with out her. He was there for me and I couldn't be when he just needed someone to have faith in him.
I asked Mike to come with me. I couldn't face his mother alone and I felt it was only right that Mike be here. He knew more about Max and I than anybody else, even Jaime who understood why I hadn't asked him. Mike was amazing. He helped me dodge everyone's questions about Max's drug problem and get onto the topic of Max himself. I didn't want to paint a bad picture of him because I did have more faith in him than his addiction to drugs. We were in the final moments of lowering his casket and Mike hugged me making me feel much stronger than I was. I wanted to cry but I had to be strong for his mother.
I looked over to her. It was so heartbreaking watching a mother have to bury her son. He was too young to die. She was too young to worry about death and so was I. That's the whole point isn't it? Death doesn't always come with age and it's a tragedy we all try to make less painful by putting a smile on our faces.
Once everyone that wasn't family started to disperse, Mike started to move me along. I shook my head, stopping him. He gave me a questioning look but he let me go off on my own. I walked over to his mother wrapping her small frame in my arms. She cried on my shoulder for a few minutes and I'd be a liar if I said I didn't cry too.
"He told me the day that he died that he wanted to be better. That he hated how he made you feel." I told her. It was the truth and I felt like she needed it. "He loved you and he just wanted to make you proud." She looked up at me with the faintest smile on her lips.
"He cared for you too. He cared for you more than his father does for me. He never used the word love because he's a boy but the way he looked at you in high school was something special. I know he made a mess of your life but he believed he was helping you and wanted you to be happy." I was slightly taken aback. I never believed he could care for anyone but his mother. I nodded as my speechless response. Her sister walked up to her telling her they had to go. I gave her another hug and told her to keep in touch.
"What did you two talk about?" Mike asked as he drove me to his apartment where my car was.
"Remember how I left when we were all at Vic's the day that Max died?" I asked him in response. He nodded his head slowly. "I saw him. I went to talk with him and he asked me to forgive him he said he wanted to get better like I had and he was sorry for ever hurting me."
"I'm assuming it didn't turn out well, considering." He stated. He had no surprise in his voice.
"Mike, pot and drugs are different. They really aren't the same thing. There is an addiction to drugs. It actually turned out okay. I told him I needed time to be able to forgive him." I defended.
"I'm sorry." His voice was sincere and I took a breathe to calm myself down. I was a little over sensitive about it but could you really blame me? We just left his funeral. I didn't speak up until we reached the house.
"Ya know, his mom said he screwed up my life. I don't believe he did." I confessed to Mike.
"Why do you say that? All through rehab you blamed him." I nodded at him.
"I did but I chose to do drugs he never pressured me. He just asked." I sighed . "Even if I can really blame him for having them and letting me have them, it was still me. Either way, if things would have been different I wouldn't have gone to rehab and I wouldn't have met you." I got out of the car, only slightly mad and slightly embarrassed when I walked into the house to hear Vic talking into his phone to a conversation that seemed pretty private. He turned around, looking at me with wide eyes.
"Okay, just give me a call when you get this please." He then hit the end button on his phone. "Hey, Iris. How are you feeling?" He walked up to me wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
"It's weird really. I don't think it's real yet. It doesn't feel real yet." I confided in him. "What about you? Was that the girl you were talking about?"
"Yeah. Well, her voicemail anyway." Vic's eyes saddened and I could feel it tugging at my heart. Mike came inside just to head to the fridge and grab a beer.
"You up for Dead Island?" Mike asked Vic. Vic looked unsure. He seemed like he really needed to talk so I answered before he could.
"Why don't you play and when we're done he can help you kick zombie ass?" I offered. Mike shrugged heading to the living area to presumably play xbox. "How come she won't answer your calls?" I asked turning back to Vic.
"I fuc.ked up, bad. I don't know if I can fix it and I know I haven't known her that long but god she is just something else entirely." He seemed surprised, maybe at how he felt or maybe for telling me.
"Maybe she just needs some time. What do you think you did?" He put one hand over the other and gave me a 'not so innocent' smile.
"I may have punch one of her friends in the face." He revealed his hand for me to see the purple and blue on his knuckles.
"God, Vic you could have broke your hand." I stared wide eyed as I took his hand to examine it further. "Why did you do that?"
"I thought he was trying to take her from me and I was so wrong. He's gay. I couldn't have been more of an idiot and a jerk. I just feel so stupid. I don't know what to do. I keep calling just to apologize and she never answers. I've left her over twenty messages. Am I just being obsessive?" He had so much emotion stirring on his face and in his eyes.
"Honestly, I don't know how she feels but if jai-" I stopped myself in the middle of saying his name, we didn't want to make it official yet. We only had a few 'dates' and didn't want to let anyone know in case it didn't work out, "Anyone I dated hit my friend I'd be mad at least for a while. She may just need time. I don't think it's wrong of you to want to make things better but she may not be ready yet, ya know?" I shrugged. I didn't really feel in the place to give advice considering I had never been in a situation but I tried my best.
"I guess you're right. I just care about her a lot. She's so different from every girl I've met." I liked knowing that Vic was comfortable talking with me, sharing his problems. I wanted to be as helpful as I could. Since I couldn't do anything about this girl's feelings, I did the next best thing.
"Write about it, ya know? You've got an amazing gift that not only creates music, it helps you express who you are and maybe getting lost in yourself is what you need. You can't wait for her to respond to get move forward. You have to do it yourself."
"I guess your right." He spoke softly, sighing before he spoke again. "Right now, I just wanna kill some zombies. What do you think about that?" He asked me, a small smile on his face.
"The zombie scum must die!" I proclaimed jumping forward in the direction of where Mike was. Vic laughed at me and as he shook his head and placing his hand between my shoulder blades so guide me to the Xbox.
For the rest of the day we played video games. I even got a few short turns until I was the reason Mike died because as much as I'd like to pretend video games are easy, they aren't.
I was really starting to feel like a real part of this group of weirdos; I wouldn't have it any other way.