Take Me Away | ✓

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P H O E N I X

Sometimes I could sleep perfectly fine. Usually when I had too much to drink that I point blank passed out but that always led to a hangover in the morning. There were other, rarer times though, when I didn't drink - when I had someone beside me that I slept soundlessly.

Dr Meyer told me something about there being comfort in having someone by my side. She asked if I was in a relationship and a lot of other questions. After the first session with her, I began to be less suspicious and talk more. It didn't seem so frightening anymore, opening up. It was actually kind of nice. Dr Meyer was nice.

I still didn't like her office or the view outside her window but I began to like her. I told her about my drinking, how sometimes it would come as naturally as drinking water. She asked when it started but I couldn't give a straight answer. I felt like I'd been doing it my whole life but I did say I thought it began to intensify after Matt's death. Mostly when I was sad, I was a sad drinker.

She didn't jot down any notes, just waited for me to carry on and I did to fill in the silence. As the sessions went on, I peeled away layers of myself slowly. And it was fine because whatever I shed in that room would stay in that room and come back up when I left.

I remember I had been sober for three days and when I told Dr Meyer she'd congratulated me. After that, I felt ridiculously pleased with myself but it came to an end that same day when Kaden walked past me at the Blitz.

I was being sensitive, I admit that much, but I also needed it. When I got home I saw a bright yellow sticky note stuck on the cupboard door that held the wine. In red sharpie was the address of the place dad was staying. I knew that it was Kat who'd done this and was about to throw the note into the trash when I looked at it again.

I thought about something Dr Meyer had said in one of our sessions. I'd always considered myself as somewhat confident but according to her, that didn't always mean that I was straightforward. It was true that I held back when talking to my dad that day at the Blitz. There was more I wanted to say. Or rather, I wanted to hear his answer to something I said. His real response.

I went up to my room and opened up a can of beer that was a couple days old. I sat on my bed and stared at the address and stared some more. The bottle was half empty by the time I stood up and went don't to grab my bike. I threw the remainder of the beer into the trash and began pedalling.

-

I didn't know what I would say when I saw him. Hello, would be a good start but what then? I ran multiple greetings over in my head, trying the find the right one but all my attempts seemed futile. More than once, I turned my bike round intending to go home and crawl under my covers but then I turned back. If I didn't do this now then I never would.

I paced back and forth in front of his door, circling a total of 16 times before summoning the courage to knock on the door. I heard shuffling on the other and a second later it opened.

"Phoenix." He breathed, unshaven and looking like he just woke up from a long slumber. "Come in."

Without even saying hello I passed the threshold to where he'd been staying. The place was a mess. There were day old takeaway cartons and empty soda cans scattered around. One was on the little table in the living room, half drunk.

"Sorry about the mess." He grabbed a pizza box and stacked it on top of another then went around doing the same to the others. Once the space was less cluttered he motioned for me to sit but I shook my head.

"I won't be here long. I just wanted to ask something."

He sat on the armrest, rubbing his palms across his sweatpants in a nervous gesture. "Go ahead."