Repression ▶ M•C ▶ 2/3

Chapter 70

                  

The next few days all kind of merged into one long period of time where I couldn't function at all. From being completely rejected by Michael I just turned off everything up to the point where I would just watch the world from my window and refuse to move. It hurt, oh god the pain in my chest when a random memory of my dad made my stomach tighten and churn as if I was about to throw up, but I hadn't eaten anything to be regurgitated. I wasn't even tired, all I could do was keep my eyes open and stare at walls constantly. I was bottling it all up, pushing it all down but I wasn't in a hurry to cover it up. I wanted Gwyn to be here when I exploded, being back in this house, after spending such a long abroad made me feel guilty, sat here on the floor in the same spot Michael was more than a year ago. This place no longer felt like my home, it was just one big house in a rainy country where I grew up. My home is living with Brad, spending my day working in the coffee shop with Ben, long phone calls with Gwyn in the middle of the night so we can talk from different time zones, not here.
I wanted to get out of here, go for a walk and clear my head, as much as I missed my father and I wanted to spend the rest of the day wallowing in my self-pity, he wouldn't want me to sit on the floor in sweatpants and not do something productive to try and make grieving less painful.

I pulled myself off the floor and the muscles in my legs were stiff from not moving for two days. I put on a fresh pair of jeans mother had washed for me and one of my old shirts I had left here before moving away. My mother grieved in a completely different way to me, instead of lying around do nothing she refused to sit down. She has cleaned the house from top to bottom at least five times since we came back from the hospital and had washed all my clothes. I was worried about her; as much as I had grown to dislike her over the years she was still my mother, and she had lost the man she had been married to for forty years, that's got to hurt way more than being rejected by someone you were in love with for only two. I opened the bedroom door and treaded lightly across the hallway, standing by the top of the stairs and looking down at the spotless house.

We walked together hand in hand, along the darkened hallway, the music completely consuming us as we arrived at the top of the stairs. I stared down and squeezed his hand tighter, as we both looked down at the swarms of people dancing in such a small space. You couldn't even make out their faces; it was just a blur of black shadows and luminous neon paint. I was starting to see a reoccurring pattern, everyone had this paint covering their entire bodies, perhaps there was a theme to this party I was unaware about, good thing I wore black. I couldn't see anyone I recognised; I couldn't see anyone at all. But we carried on walking, the faceless crowd was growing, all I could see was people dancing, filling the hallway, the kitchen and the living room. Our friends we in one of these rooms somewhere, we just needed to find them.

"I'm going out" I shouted from the open front door. No one replied so I assumed that mother couldn't hear me from over the noise of the washing machine or was too busy ironing to notice me. I shut the door behind me and walked along the gravel driveway and along the pavement. It was cloudy and grey, the chances of rain while I would be out was likely but why the fuck would I make the effort of bringing an umbrella, I'm British, and it's basically a free shower. I wasn't sure where I wanted to go, there were only a few places I could remember the way to but even then I wanted to go somewhere I felt safe at. When I think about it, and I try and imagine what would have happened if Karen hadn't died or if I hadn't have left them, maybe it would be Michael and I getting married, and everything would be perfect. But then a part of me is happy I made the choice to leave because then I wouldn't be as independent as I am now, I know what direction I want my life to go in an back then I had no idea. Sometimes these things happen for a reason and this was how it was supposed to work out. Of course I still love him; I care more about his entire existence than my own. There is always going to be something between us, you can't just go from being hopelessly in love with someone to feeling nothing at all, it takes time to get over something like that. It has been over year and I'm afraid that it will still be a long time before I could ever picture myself with anyone else.

"I was on my way over" There was a voice from behind me and my feet stood still. I hesitated to turn around, I didn't want to be disappointed if it wasn't the person I thought it was or this was all in my head. "I forgot to say how much I liked you hair, something about brown makes you look more poised" I knew this was no hallucination and spun around with a smile on my face. A few metres away, in a long black coat and a pair of sunglasses nested in her long dark hair, was my best friend, staring at me with a cheerful grin on her face. "You have no idea how much I have wanted to see you" I gushed, taking a step in her direction. She scoffed and rolled her eyes sarcastically. "I have that effect on people" She smirked, also walking towards me. "Has Michael said anything?" I said timidly. She shook her head and frowned. "They're in America the last time I called Calum, I have never seen them so busy" She sighed. We were stood toe to toe by now, our eyes never leaving the other face. "Gwyn" I started to cry suddenly. "My dad is dead" I put my hand on my face to hide my outburst. She pulled my hand away and opened her arms, pushing me into them and wrapping her hands tightly around my back. She smelt of fresh fruit, her hair was so soft against my cheeks that I never wanted to pull away. "It's alright though, you still have your best friend in the whole wide world to get you through it" She rubbed my shoulder up and down, whispering sweetly into my ear. "I'm not leaving you"