Dancing With Keenan

Chapter Seven - Crushed

My head was splitting, and the bleating alarm didn't help any. I reached for the source of the irritating tone, and in a spectacular display of stupidity, flung my cell across the room. It clattered against the wall before landing on the floor.

"Shit!"

I jumped out of bed, nearly falling as dizziness overtook me, and rushed to my phone. It was unharmed, thanks to a very expensive case I'd been smart enough to purchase with the phone.

I shut off the alarm and stumbled through a hot shower, for once not even noticing the scars that usually caused such turmoil to my emotions.

A few cups of strong coffee and a few painkillers later, I was starting to feel like myself again.

Breakfast helped even more, and by ten, I had fully recovered from my hangover and was ready to start my day.

I played through the song I had written Friday, edited it, and played through it again. It was well past noon when I finally finished editing and transposing it, and my fingers were bloodied yet again. It was in the bathroom, while cleaning up my fingers, that I realized I was still wearing the ring.

My blood ran cold at the sight, and I wondered how I hadn't noticed it all morning.

Tears stung my eyes.

Why had I even put the damn thing on to begin with?

Oh, that's right, drunk Delilah's judgement sucks. 

I shook my head in disgust.

Anger started to rise up in me, but this time, instead of feeling like a welcome relief from the depression, it just sickened me. It was that self-loathing type of anger that only served to make me feel worse in every way, and sometimes I thought that I preferred the depression and numbness.

But it was enough to rip at the raw scabs of my heart, and I ripped the ring off my finger before tossing it into my bedroom, rubbing the skin of my knuckle raw in the process.

My hands tightened into fists, and moments later, the anger subsided, only to leave a deep sadness behind.

I gripped the edge of the counter as tears welled in my eyes.

How had things gone so horribly?

Get it together, I told myself.

I couldn't keep agonizing over what had happened.

Two years was long enough. I shouldn't still be like this; that part of my life was over and gone. I could never get it back, no matter what I tried.

I just had to convince my heart of that fact.

Even after all this time, a stubborn part of myself refused to let go. It was like I just couldn't leave it - them - in the past.

I let out a sigh and returned to my living room. Honey Bun hopped into my lap, and I stroked his head softly.

The red scrape on my finger mocked me, proving that I still wasn't over Keenan, that I still couldn't put the past to rest.

Bittersweet memories snuck into my mind, and for once, I didn't have the energy to fight them off.

"Damn, Lilah," he commented, looking at the torn and bloodied skin of my fingers. "Why didn't you stop?"

"Had to finish the song."

"You overdid it."

"It was worth it," I stated, pulling my hand back and stepping into the bathroom to clean up.