reality of love

07

Ever since that day where I went at his house to give him the macaroni, I've been sleeping at his house more often. Occasionally I would shower at his house and wear his t-shirts and boxers. I still went to my therapist and I still had online school, although sometimes I would skip school and therapy when I didn't have energy. I was crying a little less and I even laughed at one of the jokes he made from time to time. I was getting better, after how many years, I was finally getting over my mom's death all thanks to him. I was happy, until today.

My dad called me, saying that he wanted to see me. I was at Cole's house when it happened. He was practicing his guitar while I was painting a picture of him with my art kit from home. We were laughing at something he said and the my phone rang.

"Hi sweetie, it's your father calling. I just wanted to let you know that I'm visiting your house next week. I miss  you."  He said through the phone. I was silent. I didn't cry until thirty minutes later. I threw up about five times when I cried. Cole was there the whole time. He saw everything that happened and he stayed through all of it. He did the same thing when I arrived late at night with the macaroni. He made circles on my back and rubbed my forearm. When I made comments about myself he would say something to battle it. I would say, "I'm stupid," or something like that and he'd reply with, "No, you're not your father is." I didn't believe him though no matter how much he repeated it. I would stay silent for a minute after he said those and he would frown, knowing that I don't believe him.

Helen saw my improvements, "You're glowing," she would comment and smile. I told her about my dad and she advised me to not stay home for a couple of week. "Stay with your aunt," She said but I said no. It was too obvious that I would stay there. So instead, I stayed at Cole's house. I got some clothes from my closet and stayed there for two weeks, waiting for my dad to arrive at my house. My night terrors were back and my panic attacks were worse than before.

My therapy sessions turned into video calls on skype. I begged her for it, she eventually gave up saying no but there was a condition. It had to happen everyday. Although some people might say that's worse than not going out, in my head it was, "Even going to hell would be better than going out, knowing that he's somewhere out there."  Even the thought of going outside made me vomit and cry. I improved a little, but all of that plummeted to the ground when I received that call. Even Cole was affected by it. He slept less, he smiled less, talked less and ate less. And it was all my fault. It felt like I was fourteen again, but this time, the one that was dying was Cole.

I've been contemplating on leaving the house. Just packing up everything and leave to prevent the thing that before happen again. So I packed up my clothes and planned to leave after I was finished.

"You're leaving without even saying goodbye?" Cole's voice coming from the bed. He was obviously awake. He sounded like he was crying and/or shaking. 

I looked back at him, standing in the middle of the hallway to the stairs. He was still laying down but you could tell he was shaking. "I don't want to make you sad, Cole."

"Well you're making me more sad by leaving me." 

I walked over to him, laid on my side of the bed and cried. I cried until I couldn't no more, again. He might not admit it but he cried with me. Hearing the sobs coming from my left side. I grabbed him chin and forced him to look at me. He was crying.

"Cole I'm leaving because of this," I pause. "I'm leaving because I can feel you dying already, I don't want you to die Cole." I basically whisper the end part.

"I'm not dying on you Eden, I promise you that," He says, determined. He has stopped crying now. Now he just cuddled me until I calmed down.

I didn't end up leaving, convinced that if I leave my dad will knock on my door and I'll open the door, thinking that it's someone else. I stayed here and waited for the time that Cole will grow tired of my sadness and make me leave.