3:00 PM
I lean against my door, key still in hand, feeling my eyes overflow with tears. I let the tears fall, my back sliding down the door until I'm sitting on the floor. Every memory with George comes flooding back, and with each memory, it gets harder to breathe.
I don't take the few moments that the memories of George isn't clouding my mind for granted, so I slowly carry myself to my bedroom. My body feels heavy, probably from the weight of stress that's been thrown upon me from seeing George. I sloppily throw my suitcase onto my bed, staring blankly at it for a moment. It's clear to me I have to make George see exactly what he's been missing out on. I want him to take one look at me, and have it feel like an immediate punch in the face. It's not mature, but neither is abruptly leaving someone after two years with no explanation.
I open the suitcase with a sudden grin tugging at my lips and I scramble through the contents in the bag, pulling out a soft, formfitting grey turtleneck sweater and a pair of black skinnies. I set the jeans and sweater on my bed, then start pulling off my multiple layers of clothing and throwing them to the side along with my shoes. After I pull on the sweater and jeans and slip on a pair of brown ankle boots, I grab my phone and key and make my way out of my apartment, making sure to lock the door.
I turn to face George's apartment door, gripping my phone tightly as I step towards it. Taking a deep breath, I knock on his door. George opens the door almost immediately. He steps aside, allowing me to come in. I walk in hesitantly, unsure of what to say. He gestures to his couch and I take a seat, as does he.
"So.. Why'd you leave?" Great conversation starter, Corinne, really. I wince at my own words, looking to George.
George has his hand on the back of his head, his mouth open as if he's trying to find a way to speak. "Seizures." He says softly, and I can barely hear it.
"What?" I ask, though I know what he said.
"I got, still get, seizures. Really bad ones caused by stress. And at one point they got so bad I had to be transferred to New York to a better hospital. I didn't want to tell you and make you think any less of me. I didn't want pity. By the time I knew how to tell you, I'd been smacked onto a plane to New York and at that point I knew you'd hate me, so I didn't make an effort in calling."
I sit there, not sure what to say. I look at George again, this time noticing what I hadn't before. The tired eyes with dark bags underneath, the messy hair, the sad smile. My chest grows heavy and the corners of my lips pull downward slightly, and he notices immediately.
"I'm sorry I never told you about the seizures, Corinne. I've regretted not telling you for a long time. I've regretted leaving, and not having you around." George says softly, playing with his fingers. I reach over and put my hand over his, smiling at him.
"I'm around now." I say quietly, squeezing his hand.
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This chapter is hecka bad due to my writer's block but thankfully my amazing friend @vesseled helped me with it so thank you baby!!!
Song - Landslide (Fleetwood Mac)
