losing you; gbd{rewritten & edited}

letter #10 [edited]

June 24th, 2017

2:10 am

letter #10

Two days ago, I almost died.

As I'm sitting here writing this, there's a hospital bracelet on my wrist, a bag of alcohol and vomit-soaked clothes in a bag by our bedroom door and Ethan in the now-clean living room on Grayson watch.

Apparently I'm not trusted enough to be left alone. Weird right?

In the forty-something odd hours between the last letter I wrote and June 22nd, I had been to sleep a grand total of four hours. All I could do was simply look at the ceiling of a bedroom that used to feel like home and let my mind run wild with thoughts of you.

I hadn't shaved in a month, hadn't showered in three days and couldn't even begin to remember the last time I ate something. The sadness that surrounded every inch of my being was consuming even deeper than it had been before, and I felt so utterly helpless it began to gnaw at my insides.

I had gotten out of bed for the first time in hours, maybe days, made my way out of our room. I walked to the fridge, grabbing a bottle and downing it in one gulp. My mind was full of everything and nothing all at once. My head pounded relentlessly, and no matter how much water I drank, the pain never ceased.

At that point, I was beginning to believe that's how the rest of my life would feel. It felt like no matter how much time had passed, the pain would never stop.

On their own accord, my eyes fell to our bay window. The place we used to sit and talk about anything and everything. The place that felt like it was hand crafted specifically for us. I remember the way the bile rose in my throat, how my eyes started to burn, and how my thoughts started to spiral as a perfectly clear picture of you, right there in our spot, rose in my mind and how I looked away so fast my neck hurt.

I remember feeling such excruciating pain. I remember everything piling on me in that moment, making me regret ever coming out my room in the first place.

I closed my eyes, hastily wiping away the tears that fell, and speed walking out of the kitchen. While passing the living room I tripped slightly, causing my foot to bump one of the book cases, sending the things on top of it tumbling to the ground. I winced slightly, before moving to pick up what had fallen.

I wish I would have just left them on the floor.

The first thing my hands picked up was a black, metal picture frame that had slid to the middle of the hardwood floor, face down. I shouldn't have looked, I felt it in my gut the moment I touched it. I should have left it there for Ethan, or maybe even for me to clean on a different day. That day I wasn't equipped to be visually reminded of you. That day everything was too much.

But no matter how much I tried to walk away, I bent down and grasped the frame in my hands anyway. My heart shattered, right then and there, seeing the picture that sat inside.

We were out with our friends that night, just driving around the city. We had gotten out to look at the stars in the meadow we had accidentally stumbled upon. They were running around aimlessly, laughing and screaming under the starry nighttime sky.