Lonely People

And Make It Better

"Anger is like a drug, it makes people do crazy things they'll regret whenever they're sober," Jane smiled at me, "She'll come around, just give her time."

Jane and Paul had both purposefully avoided saying Molly's name. They had watched me spend most of the night before going through waves of intense anger and crippling depression. It was like I was a Newton's Cradle, one marble swung out into one emotion and came slamming the others into the next one.

They had stayed up with me most of the night, only going to sleep when they thought I had fallen asleep. Paul gently laid me in the guest room and left me. They thought I slept, but I never did. I spent the entire night staring at the ceiling thinking the world would end. The sun finally rose to tell me it wouldn't, not yet, at least.

I wasn't angry anymore, nor was I sad. I was simply, there. Nothing more nothing less. I didn't feel I existed. After a night of emotions so intense they could kill a man, I was left with nothing but numbness. Perhaps my emotions did kill me on the inside, I don't know.

Jane handed me a warm cup of tea and sat on the couch next to me. I held the green mug in my hands, staring at the brown liquid without ever making an actual effort to drink. All of my motivation was gone. I was left as a cardboard husk of myself.

"Thanks, Jane," I sighed.

Jane reached over and squeezed my shoulder, "Of course, you're always welcome here."

I sent her a small smile. She smiled back, her hope rising at the sight of my smile. It quickly vanished when I turned back to stare at my tea.

All I could think of was Molly's voice. Her words rattled through my mind all night long. It's like she kept telling me over and over again that she didn't love me anymore. Sometimes it would escalate and I could hear her telling me she never loved me in the first place and there was no chance she would ever love me again. I kept telling myself it wasn't real, but, it was tough to ignore the voices screaming in your head. 

"The pain will go away soon, Amelia, I promise," Jane did her best to comfort me, "The wound is still fresh but, eventually, it will heal."

I shrugged, "I'm not hurting anymore, I don't think. I'm just, I dunno, existing, I guess."

"Numbness is one step closer to healing," Jane said, though I don't think she believed herself.

The bedroom door opened and Jane and I looked up to see Paul step out. He had changed from his pajamas into a button up shirt and black slacks. He and Jane connected eyes for a moment. I watched as they stared at each other, ending with Paul nodding slightly. Jane stood and smiled before heading towards the kitchen.

"Get dressed, Lia, Ringo'll be here in a few minutes," Paul glanced at his watch.

I lifted an eyebrow, "What?"

"We're going to the studio," Paul replied, "You are in the desperate need of a distraction."

"I'm in the desperate need for some sleep, more like it."

"You don't have an option here. Now, get dressed before I drag you out of here in your jammies."

Paul stared me down, smirking ever so slightly. Ultimately, I sighed, abandoning my tea on the coffee table and shuffling off to the guest room. My rucksack was sitting untouched in the corner of the room. Pieces of clothes and a few stray papers stuck out, signs of my rushed packing.

The watch Molly had gotten me hung out of the cup holder in the side. I stared at it for a moment, tears welling up into my eyes. Before it could cause anymore pain, I shoved it into the back of the closet, hopefully to be forgotten with time.