Fix You ~Completed~

Act Fifty-Three

I skipped school for a week after Kyla died.

Gale and Eddie took turns looking after me when they could, even though I assured them I was actually pretty fine. The latitude lines on my arms didn't start to multiply like all three of us were silently fearful they would, and I didn't consider downing my whole bottle of painkillers (Eddie had them in a lock box under his bed, so that wasn't a possibility in any realm). In fact, I didn't even think about doing either of these things. There wasn't any drive for it. I was okay.

While Ale was working one day, Eddie drove me to my apartment to pack up my stuff and box up Kyla's to send to his parents. "Are you sure you don't want any of this?" Eddie had asked when I shoved Kyla's shirts, pants, weed stash, unused boxing gloves, and other random crap into a box I would eventually hand off to UPS. We were standing in my old bedroom, him organizing the boxes while I decided what to keep and what to toss.

I nodded. "I don't want any of him left behind," I admitted while lifting up his favorite blood-red hoodie. That was the only thing I would keep. My plan was to not tell Ed or Ale it was Kyla's. I wanted to prove I wasn't holding onto the past and keeping his clothing certainly wouldn't help my case of proving that. If they asked, I'd just tell them it was mine. I could say I didn't wear it because it was four sizes too big. Kyla liked roomy clothes, just like me.

Eddie quietly folded the flaps on the box down and taped it shut. "You guys don't have many pictures or anything up. Do you have any photos of you two together?" he asked, looking around our plain bedroom with questioning eyes.

What he said was true; Kyla and I had practically no photographs in our apartment. The only picture that existed of the two of us together, as a couple, was on my phone and too blurry to properly see. I'd taken it on New Years, right before we got into that fight when he admitted he'd been cheating on me since the day we got together. Kyla hated pictures, even if they weren't taken of himself. The only decorations that dawned our walls were a Vodka sign he bought at some pawn shop that hung in the kitchen along with those coffee signs my mom had given me and a poster for the movie Poltergeist that was pinned above the desk in the corner.

"Kyla never let me take pictures," I told Ed, swallowing hard.

A few silent seconds passed. "There isn't anything here that shows a domestic life. It just looks like a bachelor pad with one bed," he pointed out, staring at me sadly.

Domestic? Kyla and I had a domestic life? I never had even realized that, but Eddie was right. We lived together as a technical couple who bought groceries, ate meals together (some nights), did laundry...

We were a family.

I had to sit down. I leaned forwards, holding the hoodie, and promised myself not to cry.

We were a family, I thought excitedly. Kyla and I were a family!

No, no, he didn't want me. He wanted my need.

No, we were a family living a domestic life!

No, we were a broken couple who wasn't even a real couple.

No, he just had problems accepting his love!

No, he hated me. Kyla hated me because everyone hated me. That was what he told me so it must be the truth, right?

"Clemmy, are you alright?"

"No! No, K-Kyla didn't love me, Eddie! I wasted my whole life loving him and he didn't e-even..." I shook, my arms around myself, and sobbed like a child despite my promises not to. "Everything was a lie."

"You don't know that," Eddie mumbled, taking a cautious seat next to me on the bed I'd shared with Kyla for nearly two years. His hand was welcomed as it clasped mine. "Clem, despite what Gale and I believe, it's possible Kyla... loved you."

"It is?" I stammered hopefully.

"It's not likely, but it's feasible I suppose."

"Maybe he loved me, just a little?" Not enough, but a little. I could live with that. I could live with a simple hope that he did love me, even if it was even the tiniest shred of love any human had ever felt for another. That was all I needed.

"You never know, Clemmy," Eddie gave in, rubbing my back.

I lowered the hoodie, staring at it with shame. "I can't keep this," I sighed, fisting the fabric. It had to go into the box.

"Sweetie, you don't have to throw everything away. Kyla was part of your life for a really long time. If you want something of his, then you keep it," he insisted, reaching out to enclose my hands around the hood. I sniffled. "It's just a hoodie. It won't stop you from getting better."

"I need to let go and I can't do that with reminders of him still in my grasp." The hoodie was shoved inside a new box carelessly. Before I shut it, I slid off the ring Kyla had gifted me at Christmas and tossed it inside also. I would not always be his because he left me. "Tape, please?"

Eddie handed the roller to me, his eyes narrowed. "Clem, what was that you tossed in there?"

"Kyla gave me a ring for Christmas," I informed him, taping the box shut. "When his parents get these stupid boxes, they'll know I was telling the truth. That ring proves we were together."

"Holy fuck, was it an engagement ring, Clem?" Eddie sounded absolutely horrified, as though I'd just told him I'd gouged someone's eyes out.

I shook my head, laughing a little at his naivety. "Ed, Kyla would never ask me to marry him. I thought it was when he first gave it to me, but it's just a ring for nothing, I guess. It has Always Mine engraved on the inside."

"That possessive douche bag."

My laughter grew until it sounded completely mad. "I think you're right. He gave it to me just to reinforce the fact I was his and nobody else's. Kyla was so weird. It wasn't like he actually wanted me; he just wanted me to want him and I couldn't want anyone else or have anyone want me."

Whenever he started to get the idea Eddie wanted me, he'd sink his claws deeper into my heart to enforce the fact I was his and his alone. That's all that ring was; it was Kyla marking me.

"Every time I think I understand that creep, you tell us something new that completely discards all my previous thoughts," Eddie muttered, shaking his head in irritation

I bit my lip. "Now you get the last eight years of my life."