Last Flight Home [completed]

✈ xxxi.

[ + 3 WEEKS ]

"I'm okay. I don't need help"

The therapist pushes her oversized glasses further up her nose as she eyes my usual appearance - cologne to mask the smell of alcohol, a shirt that hasn't been washed in three days, and hair that was greasier than the fry trap of a McDonald's.

"How much have you been drinking?" She questions, still scribbling on the clipboard that balances on her thigh.

I roll my eyes. "Just today or in the last 24 hours?"

This time, she doesn't ask me to humor myself. She doesn't ask what bar I got kicked out of for getting into a fight or how many shots it took me to forget my name. She doesn't inquire about if I lost my apartment key or not and if I had to break through the window to get inside yet again. Her smile fades, and underneath the make-up that was plastered on her face she looks exhausted.

"Do you remember the first day you came in here?"

I nod.

"You told me everything about Sabrina, and how she felt like your everything even though you only had a few days to experience what it felt like to genuinely fall in love with someone."

"So?"

"From what you told me about her, she wouldn't want you to do this to yourself."

Between the constant level of alcohol I needed in my system to function, I started to feel the blur fade away and somehow, I felt a lot sadder than I have recently. Part of me wanted to storm out of the therapist's office, but the rational part of myself knew that was a mistake. Between getting arrested for breaking the window in my own apartment and getting into all of those bar fights, the police aren't going to keep buying it if I'm not trying to help myself in some way. I guess that's why I hate having connections - it's not helping me get better if my brother's reputation is keeping me from paying for my consequences.

Between being stuck in my thoughts and feeling the alcohol empty my system, tears started to roll down my embarrassed checks.

"I don't think you're weak, Nathan," She starts, pushing a box of tissues in my direction. "You can get through this. You're strong. You just need some help, and I can't help you if you're not willing to help yourself."

"What can I do?"

"I need you to sober up."

[- ✈ -]