The Trouble with Loving a Milkovich Part 4

Numb

Snow descends to the ground outside the church where they're holding my mother's wake. Fingers numb from the cold, I put the cigarette to my lips and inhale. It burns to the filter, but I'm not done. Tossing it to the ground, I reach for another one, but Collin's hand intervenes. "Ready, babe?" he asks gently, rubbing the tips of my frozen fingers. Looking up at him, a snowflake lands on my cheek. "Hey," he smiles, brushing the hair back from my face. "I've been here before, remember? You can do this." Taking me by the back of my arm, he leads me into the church. The warmth of the heater greets us. Collin takes off my jacket and hangs it on a hook next to his. "Ready?" Together, we head to the front of the church. Women wail, aunts and cousins I dont remember, a handful of friends that still viewed her fondly at the end or at least are pretending to now. In the corner, several men from the Family raise their glasses to me. Nodding at them, I see the casket and freeze. A numbness sets in. Emotionally detached, I make my way shakily to her dead body. Collin's grip on my arm tightens the closer we get. Unable to make it all the way, I turn around and head back out the front doors of the church. Snow whips my hair angrily, but the fire inside of me keeps it from freezing. A primitive yell bursts forth from my gut. "WHYYYYY?!" I scream to the sky. "What the FUCKKKK?!" Tears fall fast and burn hot down my face. Questions arise, questions I never knew I had; how could you? Why me? What did i do to make you hate me so much? Why wasn't i an abortion?
I know I should feel sad, but in this moment I am angry and that anger makes me feel guilty and once the guilt subsides, I am relieved... flashes of my childhood, of walking up to the front door in fear, of my mother snatching me by the hair, kicking me, punching me, standing so hard on my bladder, she made me piss... every single rotten thing shes ever done, every half cocked excuse she ever gave, every fucking boyfriend she had that tried to touch me, every single time one of them fucked me while I was asleep... hands grip me and I'm pulled into the chest of my husband. Bawling, I turn and shove my face into his shirt. Between sobs, I try and catch my breathe. Everything I never got to say and never will burrows itself in the hole in my heart and I want to die, I want to disappear, I want to not fucking be me for two seconds. Falling into the back of my mind, I'm in my safe chamber. Collin just holds me close. An eternity passes before I'm able to get up. Collin helps me and we head to the car. The heater  reminds me of just how numbingly cold it is outside. The drive home flies by.
Once we make it home, Collin pulls me into the bathroom and runs a warm bath. Stripping me, he tosses my wet clothes onto the floor. My shaking frame is covered with goosebumps. Having removed his own clothes, Collin gets into the bath first, then helps me in. Laying back on him, his arms wrap around me and he whispers into my ear. "I was pretty young when my mom died. Barely remember her. The memories I had- have- are of her and my dad fighting and drinking. In all honesty, it was one less thing to worry about when she was gone..." leaning over, he turns off the water, then continues. "Still, that's my mom. As much as I hate what she put us thru, I miss the fact that she never got to get better and become a real mom. I miss what she could've been more than I miss her." The hole in my chest deepens, and again, I crumble. Pulling his arms tighter around me, I whisper, "How are you so perfect." At this, he laughs. "If I were perfect, I wouldn't have a shot ready and waiting for us in the room, babe. I'm fucking broken, too. I just love you more than I hate myself."

Head resting on Collin's chest, I let the waves of chemically induced euphoria to wash over me. Collin's hand lazily brushes my hair and I melt into him. "I'm not good at showing love," I confess. His chest heaves beneath me. "I know," he confesses. "Then what do you see in me?" I beg, my words nearly choking me. At this, Collin pauses, choosing his words. "What do I see in you? I see the girl who used to light up whenever I'd walk past her on the way home from school. I see the girl who saw past the fact that I'm a piece of shit Milkovich; I see the woman who carried my son; I see the girl who would run to my house whenever her mom got too drunk, who'd turn on some depressing ass song and lay in my arms til she passed out crying. I see you for who you are and because of that, I can't help but be head over heels. You're strong, you're beautiful, but more than that... you're the only thing that matters to me in this shitty fucking life. When I'm with you, everything else just sorta fades to the background and I'm okay." He finishes his sentence, just in time for the sirens outside our bedroom window to startle us. "Fuck," I moan weakly, unable to get up from where we lay. As high as I am, Collin refuses to be a muscle. Outside the bedroom, we hear the front door open and Terry's voice spewing out a tirade of profanities. Even in the dark, I can feel Collin rolling his eyes. The police doors slam shut, and the sirens sail past. "You know how I know this is good dope?" he asks me, his chest shaking a little from repressed laughter. "Cause you didnt give a fuck of they were here for us?" I ask, my own giggles working their way out of me. "I'm too fucking high to give a fuck," he full out laughs at this, making me join him. "I thought I was tripping," I admit, laughing just as hard. "I'm so fucking high." I tell the room, laughing until tears stream down my face.