Make It Worth It

Chapter 6

“BUT YOU CAN’T GO NOW, YOU CAN’T GO NOW ISAIAH!” What the hell? I snap up, I must have fallen asleep after all. Stupid me, messing up... again.

“ISAIAH, LOOK AT ME!” My vision finally un-blurs and I see Angela storming around the flat. It’s still dark outside, I check the clock: 3:48. Glorious.

“Isaiah, oh my god. Isaiah.” Angela says to me, you can hear the fear and breathiness in her voice. “Isaiah, what the hell is going on?”

“Listen, Ang-”

“NO. NO. NO. You need to answer my questions. Isaiah, when we were in the park and I was asking you those questions, it wasn’t because I was nosy. I wanted to make sure that you were over what happened in the past and I wasn’t going to have to go through this shit again. So what the fuck were you talking about in your dream just now?”

“I-I I don’t know.” I was so frightened by what I may have caused Angela to feel like, that I couldn’t even think straight.

“YOU DON’T KNOW?” Angela threw her hands up in the air, “YOU. DON’T. KNOW.” She was furious, Nice move there Isaiah, one point for you, I thought to myself. Angela started pacing around in a circle again, looking towards the sky, shaking her head as she said, “He doesn’t know, he doesn’t fucking know.” Then her eyes returned to me, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW?”

“Angela, please calm down. I can’t thin-”

“ISAIAH, DON’T START WIT-” She stopped mid-sentence, the rage set in her eyes, took a deep breath and started again. “Tell me, exactly what you mean by you don’t know?”

“It’s just that, I don’t know. I can’t think straight when I’m around you mad, especially knowing that I made you mad. It hurts too much.”

“Enough of the sweet tal-” Jesus fucking Christ, did she not get it?

“ANGELA. It’s not sweet talk. It’s the goddamn truth. If you let me finish my story, it will make sense.” Angela’s reaction to that shut her the hell up andI continued to explain what was going on, “I don’t know why I talk about suicides in my dreams. Number one reason why I don’t know, right now I can’t really think. Second reason why, even when I can think straight, I really don’t know. I don’t think about it during the day, just when I go to sleep I get flashbacks and blurt things out.”

“Isaiah, that doesn’t know make any sense. You can’t dream about things you don’t think about. So at some time, you have to think about it for it to be in your brain.”

“WELL I’M NOT A BLOODY PSYCHOLOGIST, SO DON’T ASK ME WHAT’S GOING ON!”

“ISAIAH. MOTHER OF GOD, LISTEN, I WANT TO HELP YOU. I REALLY WANT TO HELP YOU BUT IF YOU ARE GOING TO KEEP THIS PERSONA UP THEN I CAN’T HELP YOU.” Angela’s sweat, from screaming at me, was now pouring down her face, or wait, where those tears?

“WHY DO YOU WANT TO HELP ME? NO ONE EVER WANTS TO HELP ME, SO WHY YOU?” I didn’t mean to scream at Angela, but its so bloody early, that my nerves are on me.

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, I FREAKING LOVE YOU, ISAIAH! I LOVE YOU AND I DON’T WANT YOU TO LEAVE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE HAS IN MY LIFE!” Her breathing has really gotten bad now, she flops on the couch, and starts sobbing.

“Angela...” She has me speechless, for once she’s shut the Brit up, I would give her a high five if we weren’t in the situation we were in. As I wipe the tears from her cheek, I say, “Angela, sweetheart, I love you too, I love you to death, and I want you to know that this suicide thing it’s my problem. My problem to fix, not yours. Don’t put yourself into my suicide plans, you have nothing to do with any of this. You make my life a better place, I swear. Since I’ve met you I don’t think about my suicide during the day, I think of you. Please don’t blame anything stupid I do on yourself. I love you too much for you to hurt.”

Angela continues to cry, but she merely makes out some words in reply, “Isaiah... I... will... always... care... about... you... you can’t... make... me... not care about... you. I know... how... to... deal... with... this sit... uation... just... just...”

“Just what?”

“Let me love you for awhile... without any suicide drama.”

“I can try... maybe.” I say, hesitantly. I’ve been suicidal for as long as I could remember, and no matter how fabulous Angela is, can I really stop being “me” for awhile?

“Isaiah... promise me. Please? I can’t do this again.” I couldn’t promise. This was too fast, too quick, too sudden. So, we sat in silence, for what seemed like the longest 30 seconds of my life. It’s was like that 30 second wait, before a judge tells a murderer ’15 years in prison!’ My adrenaline was pumping, my heart was aching, and so was my brain. Then Angela, broke the silence, “Just let me love you?” She pleaded, on the verge of crying again.

“I can do that. I can and will definitely let you do that!” I said back, hugging her and nodding in agreement to my statement. Someone wanted to love me, wow, can’t turn down that offer.

“Oh thank God, Isaiah!” She said, with a wide sparkling smile. I ending the conversation as I kissed her. The energy between us was so special, you could feel that she meant what she had said and for the first time in awhile, it was obvious I did too.