Like To Be You ✓

twenty eight

;) 

o-o-o

One by one. Solve them one by one.

I bite my lip and stare at my face in the rear-view mirror of my car. I look deranged. You'd think a Tesla's mirrors would have the magical ability to beautify you, but no, I look like someone dragged my face against a ridged concrete wall for hours and ran a few cacti through my hair.

I don't think I look sane when Tyler opens the front door of his house. Seeing me sitting in his driveway, he's probably thinking God, it's him again, and honestly, I feel the same. It's me again. How annoying.

But my little walnut of a brain had advised that I sort through all of my problems one-by-one, and then took control of my limbs and drove me over here.

He doesn't even have to be told to get in the car. Tyler slides in, wears the seatbelt, takes one look at me, and goes: "Are you okay?"

"No."

"I figured as much."

"Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know."

"Okay."

"Okay."

My hands are frozen on the steering wheel. I try to move them, but they stubbornly hold on to it.

"Do you want me to drive?"

"Ever driven a Tesla?"

"No."

"Then no."

"Okay."

"Okay."

We sit in silence for a few minutes. Hey Jude plays on the radio softly. I switch it off, then switch it back on.

"You should start taking iron supplements. You're really pale."

"God, shut up, Tyler."

"Okay, sorry."

"Stop fucking apologizing."

"Okay, sor--- I mean, okay."

The words claw out of my mouth without my permission. "I feel like shit. I don't know whom to talk to. My therapist is dead, and I don't have a new therapist."

"Oh."

"I don't want you to feel like I'm making a big deal out of nothing, because I feel like I'm doing that and I don't want another person to validate it because it would really hurt my feelings."

"You're not making a big deal out of anything. People go through shit. You can't disregard your feelings."

I make a strangled noise, acknowledging his words. My hands finally move, and I pull away from his driveway and head towards the forest. It takes us about half an hour, and all-the-while we're quiet, listening to a Taylor Swift CD. So maybe I have all of her albums. Not a big deal.

I pause You Belong With Me when we come to a stop in the middle of the forest road, and get out of the car.

I begin pacing in front of the car door, thinking. What do I say? Why did I even bring him here?

I'm a fucking idiot.

I hear the car door shut behind me, but I'm too preoccupied watching my shoes walk over the concrete. It's fascinating, and somewhat soothing, until I'm yanked by my arm and pushed against the door, and all I can feel is his heat and Davidoff Cool Water.