We Met On The Road To Recovery

29.

Faith Elizabeth
Two days.
That's how long it evidently took Shawn to get his head out of his arse.

"Hey. I was expecting you to call" he said and I growled inside my head.
"I told you to call me when you stopped being preoccupied" I said and I thought I heard the sound of him slapping his own forehead. Unless someone else slapped him, which was unlikely.
"Fuck. I'm sorry." He sighed and I shrugged even though he couldn't see me.
I let the silence hang.
I didn't know what to say to him.
"I'm here now and I'm full attention on you. I promise. I'm just at home on my own so there's no distractions" he said and I sighed.
"Ok"

I dug the letter out of my bedside cabinet and sent him a photo of it.
I heard him mumble the words to himself and the turning over of the page.
Even when I thought he had done reading he still didn't say anything.
"Shawn?" I said.
"You're sharing a flat with a guy?" He said and I groaned.
"Is that seriously the first thing you say to me?"
"Why can't you just stay in my flat? I told you you could have it" he groaned.
"Because I tried to kill myself Shawn and being on my own and isolated could mean that I relapse into depression. You seem to forget what happened" I spat.
"I don't like to think about it. I want to forget" he said.
I paused.
"I'm sorry I shouldn't have" I sighed and brushed my hair behind my ear.
"No I should have been more understanding. I'm sorry" he said.

"How was your lunch the other day?" I asked trying to quickly move the subject on.
"It was nice. We actually spent yesterday together as well" he said and I sighed.
"Yeah I saw the photos" I said.
"I thought you might. You don't mind do you?" He said.
"No. You're not my boyfriend" I said and shrugged to myself.
"Well I- no I guess I'm not." He said and I averted my eyes to the floor.
All hope of him saying he wanted to be slipped through my fingers.
"So, not long till you move in then" he said.
"No. Not at all. I'm excited" I sighed.
"Well I could come and help you move in if you wanted?" He asked and I smiled.
"That would be nice." I said.
"I have to go but I'll talk to you later ok?" He asked.
"That's fine. I'll see you soon" I said.
"Bye" he said before the sad 'end call' tone sounded out.

I put my phone down on the bedside table and flopped down on the bed.
I stared at the ceiling and just thought.
I thought about everything.
My dad, Shawn, moving up to London with a stranger, leaving my family.
I was ready to leave.
And I thought that if I left it would relieve some of the danger off of them.

"Mum told me about dad" my sister said as she walked into my room.
"You had to know eventually" I sighed.
She was only ten.
Shes too young to be going through all this.
We never told her what happened to me. We always lied and told her I was just sick. She never questioned it. We always tell her that I go to special tutoring when I go to therapy.
I made a promise to myself that I would tell her one day. Just not yet.
"Are you going to be ok if you move away?" She asked and sat beside me on the bed.
"I'll be fine. Besides, it means that you're not in any danger" I said and she shrugged.
"But you'll have to do it all on your own. What if you get sick again?" She asked.
"I won't. And I'm not on my own. I'm living with someone who'll look after me" I said and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Are you sure you're going to be ok?" She asked.
"I will be ok. It's the next stage of my life. And I'm ready"