Downfall | ✔️

59 | The end.

3 months later.

It's been three months since that dreaded night, and the last time I heard his voice, seen his face. The image of him crying hasn't left my mind; it was the first time I had seen such raw emotion from Mason, and it broke my heart.

My mom is still living with Steve, she's helping out with everything as much as she can—as for her sobriety, it's a working progress. Most of the time she's sober, and I guess that's all I can ask for—if I could find comfort in the bottom of a bottle right now, I would. And trust me, I've tried; but nothing stops the pain. Nothing stops me missing Carol, nothing stops me yearning for her comfort in my hurt, and nothing can bring her back. Mason, on the other hand—his number is disconnected, I removed any photographs of us in sight and washed every bedsheet, pillow, item of clothing that he ever touched—the smell of him makes me feel as though my heart is being ripped out of my chest all over again. Well, all except one. His shirt.

I placed the shirt that I used to love to sleep in, in a box at the back of the closet, along with anything that reminds me of him and along with my feelings, my memories. It doesn't stop it, the thoughts of him. He consumes my every thought, day and night—nothing ever stops that. Not alcohol, not sleeping pills, not throwing myself into exercise or any other hobby. Nothing.

I took leave from university for a while; my therapist said I have to confront my grief of both Mason and Carol before I begin to focus on my study. I couldn't make it through one lecture without breaking down. Therapy, I guess that's new too. I can't bare to talk about either of them, but I fear that if I don't go—I'll lose my mind completely.

My therapist fears I'm suppressing too much, that it's unhealthy. It probably is, but the alternative is facing all the grief at once—and I'm not ready for that.

My friends have been there for me as much as possible, I had to lie. I told them that Mason had to leave with his family, a family emergency. They all hate him for not keeping contact, or visiting, asking me to visit. They hate him for disappearing and breaking my heart, breaking what remained of me and leaving me alone in my darkest time. And each time I think of them hating him I want to scream, tell them they're wrong about him—but what am I supposed to say? Nothing.
Elijah took it the hardest, them being best friends and all, he almost cried when I broke the news, not understanding why there wasn't a goodbye, a text, a call. Even Jake was upset. We have an agreement not to mention his name, it's easier that way. The elephant in the room is always there, I haven't laughed since then, I haven't found joy in anything; my friends try, but I don't want to go anywhere, do anything, I ruin the mood wherever I go, I make everyone uncomfortable; no matter how often they tell me I don't.

Our friend group hasn't been the same since then, without him. I remember a time when he was so misplaced around us all, but he became such an important part in all of our lives—and now that he's gone, it's different. The playful atmosphere is no longer there when we all gather, the jokes that we all miss are painfully absent. Everything is different.

"I have seen your darkest nights, and your brightest days—and I want you to know, that I will be here, forever, loving you in dusk."

I miss you, Mason. I miss you more than I could've ever imagined. Please come back to me.

—————

I squeeze my eyes closed as the hurt starts to creep into my chest, please don't make me think about it. My breathing becomes erratic and it's happening again, another attack.