All The Mixed Feelings (Van McCann)

Part 72

Van

Every night I went to sleep hoping I'd wake to find that my pain would magically be gone and my bruises would be faded. But each morning, although it lessened slightly each day, the sharp pain roused me from my restless sleep, and I'd reach for the painkillers before I'd even properly opened my eyes.

I missed Abby terribly. Since her last visit got rudely interrupted by Dave, she'd avoided all my invitations for her to come back. Even though she was just streets away, she may as well have been a million miles from me.

I was still smarting from Dave's words too. In fact I was livid. How dare he try and dictate how I should live my life? He didn't know what was good for me. I'd be the judge of that.

"Really hate to say it mate, but at some point you're just gonna have to accept that you and Abby are probably just not meant to be."

A week had passed since the incident and Larry and I were sitting outside on the patio, smoking and sipping our bottles of beer as the sun dipped below the horizon. Another day without Abby. I tipped my head back, draining the bottle, and reached out my hand for the spliff Larry and I were sharing, taking a long drag when he passed it over.

"What if it IS meant to be though? How am I supposed to let her go if this is the real thing?"

"You can't keep torturing yourself Van..."

I took another deep drag, then tipped my head back, watching the smoke spiral upwards and dissipate. I stayed like that, scanning the twilight sky, trying to put what Abby meant to me into words, my brain slightly fuddled by the effects of the weed.

"She's... I don't know... she's just everything. If I was gonna put it into lyrics she'd be Lyla..."

Larry looked puzzled. "Huh?"

"Lyla... You know... Oasis!" I said with a grin, singing the lyrics. "She's the queen of all I've seen!"

Larry raised his eyebrows and stuck his hand out for the joint again. "Don't think you should smoke any more of that if you're gonna start talking all soft and shit!"

"I'm being serious Larry!"

"Yeah I am too. Look... just because you're all loved up about her doesn't necessarily mean she feels the same way does it? She might just wanna be friends."

I scowled at Larry, not wanting to hear it. Of course I'd thought about that very fact, lying awake in bed in the small hours of the morning, but I refused to believe it. I couldn't believe it. If it WAS true then where did I go from here?

I brought up a photo of Abby on my phone. It was a screen shot I'd taken from Sam's Instagram of Abby. He'd said she'd looked like an angel in the photo and he wasn't wrong. She was a goddess, otherworldly. The photo had been taken at dawn and she was bathed in the sun's morning glow. She was looking into the distance with a wistful expression, her eyes a little sad but with a hint of a sparkle like she was fixed on a bittersweet memory.

I couldn't let her go. Not yet. Not until I had tried everything.

Abby

Michelle had managed to persuade me to go out with her for afternoon drinks. It was the only time I'd been out the house apart from visiting Van. The day was pleasantly warm and we were sitting in a pub garden sipping our pints. I'd chosen the furthest table from all the other customers, sitting with my back to them. My bruising had gone down slightly, but it was still very noticeable and I felt self-conscious. A young lad approached our table to pick up the empty glasses and I immediately put my head down, letting my hair fall over my face.