All Because Of Him

sixty.

 The next few days are a meaningless blur. 

In order to distract myself from the outcome that I can't do anything about, I focus on the things I can change-my room for instance.

I've come to the realization that manic cleaning is just another one of my unusual qualities.

I've spent my time cleaning and scrubbing every inch of my bedroom, while also disposing of all of my small childlike artifacts. I wanted to discard all the memories that were haunting my never ending thoughts. And thankfully, as I organized every object that looked out of place I found that most of my feelings were kept at bay.

Until the point came where I had nothing left to do; the floor was swept and mopped, laundry was done, every inch of the room was dusted and every photograph on the wall of memories I didn't want to keep had found their place in the trash... and that's when reality checked in.

It had dawned on me that no matter my efforts to get my mind off of the obtrusive agony inside of me, it'll always find its way back.

So for the next couple of days I simply go through the motions, trying not to think about everything I have done to put this on myself.

For the most part I stay locked away in my room.

Amy has made numerous efforts to drag me out and socialize but after about the third of fourth try, she's given up. Sylvia on the other hand, has not. She can be very persistent when she wants to be.

In the back of my mind I think she's able to see right through me, the tone in her voice is different from everyone else's.

It's almost as if she knows.

And then there's my mother, Nora.

I've barely said three words to her since being here.

The only time I find myself going downstairs is to grab my dinner and immediately bring it back up to my room. Other than that, I've been completely bedridden. It feels as though there's a fifty pound weight on my chest, but as I predicted, it gets lighter with every day that passes.

Although being apart from him has been a difficult adjustment, it's exactly what I needed to pushstart the moving on process.

The more I think about it, the more I come to terms with it all.

But of course, it doesn't make any of it easy.

I hear a knock on my bedroom door and before I have any time to respond, the door opens.

"Can I come in?" Amy asks me and I nod, sitting up in my bed. She slowly walks over, and the mattress dips slightly when she sits down beside me.

"Now are you going to tell me what's wrong, or am I going to have to guess?"

The weight on my chest adds another pound and I find myself already starting to tense up.

"What do you mean?"

"Elle, when I visited you at Jessica's you seemed different... happier. And now you're back and I feel like I've barely seen you... Is this about Nora?"

I sigh, and run my fingers through my hair as she continues, "Look, I know you don't want to talk about it, and I won't force you. But at least let me help. Come join us downstairs for dinner, you shutting yourself out in this room is making me depressed." She jokes and I can't help but give her a short laugh in reply.

"What do you say? Does that sound like something you can do?"

As much as I hate to admit it, leaving this room doesn't sound like the worst idea. Being cooped up in here for days is nearly forcing me off the edge of insanity.