Page 22 of Happy After All

“I’m fine.”

Though I realize I’m not fine as soon as I find myself alone. It never occurred to me that this life could be threatened. The new life I made here. That I worked so hard for.

That means so much to me.

It’s been my safety. My shelter. I wanted to leave all my darkness behind in LA, and this ... It makes me realize there’s darkness everywhere.

I wipe at a tear on my cheek, and I try to keep it together. I haven’t lost anything yet. So many people here have. Everything. I have to keep perspective.

“You did good.”

I turn and see Nathan standing there.

“Thanks,” I say. “And thank you for helping.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“You were actually in the military, right?” I ask.

Yes, I’ve read his bio.

He nods. “Yes. I was.”

“I could tell. You were very calm. Very organized. Even though you were very hungover.”

He makes a sound that might be a laugh and might be a groan. He sits down at the table next to mine. Not too close. “Yeah.”

“You make a habit of drinking alone?”

I mean it to sound light and amusing, but it doesn’t.

“Sometimes,” he says.

“I just ... I thought you didn’t procrastinate.”

“Procrastination, self-medication—what’s the difference, really?”

“Good question.”

It’s so strange to me. That this man has now been in my life off and on for more than two years, that I know what he does, but nothing about the substance of him.

It feels like there’s something connecting me to him, but also like there’s a wall between us. I’m not sure which feeling is more real. I can still see the orange glow past the secure courtyard of the Pink Flamingo. The sky feels low. Heavy. There’s grit on the bistro table from ash.

“I love this place,” I say. “The people here have been amazing to me. This is just killing me.”

“You can replace things,” he says.

I look over at him. “Yes. Thanks for that. But it isn’t easy. It’s more than things; it’s everyone’s sense of security.”

“I get that. I’m just saying, when everything is terrible, you can at least be grateful that it’s something that can be rebuilt.” Yet again, he isn’t wrong, even if the way he says it is annoying.

I want to push him. I want to know more about him. I don’t know if it would build the wall higher or tighten the tether.

“I imagine, having been in the military, this doesn’t really faze you.”

“Not really.”

“I just mean because you are philosophical about it.”

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