Page 228 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

Only I wasn’t brave enough to confront my demons afterward.

It wasn’t until the airport was out of sight, the familiar streets blending into one another that I finally gave a name to these feelings.

Loss was palpable in the air.

Filling the car with its thick, cloying ache. Festering like mold. Heavy, and impossible to breathe around.

When Dad had gotten hurt, I’d freaked the fuck out. June too. We’d been a tangle of emotion together, constantly terrified, hovering over him—smothering him. The scare that we might’ve never seen him again causing us both to walk on eggshells.

And that had been…Christ. So fucking awful.

Something we never could’ve predicted.

Something I’d never wanted to go through again.

And here I was—choosing to lose George before I had to.

Choosing to bet on my own pessimism, because I thought it would save me from heartache.

But it couldn’t.

It wasn’t.

Because my heart was a gaping hole in my chest.

The stoplight turned red and I paused, heart ticking along with my blinker. To my left, on the sidewalk, a couple were running, jackets over their heads. I didn’t need to hear them to know they were laughing. They looked happy. The light turned green, but I didn’t move—stuck, as I watched them kiss beneath the blanket of their makeshift umbrellas.

I’d almost…

I’d almost had that.

And I’d…

Let him go.

My vision began to blur. The next handful of roads blended into one another, my body operating on autopilot as I headed toward home.Home, where I could lick my wounds in private. Home. Alone. Without my Georgie. With only the memory of his presence, and the way he’d made my world so much brighter.

Home, with his half-eaten jar of apology pickles.

And the daydream of what could’ve been.

As I drove over a railroad crossing, my wheels ground over the tracks.Thud, thud, thud.There were railroads like this all over Columbus. So common, I hardly noticed I’d passed one—too occupied by my own distress to really pay attention.

What had I expected?

That I wouldn’t miss him?

I mean…how stupid could I possibly get?

He wasn’t a friend.

He was mybestfriend.

He wasn’t meant to be a fond memory.

He was my soul mate, probably.

And he was boarding that plane right now, wondering why he wasn’t enough. Again. But this time, I was the reason he was feeling inadequate.

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