Page 142 of Feels Like Forever

The heavy grayness returns in no time, but at least I have something to look forward to that isn’t just more painful emptiness.

*

Saturday morning.

My head is pounding so hard I feel like it’s going to explode. My mouth is dry. I feel weak and very, very nauseated.

Guys’ night wasn’t a good idea.

I didn’t get a grip on myself, on my life. I drank way, way too much—drank myself stupid and only very temporarily numb.

My head throbs worse as I hurry out of bed, as does the bruise I banged into existence on my right knee last night, but I ignore them and stagger to the bathroom. I barely make it to the toilet before I vomit deep and hard.

Fucking disgusting.

I feel disgusting.

Alcohol wasn’t the answer.

Trying to block Liv out wasn’t the answer.

But how can I get her to talk to me?

It’s been a week and some hours now since she last talked—

I throw up some more.

God, I feel like death.

But it’s Saturday morning. My alarm is what woke me up. I need to visit Lolly and go to work before too long.

Throat burning, I rest my sweaty forehead on my arms, unable to keep in a sob of frustration and exhaustion.

Was it really two entire weeks ago that I woke up with Liv’s fingertips on my chest?

I thought she was coming around to me.

I’m crying before I can stop myself. Losing her pushed me to tears as it was, and now this hangover is stabbing into me and I’m just—I’m fucked.

What am I supposed to do? Forget her? Forget Rae? Forget what they did to my life?

That’s impossible.

Butwhatam I…?

I only realize after I force myself through a cup of coffee and a shower that I need to talk to someone about her.

Bill. I want to talk to Bill.

He really did figure this out a long time ago—he knew what was happening to me beforeIdid. He can help me.

I call him on the way to see Lolly. He asks if I can meet at the bar in half an hour. It’s soon, but I’m not going to spend a lot of time at Quiet Springs anyway. Lolly hasn’t remembered me at all this last week. Not for a moment.

It’s the same thing this time. I walk into her room and she doesn’t know who the hell I am. I tell her I’m her grandson and she tells me she doesn’t have one.

I’m crying a-fucking-gain by the time I leave.

In the empty, silent bar, I’m slumped on a stool when Bill arrives.

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