She knew me, and she knew I would be hurting this weekend. So instead of letting me drink myself stupid alone, she grabbed two glasses and proceeded to get wasted with me. Helping me forget, helping me numb my mind, and just being there.
Walking over to my desk, trying to clear the fog from last night’s bender, I look down at my desk calendar and triple-check the date. Yup, it’s still August 8th, my thirtieth birthday. Also the twelve year anniversary of what is still the worst day of my life. Getting into the shower, without the aid of Jack, I can’t stop my mind from wandering back in time.
“GRAM!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Gram, oh my God, GRAM!! There’s blood, so much blood, Gram! What do I do? Why is there so much . . . Why is there any?” I’ve reached complete hysterical breakdown proportions with my wailing.
This can’t be happening! There is no way God would be so cruel to take this too!
I crash down onto my knees, doubling over and curling into myself, screaming and praying . . . praying and screaming. Sobbing big, huge, gasping sobs.
Pop’s voice finally reaches my grief-filled mind, picking my small frame up and carrying me out to his truck. “Here we go, my little one. Buckle up and have no worries for your beautiful heart. Pop’s got you now.”
Shaking my head, I come back from that horrible day. My eighteenth birthday is still, twelve years later, marking all the birthdays that follow with heart-stopping pain. One day, I promise myself. One day I will be able to wake up on my birthday and smile. I can’t wait for that day.
Feeling slightly more human than I did a half hour ago, I throw my fluffy robe over my naked skin and take off to find my best friend.
I walk into the kitchen and smile down at the note from Dee.
Yo! Made you some grub. Eat . . . and shower because I bet you smell like yesterday’s shit. I had to run into the office, but be ready . . . I’ll be home around noon. We have some serious shopping and pampering to do! That’s right, not getting out of it! LOVE-me!
Picking up the salad from the fast food joint up the street, I plop down with a smile. Made me some grub, my ass. More like drove two seconds away and paid someone else to do it. Leave it to Dee. Busy as always on a Friday before a long weekend but still making sure I eat and take care of myself. Times like this remind me of how lucky I am to have her in my life; I really don’t know what I would do without her. She has saved me from myself more often than I can count. Knowing she will be home in an hour is just more proof of that. She knows I need her this weekend, so she is closing up shop half a day early.
I finish up lunch and then tidy up the kitchen. I return to my room to collect some laundry and get some housework done before Dee gets home, anything to try to keep my mind free of bad memories.
I know she means well, but I would much rather stay home and just be alone.
I understand why she wants to keep me busy, I really do, but I just don’t think I will be able to do it. Another year of going through the ‘normal’ motions. Another year missing him, missing them, missing everything.
A quick peek at the clock has me picking up my speed. Little Miss Happiness should be floating in soon; I at least need to be ready before the rainbows and glitter start fucking with me.
I’m deep in my closet, trying unsuccessfully to find something to wear today when I hear her . . . singing. Laughing to myself, I let a smile crack my face. Dee can’t hold a tune to save her life, but that will never stop her.
She comes bouncing in my room, smiling from ear to ear, “Hey, you sexy bitch. I see you decided to rock the birthday suit today. Nice choice, although we might have some issues getting into the mall like that. I think there might be laws against this. But hey, more power to you!” She smacks my ass on the way over to park it on my bed.
“What the hell, Dee! Door. Closed. Knock!” I try to scowl at her the way Greg always does to us but end up laughing right along with her giggles.
She flops her flat stomach down onto my bed. “So, my sexy ‘older’ friend, what will be worn on your naked self today? I assume that is what you are doing digging around in that closet of yours.”
“I don’t know, Dee,” I don’t have to fake the scowl this time. “Do we have to do this today? Can’t we just stay in today? I really don’t think I am going to make good company at all.” I’m pleading with her, and I am willing to bet I sound as desperate as I feel. I know I won’t be pleasant to be around today. I planned on a repeat of last night. Shitfaced, falling down, rip-roaring drunk. Healthy? No, but it works. Why should I mess with a good thing?