Wednesday, December 30, 2009

And I'm Breaking Down, I Think I'm Breaking Down || Four

Love is stronger than death even though it can't stop death from happening, but no matter how hard death tries it can't separate people from love." 

I woke up a few hours later and found myself curled up next to Taylor, who was still sleeping soundly. Hands still locked and his arm wrapped around me in a protective way.  What am I doing? I thought as I let go of Taylor's hand and tried to squirm out of his grasp without waking him. I managed to get out of his hold silently and rushed to the bathroom. I washed my face with freezing water and tried to sort out my thoughts.

Your boyfriend just died. It wouldn't be doing any justice to him with you huddled up in bed next to his best friend. You need to stop. Now. Stop now, and think about Mickey. Just because he was dead, didn't mean you had stopped loving him, or he had stopped loving you. 

I walked out of the bathroom and saw Taylor sitting on the edge of my bed, his hair all ruffled and his tight grey t-shirt hugging his arm muscles perfectly. He looked good. Too good. My heart started beating faster and faster as I approached him, and those stupid fucking butterflies I always got when I was with Mickey were apparent in my stomach. My head was spinning as I sat down next to him, and my knees were going weak. Don't feel this way. Stop, I reminded myself.

[Taylor's P.O.V]

I woke up only to find no one next to me. Fuck. But when Jasey walked out of the bathroom, a sense of ease rushed over me. She was still here. I wasn't losing her like I lost Mickey. But I was afraid I might, which is why I have to make sure she recovers from this. I can't lose her. I'm going to spend every day with her, and every night with her until I'm 100% positive she's okay. I wasn't going to lose her to drugs or alcohol. I refuse to lose her at all. She's staying alive. She's staying with me.

"Did you sleep alright?" I asked as she came over and sat next to me on the bed.
"Fine," she said and nodded her head distractedly.
"Is something wrong?" I asked, looking at her quizzically.
"Not really. Taylor, I just think it's best if you keep your space from me at the moment," she said, looking at her feet.
"Not going to happen!" I exclaimed, "I'm not gonna let you hurt yourself."
"I really just need to keep my distance from you right now." she whispered.
"Why? Did I do something wrong?" I asked and took her hand in mine.
"No." She said quickly and snapped her hand away from mine.
"Jase, tell me what's up." I pleaded as she burst into tears. I wrapped my arms around her tightly and sighed. Through all the tears and pain and grief, I was sure I was falling for her. It's not right, no. But I can't deny that there was something there.
"I can't fall in love with you." I heard her cry into my shoulder, catching me by surprise.
"Jasey, what did you say?" I asked. I had to make sure I heard her correctly.
"I can't fall in love with you!" she said louder and cried harder and harder.

I lifted her head up so that she'd look at me, and wiped away the tear stains from her cheeks.

"Maybe," I sighed, "you have to let yourself." I lifted her chin and pressed my lips onto hers, in a sweet lingering kiss. She wrapped her arms around  my neck and I hold her closer to me as I deepened the kiss.   She suddenly unhooked her arms from around my neck, pressed her hand to her lips, and stood up.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, as the tears began to roll down her cheeks, "I can't."

And with that she ran out of the bedroom and out of the apartment, leaving me sitting there, head in my hands, praying that she'd be okay.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

And Now My Dreams, Are Nothing Like They Were Meant To Be || Three

Taylor had decided he'd stay with me, seeing as he didn't have a game or a practice to go to. I was grateful for that much. As much as I resisted having anyone around me, Taylor understood what I was going through. He was as close to Mickey as I was, and I knew that Taylor was going through a hard time too.

"I think you need to start going back to work," he said, "You'll lose your job if you keep this up."
"I can't." I said, staring at the mattress I was lying in, then back at Taylor who was lying next to me.
"And why not?" he said, turning around to face me.
"Everything about my work reminds me of Mick." I mumbled, "He was always my number one supporter of my career in photography, he inspired me to go to classes and take internships, I can't go back now."
"Look, I know it's going to be hard, fuck, I mean, I had to go play again without my captain and friend. It was like there was a hole on the ice, something was missing. But you can't throw away your entire career, you have worked way to hard for it." Taylor said as he took my hand. His hand around mine sent shivers up my spin, his hands were so warm. I gripped onto his hand tighter.
"I'm sorry. I'm making this all about me, and I'm barely recognizing that this must be just as hard for you." I sighed, "I'll go back to work... Monday."
"It's a start," he said squeezing my hand as I closed my eyes and drifted off to an almost peaceful sleep, Taylor's warm body pressed up close to me, flashes of Mickey in my dreams, showing me good memories something I hadn't dreamt about in a long time.

Saturday, December 26, 2009

And Through The Night So It Seems I'm Not Breathing || Two

I slipped out of bed the next day at two o'clock feeling horrible. My head was sore and my voice dry and groggy. That's what one too many sleeping pills will do to you. I turned on my cell phone to find four missed calls and a text message. Three calls from work, one from Taylor. The text was from Taylor too.

Hey, I guess you're not up yet... give me a call when you get this.
I hope you're okay. 

I didn't reply. I didn't call either. I was having another one of those days. One of those days where the only person I wanted to see, was the one person I couldn't see. I sat down at my desk and lowered my head onto my hands and began to cry. My heart was aching, my head spinning. Why did Mickey have to be taken away so soon. I lifted my head up and wiped the cold tears from my face, walking over to the liquor cabinet and pulling out a few bottles of Daniel's. I was just about to take a swing when I heard a knock on my door. Whoever it was, it wasn't who I wanted to see, so I didn't answer. The knocks on the door were getting louder and louder as I could tell the person was getting more and more frustrated. 

"Cmon, Jasey. Open up, I know you're in there. I called your work, they said you haven't been in for almost a week." I recognized Taylor's pained voice say from the other side of the door.
"Taylor, leave me alone." I said sternly and took a huge gulp of my whiskey.
"No." he said simply.  "You realize that if you don't open the door, I'll find another way in."
"Go ahead. I'm not moving." I said as I poured the alcohol down my throat.

A few minutes had passed by when I heard scraping at my bedroom window, I turned and saw Taylor standing on my bedroom roof, toying with the window to get it open. He looked up at me and I saw a grieving expression on his face as he finally just kicked the window open. He jumped down from the window sill and onto my bed as I just fell to my knees and began to cry. And the tears wouldn't stop this time. Taylor ran down and wrapped me in a hug and refused to let go. 

"Jase, we're going to get through this." He spoke softly, "You and I are going to get through this."

Thursday, December 24, 2009

I Awoke Only To Find My Lungs Empty || One

I woke up gasping, sitting up to find myself drenched in a puddle of sweat and tears. I was shaking, my hands trembling viciously, and there were cold tears streaming down my cheeks. I had dreamt about him again. This was the fourth time this week. Everynight it's the same thing. Replaying the news in my head over and over again. It had been one year and three days since he died. And everynight, I dreamed of him.

"Why do you think Mouse's so late?" Taylor asked, swinging a kid down the ice, "It's not like him to be two hours late like this..."
I shrugged, "No clue. You're right though, it is kind of weird."
I spun myself around to see Bob standing there with a solemn look on his face, head down. I looked around the arena, confused, to see more confused faces looking around as well. The Windsor Spitfires were holding an annual charity family skate at the arena, and the Spits were all in attendance. All except for Mickey, the captain, and my long-time high school boyfriend.
"Excuse me. I'd like it if all the players and their families would meet me in the locker room now. I have some unfortunate news." Bob said once he had reached center ice. Taylor and I looked at each other with a worried expression and we follwed him into the dressing rooms. Bob took a seat in the middle of the dressing room and sighed deeply. 
"Now," he began, and I could tell from his shaky, almost broken voice that this wasn't going to be good. "I'm sure you're all wondering why Mickey isn't here." Bob took another deep breath and looked down. This wasn't easy for him. I clenched on to Mickey's dressing room stall as I prepared myself for the news. What I didn't know what that there was no way to prepare myself for the upcoming news. 

"Well, he isn't here because he passed away this morning." Bob said shaking his head. I didn't believe him. I just laughed at Bob's prank on all of us and shook my head. 
"That isn't funny, Bob." Taylor said, laughing.
"Believe me, Mr. Hall, I wish I was kidding." Bob said in his shaky voice, making me suddenly feel nauseous. "Mr. Renaud collapsed at his Tecumseh home and was transported to Windsor Regional Hospital with absent vital signs. All attempts were made at resuscitation and were unsuccessful at the emergency room. He had a heart condition named hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. The side affects are that the heart muscle thickens, without any obvious cause."

I didn't know what to say or do. I just sat there, shocked. I couldn't believe it. There was no way he was dead. I saw him yesterday. I saw him yesterday and he looked fine. There were no signs whatsoever of any sort of illness. Bob was lying. He had to be. Mickey wasn't dead. NO. I felt the tears stream down my face faster than the Niagra Falls, only to find myself clenching onto his jersey that was hung up in his stall and falling to the ground in a fit of uncontrollable tears. Not him. He was only nineteen, it wasn't his time. He hadn't even won a Stanley Cup yet. He told me; 'I'm not dying until my name is on that Cup.' HE WASN'T DEAD. I heard a scream escape my mouth as I cried harder. I didn't care if everyone in the room was looking at me. My boyfriend had just died. Some hyperblahblahblah had just claimed him from me. From Taylor, his best friend. From everyone. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I felt an arm wrap around me, as someone came and layed down on the ground, and through my tears I thought I heard Taylor sob quietly next to me. 

I dry my tears as I wake up, scared. It doesn't feel right not having him on the other side of the bed to hold me tight when I had a bad dream. I look down at my hand and find them clenched around his jersey that I never slept without. I pull his jersey over my head, taking in the scent that still lingered on it. His scent. The one I would never forget. Ever. I head to the bathroom and take a cylinder box out of the cabinet, popping off the cap before swallowing four pills. After all, it was the only way to numb the pain.