Page 67 of Fighting for You
Read8:56 a.m.
12/25 2:35 a.m.
Me: Okay, I getit. I’m not worth your time,
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12/25 3:01 a.m.
Me: how cooudl you not tell me ou were a virgin
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12/25 4:13 a.m.
Me: I miss you a lready please answer
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12/25 4:43 a.m.
Me: I;m a terrible persson and i hate mysekf for what i diid
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Okay, so the messages aren’t untrue, but fuck. The worst part is she saw them and never responded. I almost wish her read receipts weren’t on so I could pretend she hadn’t seen them.
I exit out of the thread, sober enough now to know I shouldn’t send a follow up. I scroll through the app to see whoelse messaged me. It seems everyone I know has tried to reach me in the last twelve hours. Sitting up, I reach over to the coffee table and grab my pack of smokes and a lighter. With my cigarette lit, I let it hang from my lips as I open each message, making sure none are important.
12/25 9:06 a.m.
Hayes: Merry Christmas, asshole.
12/25 9:18 a.m.
Thea: Idk what happened last night, but you looked really upset. Can you please come over so I know you’re okay? Plus, it’s Christmas, meaning you’re obligated as part of the family.
12/25 10:24 a.m.
Ripley: You coming to Thea’s? Stop being a fucking loser loner. She keeps asking if any of us have heard from you. Answer me so I don’t have to let her down again next time she asks.
12/25 10:56 a.m.
Cary: Hey, I’m sorry about the other day. Don’t be a stranger, please. Let’s do Christmas together. I know it isn’t my first without mom and dad, but it is yours. I don’t think you should spend it alone.
I definitely deserve to spend it alone. They may not have heard the shit I said to Margot, but I know they all saw her run out of the bar crying. They all watched me prove them right. I’m so fucking tired of proving everyone right. I’m so tired of being a piece of shit with nothing good in life because all I do is sabotageit. The moment I see something going right, I destroy it without a second thought.
I’ve never been a relationship guy, but it’s because I never wanted one. Iwantedone with Margot. I wanted everything with her, and I still do. The way I acted last night may not have looked like I did, but it’s because I’m a fucking idiot. And a coward. I convinced myself it would be easier to pretend I didn’t want a relationship with her. I’d burn her before she could burn me. I’d save myself from getting hurt by ending it before she regretted ever giving me a chance. Instead, I hurt us both and fucked everything up.
I look around the living room and the state of it all. It feels like my life—cluttered, trash everywhere, a project in need of fixing. Taking another inhale of the nicotine, I blow out a few smoke rings. What if I’m not fixable? What if I’m doomed to always be the person no one can trust?
Fucking up my relationship with Cary by going off on him the other day was one thing, but he can’t completely abandon me. We’re bound by blood and the shared trauma our parents blessed us with. Margot doesn’t have any reason to keep me around. She’d probably be better off excising me like a tumor. And I’ve given her zero reasons to stick around.
Snubbing my cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, I stand and stretch before grabbing my phone from the couch and walking to the kitchen. I need a fucking beer. The hangover is looming, and the only way to stop it is to keep chugging. Pulling open the fridge, I grab the second to last beer. Pretty sure I had at least seven in there last night, apparently I did more damage than I thought.
Sitting down at the breakfast bar, I flip my phone over in my hand to look at the messages again. Realization hits me, I miss my family. I’ve been so angry since my parents died, I’ve pushed them away even more than I had before. I’ve been angry sincelong before they died, honestly, but not like this. I’d at least let them in to a certain point before. Recently, I’ve kept them all at a distance. I’ve barely spoken to Thea in the last few weeks. All my interactions with Cary have ended in heated words and one of us taking off. Ripley is the only one I’ve kept in semi-contact with. Even Hayes hasn’t seen me as frequently as he used to.
The anxiety of it all is pressing down on me like a boulder. But they all reached out. Every single one of them. Despite what my head is constantly telling me, it makes me wonder if they really do want me around. Maybe they don’t see me as the broken shell I think I am.
