THE SPACE BETWEEN

Chapter 35

(Missi's POV)

At the beginning of our call Shannon seemed fine but then he turned nasty and ultimately hung up. All that remained of the conversation was the illumination my phone cast, but its light quickly faded. The darkness felt heavy as the night closed in around me, bringing with it a sense of hopelessness. My only comfort now was a blanket I'd wrapped around my shoulders before going outside. It had shielded me from the crisp night air but proved no match for the icy sting of Shannon's voice.

The conversation replayed in my mind and my gut gave its opinion—I'd been played. Shannon wanted me to think he'd gotten over the argument we had that morning as a way of lulling me into a false sense of security. His ruse worked and I honestly believed we were okay now. After swallowing the bait, I let my guard down. Doing so exposed my soft underbelly to the line of fire I hadn't seen coming. When the moment was right the one who'd been lying in wait made his move. At the end of his verbal attack, I remained villain du jour.

What made me think given Shannon's state of mind that he'd be capable of logical communication? Irrational thinking and erratic behavior were classic withdrawal symptoms—something I had a low tolerance for after so many incidences in the past. He wasn't the only one who wasn't in a good place mentally, but despite my shortcoming I wasn't willing to accept the blame for this latest outburst.

The chair I was sitting in was never intended for use as a contortionist's platform and the position I'd somehow managed to twist myself into was cramping my legs. The blanket was no longer a match for the night air, and I was chilled. It was a struggle for me to stand up and once I was on my feet I waited for the stiffness to ease before taking a step.

I started to question everything I'd done...could have done...or should have done differently over the past few days and my emotions were swinging back and forth like a pendulum. Part of me wanted to kick Shannon's ass and another part wanted to keep him safe from harm. I sent a message out into the universe hoping somehow it would have better luck reaching him than me.

'I love you...but I can't fix you. I'm struggling just to fix myself.' My words were swept away by the wind and drowned out by the sound of the roaring waves. I went back inside feeling utterly crushed. I walked slowly down the hallway and into the bathroom. I turned on the shower and let it run until the water heated up.

My mind was still running rampant as I stepped in the shower. The spray felt like pellets peppering my skin. This wasn't the hot, soothing sensation I was seeking. Stress was responsible for making this a painful experience...in more ways than one.

I hadn't gone into our relationship blind. I knew the tides could turn at any time. Everything was so different now. I knew there was no way I could ever fall out of love with Shannon the way I had my ex. That time in my life felt like it was a million years ago, yet I felt like something from the past was peeking over my shoulder.

So much of my life had revolved around the disease nobody likes to talk about. When my ex checked into rehab the first time I was determined to be the perfect codependent, hoping by doing so I would keep my family together. I was more than willing to make up for whatever my ex lacked to make us whole. What I didn't realize at the time was that I'd already been doing that very thing all along. Nor did I realize that perfectionism and codependence come hand in hand. The red flag that should have popped up was learning that codependents always strive for perfection. I'd never noticed myself doing that. I was picky about how things were done, but I wasn't that person. I was going to conquer the world though.

Once I learned the basics of codependent recovery practices I thought I was set for life. I knew how important it was to stay calm and refrain from adding fuel to any fire. I learned how to curb my knee-jerk way of reacting without thinking and I altered my desire to counter others' bad behavior with a display of my own. I tried approaching everything with patience and understanding—in other words to be my best self—but that was buried under too much weight and wouldn't come until years later.