Flight Into The Unknown

Chapter Nine

I woke up to a rainy English day. I grabbed my phone to check the time- 12:21 PM. I didn't hear anything around me, so that meant Jamison was still asleep. Or passed out. Whichever. I was upset as soon as I remembered what happened just a few hours before. 

I walked quietly to his room, where I usually slept. I was so angry that I needed space to sleep and think in peace. He was sprawled across his bed in a deep sleep. I didn't bother trying to wake him up, I knew he was a deep sleeper. I also knew he would be hungover whenever he woke up. I decided to take a shower. 

As I showered, I washed my hair and tried to think about how to approach Jamison once he did wake up. Do I just act like nothing happened and I wasn't worried sick the night before? Do I angrily confront him? We had argued before, like every other couple on the planet, but obviously not in person. I knew this trip wouldn't be all sunshine and rainbows (have you seen the weather in England?) but I didn't see this happening. I decided to see where his head was when he woke up and go from there. 

I grabbed some food and sat on the couch to watch some Netflix. It was that kind of day and I wasn't going to miss an opportunity to chill out, no matter where I was. 

I watched three episodes of "Grace and Frankie" before I heard Jamison walking around in the back of the flat. For some reason, I realized I was holding my breath and my jaws were clenched. I paused my show as he walked into the room. 

"Hi," he said quietly. Jamison sat next to me on the couch. "I'm so sorry about last night." 

I couldn't help but glare at him. "I was so worried about you. I had a feeling you went out and drank and I don't know how I feel about that." 

Jamison lowered his eyes. "I know and I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have done that. I was upset over my parents and the only thing I could think of to get it out my mind was to drink." 

"Wait, what? I flew thousands of miles to see you and you can't even talk to me when things go bad?" I shrieked. I couldn't believe that Jamison felt that he couldn't share his deepest feelings with me, even with me right there next to him. 

"It's not that. I don't want you to see me as this weak guy who can't handle-" 

"That's exactly what you look like. You don't do well with handling your feelings and that's something you gotta work on PRONTO if you want me to be with you. I can't bear the idea of you running out to drink every time something bad happens." I moved to the other end of the couch. I didn't want to be near Jamison. I was too angry to even look at him. 

"Willa, you know I love you. I just struggle. You know that." 

"Okay, so you want me to accept that you're gonna fucking drink yourself to death. Nah. You have too much going for you and can access all kinds of help but yet, you haven't mentioned that." I got up and put my dishes in the sink. I went into the bedroom to find some clothes to wear- it was time for me to go to a hotel and think out my next step. I was not going to stay with Jamison, here or back home, if he didn't see the potential in himself. It hit me all of a sudden that Jamison really didn't care about drinking himself to death- a slow suicide. All of this made me even more incensed. I had to get out of there. 

I decided to go to a coffee shop up the street and sit for a while as I looked for a hotel. I was so glad I brought extra money just in case something like this happened. I was also glad to see the rain had stopped. 

I shut the door and threw on leggings, a shirt, flats and threw my hair into a bun. I grabbed my bags and suitcase and started packing. I rolled my luggage into the living room, where Jamison still sat on the couch. 

"You're leaving?" He looked genuinely sad. 

"Yeah, because I'm not staying here while you drink yourself to death. You already have issues with your liver that will only get worse. I don't know if I am just going to go home or stay here and give you some time to get your shit together. I've only got two more weeks of vacation and I may just spend it at home." 

I walked out the door and down the steps. I barely made it onto the sidewalk when Jamison called. 

I let it go to voicemail. 

Part of me thought that I had set myself up for failure because I knew Jamison had a drinking problem and coming here unexpected would at some point go bad. The other part of me felt bad for leaving, but I cared about him way too much to see what was going to happen if he kept drinking. 

I walked three blocks to The Englander, the coffee shop that reminded me of Starbucks and sat at a table. I sat my luggage at a table and ordered an iced mocha with an extra shot and an everything bagel. Eating and drinking certainly helped me think. I looked for nearby hotels and after twenty minutes, secured a room for a week. That gave me enough time to think out what was next with Jamison and left a week for me to get back home and adjust my sleep. 

I requested an Uber and rode to the hotel. Once there, I checked in and went to my room, unpacked and sat on the edge of my bed to check my phone. I had been too busy for the last couple of hours to do so. I had four voice mails from Jamison, all of which were deleted. I didn't want to hear anything he had to say. I also had texts and even a couple of emails, none of which I wanted to read. It was like my brain had shut down when I realized that Jamison didn't trust me with his feelings, even after years of being together. That hurt. 

I didn't feel like doing anything for the rest of the day, so I changed into comfortable clothes and later ordered room service dinner. "Grace and Frankie" took up my evening, even as Jamison called and texted. It's not that I didn't want to talk to him, it was more that I didn't even know what to say. 

What do you say to someone who you trusted with your pain and secrets but couldn't trust you with theirs? Not many people knew I was in recovery from bulimia. How do you process the thoughts of him not loving you like you loved him? I hadn't felt this about Jamison before. At one point, I decided to go to bed and sleep on the day's events.