And then I die

1. Survivor

Manuel

I don't have a lot of friends, just the two fellas, Andre and Drew from college who fill in my attendance for when I don't show up for classes which happens far too often, mostly because I can't get myself out of bed. Sort of like today. I tried, I really did, but even after five whole years, I still get the gripping sense of loss that strips me of any and all will to do anything other than sleep.

The extensive classes from my high school help me identify exactly what it is I'm feeling which is why I manage to drag myself here after sun down. Here is an old run down building, its not just old but the infrastructure is ancient. If I were to guess I would say it was made before the Fourth Frontier. All the buildings after the Fourth Frontier are modern and flashy. This one is old and dark. Just like me.

I'm here to attend a support group an AA meeting for grieving; I read about it online and figured why not. It was only a few blocks from my place. So I drove. And now I'm here.

It's a good start and cheaper than getting a shrink. Not that I can do that, it's not the money but the code that I grew up with. Using a shrink is as good as being a snitch for someone like me especially when you consider the terms of how I came to lose them.
I can't even say their names. Hopefully I won't even have to explain them tonight. Hopefully this will help.

It's my fifth group, I try every year but this is the first year that I got myself enrolled into college. That is a huge step as far as all my uncles are concerned. It also meant that I had to step away from the Family. Not that it affects anything, I was nothing to them. I still am nothing.

I look around at all the faces gathered there, they all sort of look like me, beaten down and tired. Man, I get the kind of tired they must feel, the lack of sleep, the restlessness but all of that becomes nothing when you think of the emptiness. It is like a black hole eating at you until you're nothing more than lead and you're too heavy to move or do anything.

Someone, the attendant or whatever he is starts talking. I catch their name, Steven. He invites people to talk and we all nod along to show our support but all too quickly it's my turn to speak. And that's when she walks in.
She's brown skinned with eyes so bright they shine and maybe it's the eyes but all of her seems to shine along with them. Unlike the rest of us she does not look beaten down. As a matter of fact she looks upbeat.

She takes a seat near the back facing me and then focuses on me. I ask myself why that is until I remember it's my turn to speak.

"Hi, I'm Manuel," They all say 'Hi, Manuel' and I know what I'm supposed to do. I'm supposed to explain my loss but I can't. I can't even think of them. "I have survivor's guilt."

It's silent for a while because it takes Steven a while to register that I won't say more than that and then he is off. He awkwardly thanks me for sharing and then moves on to a woman named Karen until he makes his way to the woman who just entered.

I hadn't registered looking at her but I find my eyes were already there when it's her turn to speak like that's where my focus was this whole time. She has a soft voice and a round face that showcases really chubby cheeks but her body is not necessarily chunky. I think she's mostly curvy.

"Hi, I'm Jennifer," we all greet her back "I have survivor's guilt," she says but it sounds like she's proud of it, like her, her voice is too upbeat "I lost my brother in a car accident, I was next to him and then well, it was just me."
She goes on to tell us about that fateful day; they were driving back home from a party that they had not been granted permission to go to. Her brother who had not had an ounce of alcohol that night decided to run a red light and then there was this loud sound and then she woke up in the hospital, suddenly an only child. That was seven years ago, she says she still misses him but is generally feeling better.

"Loss only proves you're alive right?" she asks the rest of us and Steve remembers to nod while the rest of us wonder why she's even there. If there were levels of grief support groups then this girl was supposed to be in another meeting, one that was above the rest of us.

But I'm glad that she is done because she was the last one to speak. Now all that is left is getting up, declining the horrible coffee (I can tell just by the smell) and then I can go join my bed again. I can feel a bit of contentment in trying to do this today.

I give the room one last look, even the walls look worn out and sad, the paint is falling off in chunks, there's colour that was originally there and if it wasn’t for the coffee, I'm certain the room would have a murky smell; it is not a hopeful place. And just like that I know I won't make it back here next Friday.

I'm opening my car when I hear the heels and somehow I just know who it is. Not that its rocket science, no one in there was wearing heels. This neighbourhood is not the kind of place where people wear heels.

"Hi," she says and I see something in her eyes.

Man, I'm not looking for that. I mean, it's been a while since I was with anyone and it's not that I don't want to but it's like being hungry and not having an appetite. I don't have appetites for anything lately.

"I'm Jennifer but all my friends call me Jen," she says, I'm glad she isn't offering me her hand because I'm not sure if I would of have bothered to shake hers back.

It's cold anyway and we both have our hands in our pockets. She has on a lovely red trench coat, it's flashy. Nothing she would ever wear.
I shrug and she laughs my lack of reply off and then, like I hadn't already lost it - I lose it. That sound it sounds just like her.

She notices the change in my demeanour and quickly decides to explain herself.

"You probably heard how I lost my brother back there..." she waits for me to nod, to do anything but I'm still blank, I'm replaying her laugh "But what I didn't say was that I was so shit faced I barely remember anything about that night, people had to tell me everything to fill in the pieces when I woke up and it just ate me alive, you know." She looks at me like she knows I know "but I started doing this," she points to the building "and it helped. After a while I started being, not myself, not the person I was but I started living again. Now, I am this." She swings her hands to sort of point at herself "This version."

I cock my head to the side like I am waiting for her to say what she means so she nervously tries to get to the point.

"I don't even need it now, that's how great these support groups are if you let them help you. I wanted to tell you that because you didn't look like you were planning to come back." I'm not expecting it so when it happens I have nothing to do but stand there and feel her touch of her small hand that is now on my shoulder trying to convey something to me "it gets better,"
Maybe it does, I don't know.

But all of a sudden I open my mouth and I am asking her out for a coffee.
What the fuck am I even thinking?
It's that fucking laugh. Even after all she did I still yearn for her. So much so I am willing to settle for a replicate of hers.