Sanity // s.m. [IN EDITING]

[13]

Shawn

***

When I woke up the next morning to Andrew whacking me with a pillow, as per usual, I felt like I didn't get much sleep. Presumably because I didn't, really, I kept thinking about random things.

I wondered about Elliot, and how bad I felt for just leaving her in the middle of the airport like that. I wondered what it would've been like if Sarah didn't show up and Elliot was the one here with me. But then I had to mentally slap myself, since we all know that would go down in yet another famous Shawn-and-Elliot argument, and she would end up leaving.

Or maybe it wouldn't, and we'd fall back in love and recapitulate everything as if the last four years never happened. But it didn't matter, because I had an actual girlfriend, who was here with me.

"Ready to go?" Andrew calls from the door.

I don't say anything, just nod and grab my suitcase, since we'll be going straight to the airport after the show to get to Ireland.

"Did you warm up in the shower?"

I nod.

"Did you take your pills?"

For some reason, the reality behind that question made my eyes sting.

I guess it never fully sunk in that I have to take actual pills to be okay. I have to rely on medication to keep me sane when I'm shuffling through a crowd of screaming teenagers, I have to put all my trust in a little bean-shaped dissolving container of powder in order to keep my brain functioning properly, in order to have my sanity by my side.

I told Andrew to never let me have them. I didn't want to get in the habit of letting other things heal me.

But I already had my sanity when Elliot was by my side, and it's taken me much to long to figure out that I won't ever get that back in the same way.

"No, I didn't. Hold on," I say, letting go of my suitcase and allowing it to stand up on its own while I go into the bathroom, pulling the bottle out of the pocket of my jeans and twisting the cap off.

I turn on the sink and cup my left hand, the water filling the inside of my palm as I toss one pill in my right hand, then swallow it with the water, and repeat the process for my second pill.

I turn the water off, wiping my mouth with my sleeve as I put the bottle back in my pocket, heading out into the room and grabbing my suitcase again. I was still right on the verge of tears, but I knew I'd be fine. Playing shows is always an experience I dread before and after I do its, but never during. I was going to be okay.

I follow Andrew down the hallway to the elevators, and we wait for Sarah in the lobby, where my name is continually chanted from outside the doors.

"Sorry, my alarm didn't go off!" Sarah says frantically as she rushes towards us, the second the elevator opens. She was wearing a light grey lace cropped top with a darker grey cardigan draped over her shoulders, her blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun. I take her in from head to toe, smiling.

"You're fine," I say. "Andrew woke me up a little early anyways."

"If the show starts at eight p.m., remind me, why do we have to be there at seven a.m.?" She stretches her arms out in front of her.

I was about to answer, but Andrew butts in. "Sound check, so if there's any problems they have all day to fix it."

"So. . . what do you do all day?"

"Sit in the dressing room on my phone," I answer.

She makes a face. "Isn't he allowed to leave?" she asks Andrew, pointing to me.