Close As Enemies

Fifteen.

Now Playing... Jet Black Heart 

    There is a certain comfort in someone holding you protectively, like if they let you go, it wouldn't be safe enough for you to be alone. That was how it felt when I woke up the next morning, still in Wes' arms. I was warm, and I felt safe. My head was still lying against his chest, and his arms held me tightly, as if one wrong move and I would be gone forever.

"What time is it?" He mumbled, his voice raspy from sleep, and I smiled softly, snuggling closer to him.

"Eight in the morning."

"Good. Now we can talk."

And the good moment was ruined.

I groaned, rolling on my side, and he chuckled before wrapping his arms around me once again.

"Let's start with the obvious. We were both drunk out of our minds." He said, sighing.

"That seems to be a negative for us every time." I mumbled. Memories flashed through my mind, but I forced myself to ignore them.

"I know. It never made sense to me." He paused. "If I'm being honest, I don't remember much. I only remember seeing you Logan, and the way he was looking at you rubbed me wrong. So I grabbed your hand. After that, everything is blurry."

I smirked at him. "You were jealous?"

He scoffed. "Me? Jealous because of you?" He chuckled. "Don't flatter yourself too much."

I rolled my eyes, wiggling out of his arms. He tried to reach for me again, but I pushed him away. "Why do I even bother with you?"

"The same reason I bother with you." He rolled onto his back, his hands behind his head. "I'm sorry for that night at the party. I'm sorry for the first time it happened too."

"Why did you do it?"

He glanced at me. "Do what?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "The first time..."

"I..." He rubbed the back of his neck, unable to look at me. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?" I questioned, leaning up on my elbows, but he still wouldn't look at me, and it made me curious.

"Please just trust me, Molly."

I bitterly laughed. "That's easier said than done, isn't it? Especially after everything you've done to break my trust."

"It was a mistake. Can you at least believe that?" He finally looked at me, and his eyes told me he was distressed, but I couldn't bring myself to believe him.

"I can't, because even if it was a mistake, you would've apologized after. But you never did." I looked away from him, my eyes burning. "You just let me suffer for two years after. Do you know how many nightmares I had because of you? I couldn't sleep for two weeks straight because I was so scared of you doing it again."

He sighed, trying to move closer to me, but I stood, causing him to sigh again. "That wasn't my intention."

"Yeah, well, I thought you cared enough to not ruin my life." I finally looked at him again. "It's funny how wrong I was."

***

"Molly Clarke?"

I stood, letting out a deep breath as I followed the nurse to another room. For a couple minutes, I sat in silence, but then my therapist walked in, greeting me with a smile.

"Hi, Molly." She sat in the chair across from me, clasping her hands in her lap. "How have you been feeling?"

"Okay. I've been happier lately, but sometimes I get into these moods that I can't get out of, and it's hard." I admitted, lowering my head, but Dr. Faith smiled, patting my knee.

"That's normal, especially with depression. As long as you don't let those episodes manipulate you to the point of really bad thoughts like we've talked about before." She shifted in her chair to grab the notebook on the table. "Speaking of, have you had any urges to..."

I sighed. "Once, but it was only because of the message board again."

"Something else is bothering you." She said, and I glanced at her, frowning. "You can talk to me, Molly. I'm here to help you."

"My mom's best friend's son moved in. It would've been okay, but he... he was my best friend at one point. We did everything together, and I knew he was the one person I could rely on for anything." I sighed, looking away. "But two years ago, we got into a really big fight and h-he, um, left. I know I should be over it by now, but he was one of the most important people in my life, and even if we are enemies now, I still miss him as my best friend."

"There is nothing wrong with missing him, nor is there anything wrong with you not being over it yet. Healing from losing a friend takes time, especially when they were so important. Plus, I can tell from the way you talked about him that you two were very close, and that in itself is something hard to move on from. You have a big, sensitive heart, Molly, and because of that, you care more. You hold onto things longer. It's not a bad thing. In fact, many people find that admirable."

I bit my lip. "Even if he doesn't treat me good now? How can I still care? How can a part of me still wish we were friends again?"

"When we had a good relationship with someone and it goes bad, our mind never forgets the good we saw in them. When people see the good in everyone else, they continue to see that good, even after the relationship has ended. You still care because he was important to you, and he was-- probably still is-- a good person. That's the image you've painted of him in your mind, and no matter what happened to your friendship, that is the image you will continue to see."

"I miss him, you know? Even after the way he's changed and what he's done to me, I can't stop missing him."

She gave me a soft smile. "We always miss people who leave, even if our subconscious wills us to forget them. Everyone we meet always holds a place in our mind and hearts. Don't feel guilty for missing him. Even if he isn't the person you once knew, your heart still recognizes him as the best friend he used to be."

After our talk, she asked me the normal questions about my depression, and once we were done, she gave me a new prescription for my medicine. Before I left, she gave me a small hug. "Take care, Molly."

As I walked to my truck, I noticed she upped my medicine. Sighing, I drove home. When I walked through the door, I sat on the couch in the living room and turned on Rocky.

"Rocky, huh?" Wes' deep voice asked as the couch sank from him sitting. I nodded. "I love Rocky movies. They're classics."

When I didn't answer, he sighed. "You're just gonna stay quiet?" Silence. "Seriously, Molly?"

"I don't know what to say, Wes." I whispered, glancing at him, and he bowed his head.

"I don't know if this means anything to you, but I'm sorry."

Before I could answer, he had already disappeared, leaving me alone with my confused thoughts.