OXYGEN

49 - When I Look at You

Entering my bedroom, all I wanted to do was jump into bed. I changed into a loose black shirt along with sweatpants and washed my face. I only checked my phone once and much to my surprise, there were no messages or missed phone calls from Forrest.

I ignored the puzzle pieces on the floor, not wanting to think about the past night, but there was something that caught my eye. His hoodie. Somehow, it had ended up buried in my pillows, a small portion of the maroon fabric emerging. Uncertainly, I grabbed it and failed to stop myself from wearing it.

Although I preferred his arms, the hoodie would have to do.

It would be what kept me warm tonight.

***

The week crawled by painfully slow; time took its time leaving. Forrest still didn't try to contact me, but I forced myself to not let my patience die. I truly believed he would come to me when he was ready, and I didn't know how long it would take, but I would be here anyway.

While I waited for him to make up his mind, I occupied myself with aimless activities. I finished the puzzle, but there was no satisfaction once it was completed. I took a look at the list of things I wanted to do before I died, and on Tuesday, exactly one week after my suicide attempt, I decided to do #8. I bought myself a small chocolate cake and told the baker to literally put congratulations on being alive. She shot me a funny look, but nonetheless, with pale-blue frosting, she followed my request.

I ate two slices of the cake and even offered some to my grandfather. After he gave me one of his heartwarming replies (Are you trying to kill me with diabetes?), I stored it in the fridge. It didn't taste as good as it was supposed to, mainly because I didn't have anyone to share it with.

Throughout the drawn-out hours, there were some moments where I felt fine, and there were other moments where I withered. Just a glance at the ceiling made me ache. The last thing I wanted was to lose Forrest, but did I ever really have him in the first place? I didn't want to be the girl he settled for; I wanted to be his one and only. That wasn't asking for too much – was it?

By Friday, a familiar loneliness returned to me. I knew it all too well. It was the kind of loneliness that made you feel out-of-place in a crowded room, but in my case, I felt like I didn't belong with the rest of the world. With Forrest, I somehow forgot what this loneliness was; without him, it gnawed at me again, harsher than before.

That night, I was already choking on doubt. I kept wondering when he would talk to me, what he would say, and how we would end up. The following day was when we were supposed to be going on our first date, and I didn't know if it was canceled or not.

And then the phone call came.

At first, there was complete silence. "Hello?" I murmured, my chest tight. "Forrest?"

"June . . ." I closed my eyes, the sound of my name from his mouth electrifying me. I missed him far more than I wanted to admit. "Can you . . . can you meet me at the lake?" The exhaustion in his voice took me by surprise.

"Now?" It was already seven o'clock.

"Please," he gently urged. Much to my displeasure, the one word was enough – I felt myself slowly surrender.

I let a moment stretch on before saying, "Okay."

He hung up.

***

The sun was already gone and the sky began to blacken. Instead of walking like usual, I decided to drive, and for safety measures, I brought a flashlight with me. For some reason, I wasn't nervous or apprehensive – I was feeling something I couldn't quite describe, some sort of composure. I parked in front of the beige Corolla alongside the road and stepped out with one thought.