Daron's Guitar Chronicles Volume 12

906 Smells Like Teen Spirit

Smells Like Teen Spirit

I don't remember buying the CD and I don't remember leaving the store. I have a vague memory that before we left we got recognized by someone on the staff, but managed to escape before it could turn into anything. Maybe Michelle promised we'd be back or something.

Mostly I remember trying not to cry in public, but tears are the only thing that can break through a dam in my throat like that. I don't actually remember when I started. I think some parts of my brain just shut down for a while. Emotional overload or whatever you want to call it will do that, I guess.

The three of them took me back to the apartment and stayed with me. At the time I thought it was really thoughtful for them to be so supportive. It didn't occur to me until later that they were worried I'd do something like run off and hide in a water tank. I didn't feel like that. I didn't want to run away. Not from them, anyway. If I wanted to run away from anything right then it was the pain itself, because stark truths always fucking hurt.

Some time in the wee hours Bart and Michelle went home. I was curled up on the couch in the fetal position, too exhausted to cry anymore. Ziggy came and put a blanket over me. "Do you want to stay here or can I convince you to come get in the bed?"

"Um." Some ragged thoughts bumped against each other in my head, but didn't form anything like a plan of action or a decision. "Uh."

"Because I am not looking forward to sleeping on the floor here."

Oh. The realization that me being upset was upsetting him, too, seeped in. "Sorry. Just–"

He squished one buttcheek onto the couch with me and brushed a hand over my hair. "No need to apologize. But I think you'll thank me later if you let me put you in bed."

"Yeah, all right." I tried to sit up and bumped my cheek against his. He'd been leaning down to kiss me at the same time.

Ziggy steered me into the bathroom and I saw the sense in brushing my teeth and stuff while I was in there. I had a moment of feeling sheepish and ashamed of how emotional I'd gotten. It felt very obvious when I was doing something as mundane as brushing my teeth that my emotional outburst was kind of ridiculous.

I said as much to Ziggy after we got in bed. "I'm sorry about that."

"About what?"

"Freaking out on you like that. I don't know what came over me."

"Well, I do." He fussed with getting the covers over us the way he liked them. "Life goals and aspirations are a pretty big deal, you know."

"Yeah, but..."

"But nothing. We've been over this, Daron. It's okay to have a feeling."

That did sound very familiar. "Is this the thing where if I bottle up my feelings for too long, they explode?"

He made a sound in the dark like he was trying not to laugh. "What do you think?"

"The fact I said it is probably a hint, isn't it."

"You could ask your shrink if you want to be sure."

"I think I know what I'll be talking to her about this week."

In the morning I was still emotionally raw, but before I was really fully awake Ziggy asked me to make love to him and I did. To say we both felt better afterwards is probably an understatement.

It wasn't until later that day (or maybe the next) that I got a sense of how insecure he had started to feel while I was out of it. We were making dinner. He was slicing up sausages and browning them in a pan while I boiled the water for pasta and simmered the sauce. I was talking on the phone to Jonathan at the same time.