𝕤𝕒𝕟 𝕗𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠 • 𝕝.𝕙

thirty-five

The windows of my living-room flung open, cool, California winter air hitting me in the face as I could hear Lisa behind me, coming up the stairs.

"That was the last box," she announced. "This was long."

"Thanks for making the trip," I smiled. 

I was home. After a couple of weeks of Brad and Joelle fighting with the administration to organise my return to San Francisco, I was back. Sure, living in a ratty apartment (the only one I'd managed to find on such short notice), half of my savings gone, not quite sure whatever would happen next, but I was back.

I didn't know how I had gotten so lucky with work, but I chose to not question it. I knew that I had the worst karma in the world... And seeing something working out for once was unexpected and more than welcomed.

I felt gutted about not being able to get my old place back, but this was how things went. The new place wasn't so bad... For the price, I guess. The floor was creaking and the walls had some questionable stains on them, but at least, I had a roof over my head. I couldn't have imagined staying with Lisa after all that she'd done for me, after her sorting the apartment out, after her driving up to Portland to help me move back down.

This felt like a fresh start. It was December, Christmas had just passed, and I felt ready to make amends and step into the new year with a brand new attitude and apologise to whoever deserved it... Even though I knew that they probably wouldn't want to hear from me. And I understood. I wasn't even sure that I wanted to hear from them, either.

"Today is December 28th," Lisa started saying, walking towards me, holding her arms out. "And my best friend is home."

She pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tightly. It was as if the weight of the world had gotten off my shoulders, and that I could breathe again; the familiar feeling of being in the city I knew, around the people I loved, going back to my old job as soon as the winter break was over felt overwhelmingly good. 

"I don't know why I went to Portland," I just said, pulling back. "This was a waste of time."

"Shut up," Lisa replied. "It wasn't a waste of time. It was like... Like a reset. You needed time away to realise what you wanted."

I shrugged. "Maybe you're right."

"I love you," she said, reaching for my hand. "These past few months have been shit. But you get to start fresh."

"I love you, too," I smiled.

"I know. Let's get some of your stuff unpacked before I head home. I'll order dinner."

I looked outside the window as I could see the sun setting behind the buildings. I was almost brought to tears by how everything felt. The emotions going through me were unbearably intense. But like Lisa had just said, I was home. And I could breathe.

✴

I lit up a match, the flame illuminating my surroundings shortly, as I lit the candle on my bedside table.

It was the middle of the night, and despite today being hectic and frankly a little crazy, I couldn't find sleep. I felt restless and agitated, and couldn't wind down.

Lisa had stayed until an hour ago, and we ate dinner while trying to put things away as quickly as possible. Most of the crockery had been put in cupboards, a food shopping was on its way in the morning, and my bedroom was almost ready and finally done. Boxes had been thrown away, and this felt a little more homey. Finally.

As I laid down in my bed, parasite thoughts were popping up every now and then; thoughts of Luke, of Calum, of my friend Andy, whose calls I'd been ignoring for the past week. Of Mia, and of whatever she was up to. I was hoping that she still worked at the publishing house. Not keeping in touch had been my fault entirely. Thinking that running away and starting somewhere new would fix things was a lie, because eventually, I'd always find my way back home, and old demons and unfinished business would creep their way back to me. It was inevitable.

I wanted to write apology letters to everybody, but I felt like that would make me a scared dickhead who couldn't face the music and tell those things in person. In person... Who would want to see me in person after all I'd done? Could I ever convince them that I was truly sorry? Was I sure that I would ever change and sort my shit out? Maybe I'd stay messy and in pain forever, and everybody else would have to deal with that. But who the fuck would want to?

Nobody but Lisa and work knew that I was back. I didn't know for how long I wanted things to stay that way. And as I stared at my phone screen, in the dark of the night, I wanted to call someone, to have them by my side. Being alone felt too haunting.

✴

"I've missed you," I smiled, looking down at my cup of tea.

"I've missed you too, Lex," the masculine voice next to me said. "Three months felt like a lot."

I turned around to take a look at my friend. I was surprised that he had made the trip that late at night, and that he had accepted to see me even after disappearing for weeks.

"Andy," I put my hand on his arm. "I'm so sorry."

He shifted on the couch, nodding. "I know. It was just... I didn't understand what... I'd done. Or what anyone had done to you."

"Yeah," I looked away. "Nothing, really. I had a moment."

"Are you okay?" he asked, genuinely. When I turned to look at him, he had a look of concern on his face. "Did something happen in Portland?"

"It was just cold," I half-joked.

"I'm asking you, really..."

I shook my head. "No, Andy. Nothing happened in Portland. That's not why I came back."

"Why did you, then?"

I froze, not really knowing what to say. I could either admit everything that I had done; from breaking-up with Luke, to sleeping with his best friend, to me not being able to admit that I had messed up and running away... To come back to fix things, ending up making things even worse by sleeping with said best friend again... To having Luke telling me that he never wanted to see me again.

"I've felt like San Francisco made me really unhappy," I just said. "You know, like... Like it wasn't my place."

"But did it? Make you unhappy?"

I took a deep breath. "I don't think so. I think I was making myself unhappy."