Hold On To Me

Long reading.

There she was.

Sitting at the edge of my bed with a cigarette between her pure teeth, was an old friend of mine who was rushing to try to spark it up with her brother’s beat up, plain lighter (which she stole while he was out).

I got tired of standing with my back against the wall, just to watch her thumb fail at a couple of attempts. I decided it was only fair to spare her the embarrassment for not exactly knowing what she was doing, so I swiftly took the lighter from her, ignoring her mumbles of protest.

Once I lit it with experienced ease and patience over the years of smoking these cancerous sticks, she meekly said thank you with her gaze away from mine.

She was crying in her car before she barged into my apartment. Not that I wasn’t surprised, I just wasn’t expecting her to already be nearby since our prior conversation was over the phone as she cried to me.

That was two hours ago.

It didn’t bother me when she made itself known that she was going to be sticking around a little longer than promised.

“I just need a friend to talk to.. I promise once I’m good,  I will get out of your way and we can call it whatever you want.”

I didn’t buy it just one bit.

As jaded as it may sound, I don’t contemplate as much as I used to with people’s words.

They say one thing when they really mean another.

Take this woman here for example. She knows with the temperament I have, that if it wasn’t for her calling me crying that she needed someone to be there for her, I would nonetheless tell her to f**k off. Of course promising me a great deal that she will be out of my sight right after, I had fallen into the depths of her dark abyss and now I’m stuck.

Once again.

“I’m sorry.”

Her voice was at a low volume, but I was still able to acknowledge that it was there.

All I could come up with was a grunt, immediately regretting it as the half upward smile on her face began to quiver.

S**t.

I was at a loss with what to do. What to say. How to approach the situation with a less hostile attitude.

Scratching at the back of my head, I thought of words to come up with while she still sat on my bed examining her first cigarette, reconsidering whether or not she should try it I’m guessing.

“It’s okay.”

Surprising the both of us when I said it out loud, I cleared my throat and simply walked out of my room into the living room to sit on the couch instead of standing around making uneasy small talk.

They weren’t the first choice of words I had in mind, but they seemed to be more rational than anything else.

I couldn’t help but crack a smile as reality finally hit me in the face for the first time.

It felt  like months since I’ve seen or spoken to her.

Over a year huh?

Where has the time gone?

Work and staying in the apartment to catch up on some sleep has been the only things keeping me occupied. Not to mention the sessions I have with my therapist here and there when I need it.

It took some time, but I finally heard rustling in the next room and her cautious footsteps heading towards me.

My muscles tighten when she took her seat next to me, causing the room to spin and my agitation to increase. Still, I kept my cool and begin to focus on other things in the room and making excuses to think of irrelevant s**t like; why was there an empty bottle of wine lying on top of the coffee table or wondering if Jason had received my text (did that f****r even text me back?).

“Redd..”

There was a long pause when she said my name that I wasn’t sure if she was waiting on me to respond or if she was just having trouble in trying to get her words out.

Preparing myself for what I’ve been avoiding since the incident, I slump down and place my forearm over my head and look towards the ceiling.

What felt like a long time of waiting, she squirms under pressure and blurts the question none of us knew she had the guts to.

“Do I hate you?”

I ask aloud, confusing her when I didn’t give her a straightforward answer.

Truth is, I never found the answer to that question.

She asks again when she’s seen my ability to focus dissipated while I thought hard of an answer.

“I don’t know.”

We both sit in silence.

None of us knowing what else to say after admitting what I’ve kept in for so long.

It was now past 2:00am and I was never more glad to see her get off the couch and pick up her keys from the dinner table.

“Kayla.”

She stops mid-way by the front door and looks over her shoulder, and I mentally curse myself for making eye contact with those honey orbs I’ve fallen in love with years ago.

Swallowing my pride for the first time, I could feel my chest tighten and my head spin for what I was about to say next, but not knowing when I will see her again sort of left me feeling in a daze.

“I hope you learn to love yourself someday.”

She cracks a smile and whispers a goodbye.

And just like that she was gone.