“Are you driving?” Her voice was quiet and weak––it still cut through me like a blade.
“I’ve pulled over. You can talk if you want to talk. Why did you do it, Lind?”
“Because I feel like shit.”
“Lind––”
“You don’t need to tell me it was foolish, I know. And selfish, and pathetic, and… terrible… I… I’m sorry you saw me. Thank you for helping me. I think I’m gonna have a lot of apologizing to do.” She took a breath. “Say sorry to Jason too.” She hung up.
Shit, I smacked the wheel with the heel of my palm. Why did she have to be so frickin’ hard? Why did she have to hurt me so much? Why the fuck did I have to care about her? I wished my asshole of a heart would fall for someone else.
Dammit.
I called her back. “Don’t hang up on me. Are you still in the hospital?”
“Yeah.”
“How long for?”
“They’re going to let me go soon, but I’ve got to see a psychiatrist first.”
“Well that sounds like a good idea. Look, I’m here for you. I know I’ve been a shit friend for the last few months, but, forget that, forgive me, and let’s make up and be friends again.”
She didn’t say anything. I didn’t push it. She had a lot to forgive me for.
“Why did you do it, Lind?”
“It was stupid, I––”
“This is me you’re talking to, be honest. Why did you do it?”
She sighed. I imagined the air leaving her lips. I’d watched her sigh so many times in the last year or so.
“Because Jason had the baby and he’s so happy, and his life is perfect and my life…” she started crying. We were back to what Lindy and I had always been––I was her confidante, her life coach, her safety net, her servant, her punch-bag…God the list went on. I was everything, without getting anything I wanted. Her fucking fool.
She took a breath. “I hear myself, and I hate me. I know why you and Jason and everyone else dislikes me because––”
“Everyone doesn’t dislike you, Lind––” and I love you..
“It’s okay if you do dislike me. I understand…”
“Well I don’t, Lindy. I feel like I’ve let you down. I should’ve been around for you.”
“My mess isn’t your fault, Billy. You can’t do a thing to change it.”
I could. “I want to help you.”
“You can’t.”
“Let me be your friend again, Lindy. Let me make things up to you.”
“Billy, honestly, you have nothing to make up.”
“Well, I can’t stand seeing you like I did last night.”
“Sorry.”
I took a breath. “Do you want me to come and get you from the hospital later?”
“No, Dad’ll come.”
“Well then, text me when you get home and we’ll organize something. I’ll come over and see you.”
“Okay.” I could imagine her nodding, but I heard uncertainty in her voice.
“Lindy, you need a friend. That’s all I’m offering, I promise. No expectations. No pressure.” She didn’t have anyone else. She’d dumped all her girlfriends when we’d gone to college. She’d been one hundred percent full-on all over Jason since we’d left school. She’d isolated herself and that’s why we’d spent so much time together when he’d gone to New York. I was the only friend she had left. And that was torture.
“Okay, maybe. It depends how I feel.”
I couldn’t ask her for more.
“Don’t do it again, Lind. And if you’re tempted, call me…” But then I remembered the one night she had called me when it was late… Crap, I was not the one she’d pick to call.
“Bye.” The word ran through me. It sounded final. I couldn’t have stood it if anything had actually happened… if she’d succeeded and killed herself.
“Take care of yourself.”
“Thanks, Billy. And you will say thank you to Jason? I know he didn’t have to help me.” She hung up.
But why wouldn’t he have helped her? He’d just fallen in love with someone else; he didn’t want to see her dead.
When we’d been at school she’d been full of vitality––energy––she’d always been smiling. When we hit college she’s started changing.
Well, whatever, there was nothing I could do right now.
I slipped the SUV back into drive, looked in the side mirror, to check nothing was coming, waited until a vehicle passed, then pulled out and drove home.
Lindy
My finger kept hovering over Billy’s name in the contacts list on my cell. I’d seen the psychiatrist and she’d told me I had to start seeing her regularly, to talk out all the stuff going on in my life––and in my head. Then I’d come home and all the stuff going on in my life had hit me in the face. There was an atmosphere in the house. Fear. Loneliness. Pain. Because Mom was sick––she couldn’t help being sick––but I had to watch her wither away. It was too hard––I didn’t want to let her go.
My head, belly and heart ached. Life had been hard and cruel for too long. That’s why I’d tried to end it––I’d just been selfish for a moment. I’d tried to escape everything; Mom and Jason. His baby had been the thing that slid me over the Niagara Falls of despair, though.
But I wouldn’t do it again. I’d learned my lesson. Guilt was heavy. Mom had looked hurt and disappointed and Dad hadn’t been able to hide how bad he’d have felt if I’d succeeded.
If I was meant to die I’d have died. I was meant to face up to all this bullshit and keep going.
And Mom…
Now I could see all the stuff I’d been blind to.
I felt lousy, not because I’d swallowed a massive dose of happy pills, but because I’d hurt my parents.
Mom had every reason to bow out, and she didn’t––I’d tried.
I needed someone to hold me. I felt sore inside.
I touched the screen. Billy’s picture and details came up. He smiled at me out of the cell, with those warm dark-blue eyes of his. My thumb hovered over his number.
We hadn’t spoken since just after New Year, until I’d called him the other day. But I had no one else. He’d been the closest person to me other than Jason for years.
I wished what had happened, hadn’t…
I shut my eyes––I wish, I wish, I wish. If I had shiny red shoes on and clicked my heels, I wondered if I could go back in time, to when everything was right, then I could make sure everything stayed right.
That’s what my life had become––wishes that things had not happened, wishes that they wouldn’t, wishes that people would stay in my life.
I’d lost my friends. I’d given them up in favor of Jason, and look how that had ended. He’d moved on and left me behind. The only friend I’d had left was his best friend, until I’d messed that up too.
I