Chapter 46 Autumn
Autumn
One summer. It took one summer to ruin my life.
I allowed my life to become such a disaster in such a short time. I was a mess, and I could really only be mad at myself.
As much as I blamed it all on him at first, it wasn’t all his fault. I allowed it to happen. I was a willing participant in something that hurt so many people, including myself.
And the worst part about it was that I was so happy. I was so hopeful that this was it for us that I ignored every gut feeling telling me it was wrong and that the end was certain. The more I dwelled on it, the more I convinced myself that I deserved this, too.
I deserved to spend months alone and miserable. I told him he would have to live with it, not yet ready to accept that, so would I. I would also have to live with my part in the mess. So, I did.
I moved on, living life alone again. I worked and I slept. I occasionally caught up with Kory, but in reality, the ‘catch-ups’ were her coming to check on me. The more she told me she was worried about me, the more I wanted to crawl into a hole. I was worried about myself, too.
You know that scene in New Moon after Edward leaves and Bella sits in the window for months? That’s exactly what those first few months felt like for me. The holidays and even my birthday passed in a hopeless blur.
I did nothing. I was in a depressed, robotic-like routine, and it was rare that I left my bed.
Unlike Bella, I had to pay bills, but if I wasn’t at work, that’s where you’d find me.
Crying was my only hobby. I don’t know if I slept or cried more, but I definitely preferred sleeping.
I didn’t feel anything when I was asleep.
I knew this would happen. At eighteen, I knew leaving him where we stood was my only choice. I knew it. But I came back anyway, and I think that’s actually the worst part.
Before I knew it, the sadness was gone, and only anger was left.
I was mad at myself. I was mad at him. I was mad at Becca. It wasn’t her fault, but I couldn’t help it. If he’d never been with her, we could’ve been so happy, so good together.
But that made me mad at myself again because had I never left, would they have even gotten together?
I thought getting out was the answer, but maybe my leaving was what, in fact, ruined our chances. Had I not run away, maybe everything would be different. I was also mad that I didn’t try to call him again. Why did I only try once?
And then I was mad at him again. Why didn’t he try harder to talk to me when I left? Why didn’t he fight for me then? Why couldn’t he just admit his feelings, and I would’ve never left in the first place? If he had asked me to stay, I would have. But he didn’t. He didn’t even text me back.
Not that I wanted to be seen out in public anyway, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave my apartment because I didn’t want to see him. I couldn’t. It was a risk I knew I couldn’t handle.
My mom would bring me groceries, not so subtly checking up on me, too. She would sit at the foot of my bed, quietly rubbing my leg. I knew she didn’t know what to say, but she wanted to be there, and I appreciated that.
I had to block both Jimmy and Becca on social media, too.
Avoiding them in person wouldn’t help if I could see them through the phone screen.
I was never friends with Becca, but I could see her posts if he was tagged.
She posted a picture of the two of them, cuddled up on the couch with Rex and Rosie the cat that didn’t like him, clearly all happy to have him home.
I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing their updates as they moved on with their wonderful life, while I couldn’t get out of bed.
As tears flowed, I wished they could turn into a river to transport me back to my apartment in Wisconsin, back to a time when at least I was happy being alone.
But then in March everything changed again, for the worse, even though I didn’t think that was possible. The COVID-19 pandemic.
I no longer had time to reel in my self-pity. My work life had also suddenly been rocked to the core, and people were dying around me every day.
In this line of work, we try to mentally prepare for the loss of patients because you know it’s going to happen at some point. But nothing prepares you for something of this magnitude.
No amount of schooling prepares you to hold the phone while family members cry and say their goodbyes via video chat.
No textbook prepares you for the number of phone calls you have to make, telling people their loved one didn’t or won’t make it.
No medical research prepares you for your hospital to run out of equipment, and there is literally nothing you can do for new patients until someone else dies.
Then, on top of it all, worrying about your safety.
The world stopped. Schools closed, stores closed, even doctors’ offices closed. Places that were open only allowed a certain number of people in at a time and made sure everyone stood six feet apart. People were even sanitizing their groceries after they bought them.
But we couldn’t close. We were the one place that had to remain open and couldn’t even guarantee that ‘safe’ distance because we had beds everywhere.
People who were coming in for regular things weren’t receiving the care they needed because hospitals were overloaded with COVID patients.
Routine procedures were cancelled or pushed far out into the future.
Some nurses like me were pulled from our departments to help with the increase in need in the ERs and ICUs.
Once COVID hit, my life, which was already flipped upside down, got picked up and shaken, emptying out everything I had left.
At some point in the chaos, hospitals started searching for travel nurses because the demand never slowed.
Medical staff were quitting, and some got sick themselves.
Other regions were hit harder than us, and they just needed more people.
Hospitals literally ran out of staff, so they were paying people to relocate and work for them for a contracted amount of time.
As soon as I heard about the opportunity, I took it.
Yes, I was absolutely running away again. But I needed that break. I wasn’t just running away from him and the looks I still received every now and then; I was running away from that hospital, which had become another source of trauma.
I knew I wasn’t going to save everybody from COVID, but by getting on that first plane, taking the chance to get out of there and away from everyone we knew, and an immense amount of virtual therapy, I saved myself.