46. Week Four
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
week four
IMOGEN
“Any word from Roman?” I ask, passing over a few decorations for the tree. Logan’s throwing a little Christmas party this weekend, so he dragged me out of bed to help with the decorating. He even enlisted Piper, Jay, and Abi to lift my spirits, though he claimed it was for party prep. I’m not sure how well it’s working, but it is kind of nice not to be both miserable and alone.
“Sorry Iggy. I tried texting, tried calling… I even tried going straight to the source and buzzing his apartment. Pretended to be the pizza guy.” He shakes his head. “He wouldn’t even answer the intercom.”
What’s driving me crazy is I don’t even understand what happened; all I know is one day he just stopped communicating, not just with me but with everyone. It’s been torture staring at my phone, just willing him to text or call this whole last week, so much so I’d even be happy with a single stupid emoji at this point.
But as pissed off as I am, I have to admit I can sort of relate.
I’ve become a shut-in over the past few weeks myself, because I’d much rather be in bed than be around people pitying me. Unfortunately, all I do lately is spend most of my free time going through old texts trying to figure out what I did to push Roman away.
I don’t handle rejection well, not below the surface at least. I internalize it and spend forever blaming myself: not good enough, not funny enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough.
Not worthy of sticking around for.
No matter what it was, I had to have done something.
My therapist called it ‘rejection sensitive dysphoria’, and when it sinks its ugly little teeth into you, it can feel like the world is ending.
“What’s the dude’s deal anyway?” Jay asks. “Is it really that hard to pick up a phone and send a text? That’s the decent thing to do.”
“Thanks, Jay.”
“I got your back, girl, don’t worry.”
“I mean… it’s complicated,” Logan murmurs, immediately drawing Abi’s ire.
“No, you don’t get to make excuses for him!”
“I’m not trying to make excuses, Abi. He just slips into these massive bouts of depression, and it’s hard for him to climb out of them. It doesn’t mean I’m not pissed off at him for doing what he’s doing, it’s just… complicated.”
I can tell Logan is doing his best to cover up how helpless he feels, because I’ve heard some of the voicemails he’s left over the past few days. He’s been trying to keep his tone measured and cool, to stay supportive to both of us at the same time, but It’s clear this whole thing is starting to wear on him.
On the other hand, I’m just dealing with a shitload of my own questions that I don’t have the answers to.
Is Roman okay? Are we okay?
Will we even be able to make it through this?
And what happens next if we don’t?
“Not that anyone asked for my opinion,” Piper interjects, staring down at us from the top of a ladder. “But Roman probably feels like this is his fault. Iggy’s got to change schools and he needs to prepare for what I would assume is a pretty invasive disciplinary hearing. He might feel disconnected, or maybe he doesn’t want to burden anyone with his own baggage.”
“Depressed or not, nearly two weeks is a long-ass time to go without even saying hi to someone you said you loved,” Jay replies, pointing at Piper. “Imagine if I went two whole weeks without talking to you.”
Piper smirks, brandishing a candy cane like a knife.
“I’d kick your fucking door down.”
I think the old me would have done the same, gone right to Roman’s apartment and hit that buzzer until he had to let me in, so that he could see what the fuck he was doing to me. Sometimes I think about it to the point where I actually get dressed, and almost even make it to my front door.
But then that anger dissolves into pure, undistilled anxiety.
It’s possible that the past month has given him a lot of time to think about us, about the future, and about how it’s all going to work out.
Or how it’s not.
I feel another rush of tears coming on, my nose stinging as all of my fears claw their way back up to the surface. I gave this man my heart and now he won’t even talk to me.
“Maybe all of it’s just too hard.” My voice breaks as I crouch down, struggling to grab another decoration. “Maybe he doesn’t want this anymore, and?—”
It’s too hard to get the words out.
Great. Now everyone in this room is looking at me like I’m some fragile vase on the brink of tipping over. I liked it better when I didn’t feel anything at all.
“I need some air.”
I head out back to the patio, greeted by the smell of crisp winter rain. It’s pouring, the clouds hanging thick in the sky as the massive trees that surround the backyard sway ever so slightly in the wind. I take a breath, easing myself into one of the small patio chairs barely covered by the awning. Aside from opening a window in my bedroom, I haven’t really been outside that much during this whole thing. I don’t have anywhere to go, but more importantly I don’t want to start crying in the grocery store. Again.
I pull my phone out, hoping beyond hope.
Nothing from Roman.
I really was starting to think things were going to work out here, really started to believe the two of us had something special. Now I want to throw this phone into the bay for all the anxiety and sleepless nights it’s given me.
I guess that’s what you get for opening up.
What a fucking idiot.
I bristle at the sound of the patio door creaking open, expecting my brother to be checking in on me for the 100th time.
“You didn’t think we’d let you sit out here alone, did you?”
Piper is holding a mug of steaming hot tea while Abi clutches a big fuzzy blanket close to her chest.
“Damn, you’re not going to let me freeze to death on the porch?” I ask, as she hands me the cup. “Might be the most humane way to go at this point.”
Abi drapes a blanket over me as she and Piper drag a couple more chairs over, crowding in the final few inches of dry real estate.
“We figured you might need some girl talk.”
“I don’t know what to say that hasn’t already been said,” I mutter. “It feels like he’s probably ready to end things. Maybe he just can’t find the balls to do it.”
Piper’s a little lost for words, but Abi’s not ready to throw in the towel, looking absolutely determined to make a positive impact on my otherwise terrible day.
“You know, before I came to Emerald Bay, I was engaged,” she says softly. “The night of my engagement party, I sent him a picture of the dress I wanted to wear. The text bounced back as undeliverable. I tried again, and the same thing happened. Then, my friend tried…”
“Same thing?” Piper asks.
Abi nods, a scowl taking over her face.
“I had no way of getting a hold of him. I came home to find that he’d packed up his shit. Didn’t even leave a note. He went to his mom’s place a few hours away. She wouldn’t talk to me either.”
When I first told Logan and Abi that it had been a week since I’d heard from Roman, she was more upset than he was; much more than I expected her to be.
Now I think I get it.
“Did you ever find out why he did it?”
She shakes her head, chuckling bitterly to herself.
“As far as I know, I’m still blocked on everything. I’d like to tell you that I was the bigger person and made peace with it, but I’m still hurt and angry after two whole years— hell, it’s gotta be almost three now.”
“I’d burn his fucking house down,” Piper mutters under her breath.
“Abi, I don’t know if that story made me feel any better. I’m still upset, but now I’m mad at Roman and at— what was your ex’s name?”
“Brendan.”
“Ugh, a Brendan?” Piper gags. “God, it just gets worse!”
“I know, I know,” Abi sighs, turning back to me. “The point is, I’ve been where you are, and it breaks my heart to see you going through the same thing.”
I’m almost thankful she’s been through this too. It feels like it’s giving me permission to be angry, but more importantly permission to not only blame myself. Like Logan said, I can understand what Roman’s going through and still want to scream at him for doing it. Yet even now, as much as I’ve been listening to that little voice in the back of my head telling me that this is all over, I still love him.
I need to find out what’s wrong.
And I need to find a way for us to fix it.
“I just wish I knew how to get through to him,” I manage to choke out.
Piper gazes at me, helpless. She’s a problem solver, but even she knows this is a problem we have to solve on our own.
“He’ll come around, Iggy.”
“How do you know?”
“Because depression doesn’t mean that we stop loving people, sometimes it just tells us that we shouldn’t burden people with our shit.” She pulls her chair a little closer, resting a hand on my knee. “I know you’re hurting, but it’s gonna be okay.”
There’s a quick knock on the doorframe, and Logan is leaning out with an envelope clutched in his hand.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but this came for you, Ig.”
“It’s probably papers from EBU,” I mutter.
“No, it’s from the University of Washington.”
His smile is hopeful, but I’m already anticipating the worst.
Tentatively, I get to my feet and take the envelope from him, tearing it open and gingerly pulling out the letter. Silence surrounds me as I slowly unfold it, spotting the big UW logo at the top… and then my name.
I thrust it out to Piper.
“Read it. I can’t.”
“Oh, uh, alright. Dear Miss Flynn… ”
I feel like I’m going to throw up, but Piper puts her hand on my shoulder, the tone of her voice suddenly bright and excited.
“ Congratulations! You’ve been admitted to the following program ?—”
I don’t even hear the rest of it as Logan lets out a big whooping cheer, flinging his arms around me. I should be happy, screaming along with the rest of them, but it’s all I can do to hold back the tears. I was hoping I’d have more time, but my whole life is about to change again, and I’m not ready. Not yet.
I’ve barely thought about school since Roman went no-contact, other than checking my application status a few times here and there. I should be thinking about all the things I have to do now: emailing my new advisor, scheduling my courses, and taking a look at this brand new admissions offer. But all these things that are critical to my future are also leading me to another city, leading me away from a chance at fixing things with him.
A solution, but not to the problem I wanted to fix the most.
It feels like the definition of bittersweet.
As all the cheers and congratulations fade further into the background, I make the decision: I need to get out of town for a few days, check out Seattle and do some apartment hunting. It might help me think a little clearer, to focus on what I can control, and to just worry about me, and not us for once.
After all, if Roman can disappear, then so can I.