8. - – Sienna
CHAPTER EIGHT
-
SIENNA
The door moans as I go to push it open- the sound a reflection of my own exhaustion. I take a heavy step towards the bright hallway but before I can make it far I hear, “I want to give you some homework.”
I visibly snarl at her words because, homework? As if I am not doing enough to just stay alive- now I have homework. Joy. I look back at her over my shoulder - she is making notes in her notepad once more. I don’t speak this time, waiting on her instructions.
“Read the letter. Maybe it will help you find some peace.”
I looked at her shocked as my mouth fell open. She hadn’t spoken a word when I grazed over the topic of it in the session but it seems my therapist was paying closer attention than I realized. I didn't respond.I didn’t know what to say because I had been carrying this wrinkled letter everywhere.
I was terrified. Terrified to know what his last words to me were. What if he was mad at me or worse? I walked in a daze to my assigned room: with every step, the beating of my own heart reminded me that I was alive. They would want me to stay alive- they would want me to fight.
How did I get here? How did I lose myself and fall this far from the girl my brother praised and become a disgrace to the girl who captured Kieran's heart. I couldn’t think straight, the roaring in my ears becoming louder as I reached for my room key to unlock the door before entering my temporary home.
Pacing; that’s all I could do in a poor attempt to keep my anxiety at bay.
Tan walls and a low white panel ceiling felt as if they were closing in.
Suffocating me and for a brief moment I wish they would.
That they would steal the breaths from my lungs until I could reunite with the ones I love.
Until the urges I have, to chase my next high and force my mind to quiet, would vanish.
Until Kieran could just read me the letter his damned self or better yet just hug me until everything felt okay again.
Until my heartbeat was no more and the rush of uncertainty vanished within his embrace….
That wasn’t my reality though and I promised myself when I checked in, that I would live. If I couldn’t live for myself then I would live for them . For the men who deserved to still be standing here - I would keep fighting. I may never be ok but I can survive when they couldn’t.
With that in mind I stride over to the lone dresser in this depressing room and pull out the second to last drawer. Trembling hands reach down and slip under a t-shirt. A crinkled white envelope touches my fingertips as I retrieve what I should have read months ago.
I stumble over my own feet as I make my way to the edge of my bed.
I slump onto the lumpy mattress and think of how many others have also been in my place- how every person who made their way through this program have felt something similar.
How we were all somehow driven to this breaking point- given the choice to let it make or break us.
How many of us decided we were worth fighting for. Relapse, pain, hell, joy, recovery, peace; addiction is a never ending cycle but when I unfolded the letter and saw his calling card for me, I knew. I knew he never really left me- Dear, Ace.
My body started to shake as I continued to read.
As everything became clear and my baby- my Kieran fought for years.
With each line I read, a new sob started to erupt until I could not physically hold myself upright any longer.
I lay on my side as his words become blurred and I feel as if my heart may truly break in two.
His words, “I am no one’s burden or lost cause— I am simply a man who grew tired and made one final choice,” hit hard as I cry out to him- to God- to whoever is listening.
“ I wish you would have taken me with you!” But as the plea leaves my horse throat I know better- I know that isn’t what my future was meant to be.
Instead I whisper out the only thing that now matters. “I love you too, Kieran,” as exhaustion steals my ability to think and sleep steals me away.
His words, his writing, his love, it was all here and all I needed to keep fighting- for now.