17. Chapter 17
You left me.
I needed you and you left.
I’m not important.
I’m not important to anyone.
My psychiatrist, Dr. Charlie Davidson, was a short, stocky man with a head of curly, brown hair that rivaled my afro.
At 7:11, he dragged himself into the office.
Charlie usually listened intently and was open to trying different approaches to my treatment.
I say usually because he was more open-minded on midweek afternoons, not very early Monday mornings.
Charlie wiped sleep out of his eyes while trying to suppress a yawn.
Clearly, neither one of us wanted to be here.
“…So, how have things been, Poppy? I see here you called into crisis this weekend?”
“Uh, yeah. I was feeling really down this weekend.” I ran my hands down the length of my thighs.
The whole point of this appointment was to talk about how I was feeling, but expressing my emotions into actual words was like pulling teeth. We had been doing this song and dance for three years now. I was sure Charlie could hazard a guess at how I was doing.
“How down?” Charlie finally looked from his computer to me.
My eyes drifted down to the floor as the heat of embarrassment crept up my back.
“…Really down…Bad thoughts. Not safe down,” I mumbled.
“Ah,” he noted before turning back to his computer and typing.
30 minutes later, I was back on the sidewalk headed toward work. Charlie upped my prescription and the whole appointment took less time than my wait at the pharmacy. Sighing, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and noticed a waiting text.
Shay: Have you made it to work yet?
Brows furrowed; I quickly typed a reply.
Poppy: Not yet
Shay: Can you go by and check on Jordan? Im worried about him
Poppy: Is something wrong?
The three typing dots appeared and disappeared several times before vanishing altogether. I grumbled at the half a mile added onto my commute.
Using my spare key, I let myself into their apartment.
I stopped cold in the doorway. The hipster casual, blasé atmosphere my friends were going for was demolished.
I treaded carefully into the mess left behind.
A few books and a random shirt lay scattered on the floor.
The couch was gone, and the lumpy bean bag sat awkwardly in the middle of the now-empty space.
Even the canvas wall art Shay had painted was gone.
Bewildered and utterly confused, I knocked lightly on the closed bedroom door.
When there was no answer, I knocked again.
Bracing myself for what I might find, I slowly crept the door open.
The curtains were closed tight, making the bedroom dark and silent except for the hiss of the radiator.
Squinting into the darkness, I noticed the mound of blankets on the bed twitch.
“Jordan?”
The blankets moved again.
“I know you’re in here.”
When the blankets froze as if my vision was based on movement, I stormed into the room, flicked on the bedside lamp, and flopped down onto the bed. The lump of blankets groaned as I settled in next to it.
“Are you going to talk to me like a reasonable human being, or am I gonna have to turn off the heat and pull off your blankets?”
“Hfumf,” the blankets replied.
Legs crossed, I pulled out my phone and settled in for a wait. Thankfully, Jordan didn’t keep me waiting long. After five minutes, he peeked out from under the blankets.
“…So, are you going to tell me what’s going on? I’m missing work because of you.”
“You didn’t want to be there anyway.” He glared.
Red puffiness circled his eyes.
My nose twitched. “No, but my love of a paycheck demands my occasional presence. But my attendance isn’t the topic at hand, you are. So, spill.”
Jordan sat up and slumped against the headboard. He was shirtless and I couldn’t help noticing the oddly-placed little tuft of hair in the middle of his chest.
“… S-She said she didn’t want to do this anymore. For real this time. She lined up a place to stay and everything.” He stared off into the distance as he spoke.
I didn’t know the pair was on the rocks. The two of them often got restless in their relationship. An itchy boredom at their routine. But somehow, they always found their way back to each other. They loved each other too much. Shit was annoying.
“Jordan.” I leaned in and rested my head on his shoulder.
“She said we could be friends down the road because she still saw value and light in my spirit.”
“That’s good.”
He didn’t say anything else. I didn’t say anything because I honestly didn’t know what to say.
We were The Three Musketeers and now all of that was gone.
Their relationship was over, and my heart was broken, too.
Friendship breakups were this strange thing no one really talked about.
Once the third wheel, now I had no place at all.
Jordan wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down to the mattress.
My cheek pressed against his chest. His skin was smooth on mine.
I swallowed harshly as the thumping of his heart filled my ear.
We spent the rest of the morning cuddled together.
A mess of limbs, body heat, sleep, and groggy emotions.
I eventually managed to drag his ass out of bed. While he cleaned himself up, I went about ordering food and attempting to clean. Shay had taken everything not nailed down. She was within her right, but it still sucked for me being the one to pick up the pieces.
I did my best to stuff the chaos of the kitchen back into cabinets. Glass of water held aimlessly in my hand, I slumped against the kitchen doorway and tried to make heads or tails of my friend’s life.
Jordan dragged himself into the living room in his boxers with a towel on his head.
I sighed at my sad and broken friend. If the tables were turned, I didn’t think I could count on him like this.
My sadness was more often and much more chaotic.
My sadness was a totally upending darkness.
My teeth dug into my bottom lip as I recalled trying to tell him I was feeling depressed.
Even now, my gut churned as I remembered him scoffing, “You take meds Poppy. What do you have to be sad about?”
As if totally oblivious to the disarray surrounding him, Jordan flopped onto the beanbag. I let a huff out my nose and resigned my hurt to the past. Stuffed that shit into a nice, neat box to open later when I wanted to feel something.
“I think we should watch your favorite movie. Nothing helps sadness like a bit of comfort,” I noted.
Jordan nodded and pulled out his phone. From there, he turned on the overhead projector and started Star Wars Empire Strikes Back.
In relative silence, we ate, and my eyes glazed over as Luke fought to save the empire from his dad.
During the ultimate battle, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
My eyes widened as I saw 7 unread texts and 1 missed call from Summoner.
Summoner OMG: How was your appointment?
Summoner OMG: Did you go to work today?
Summoner OMG: Tea?
Summoner OMG: Coffee?
Summoner OMG: Juice?
Summoner OMG: Honestly worried now Poppy.
Summoner OMG: Moore went by your apartment. Just let me know you’re doing okay.
“Everything alright?” Jordan asked.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” I pushed my phone back into my pocket.
Leaving Summoner’s texts on read was childish.
I felt abandoned. Alone like always. Now, I was lashing out when there was no need.
He had things to do. He couldn’t stay glued to my hip.
My phone stayed quiet the rest of the evening.
Jordan and I fused into a lump on the beanbag, cuddling and working our way through the Star Wars movies.
I was mindlessly bored, but I was being a good friend.
By the time we finished Attack of the Clones, I wanted to claw my eyes out and it was after 11.
As the end credits rolled, I unfurled my body from the beanbag and stretched.
“I should probably get going,” I groaned in time with my creaking muscles.
“Yeah.” Jordan pouted.
I kissed his forehead. “Love ya.”
“Obviously you do. Love you too.”
He would get through this. It would take time of course, but at least we had each other.