39. Chapter 39
Too much. Too much pain. I spent my evening in a haze. I called Summoner’s phone.
“The number you have called does not have a mailbox set up. Goodbye.”
Again and again, I redialed the number as if some divine intervention would supersede and I could get through.
That didn’t happen. He blocked my number.
I looked up Daisy’s social media, and I was blocked there, too.
Suddenly, it was as if that part of my life had ceased to exist. My mind interpreted it as an amputation. A phantom sensation I could reconcile.
I cried. Cried until my eyes hurt and I physically could not any longer. Then I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. The fine cracks and bumps across the painted surface were bits of character to focus on. The negative voice in my head screamed nonstop.
You are worthless.
Everyone is right about you.
You are unlovable.
You were an idiot to think he could really love you.
You are nothing.
My mind was a mess of disorganized chaos that depression ran rampant in.
When I was doing good, eating regular meals, taking my meds, I was able to structure my world, to clean things up.
More often than not, I teetered somewhere in the middle.
Summoner was the circumstance that tipped the scales in one direction.
Now, the mess was too much. Too bleak. My broken brain could not see beyond my sadness.
I sat in the mess of my thoughts, dissecting every memory against what I originally thought to be true. Every interaction. Every movement.
Where had I gone wrong?
What did I do to push him away?
Who was in his ear?
What changed?
Outside our bubble, Summoner and I faced a worldview that didn’t compute with us together. That was my biggest fear, and maybe he realized that, too.
You are nothing.
I barely made it into the bathroom before my vomit splashed against the porcelain. My retching was violently painful, burning during and in the aftermath. Maybe the connection my brain had made was right. Maybe it was wrong. But it was all I had in the depths of my darkness.
I eventually curled up on the coolness of my bathroom tile, surrounded by the foulness of my sorrow. I was falling apart.