Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
30
Josie
Thursday, October 20th
My throat burns as I swallow hard around two ibuprofen, and I force a swig of cold water from my glass to usher them down. My whole body hurts and my skin tugs at itself and I curl up on the couch and will the thoughts in my head to stop racing.
I don’t sleep much anymore, and I can’t remember the last time I went an hour or two without crying. Grandma Rose’s house sits frozen in time as I fail to make progress every day in going through it. Empty boxes lean against the wall, just waiting to be assembled and filled, but I can’t bring myself to put away the memories.
The infancy of Clay’s and my marriage is a barrage of emotions I never dreamed of, and, I’m absolutely sure, neither did he.
He’s ready to live together, but he’s also been patient, and I imagine for a man with a personality as large as his, it’s been undeniably hard.
I know I need to pull it together. I know I need to find a place of solace and a way forward, and I know I need to stop putting us to bed by crying every night.
And yet, I can’t stop. I don’t know, at this point, if I’ll ever stop.
The front door closes as Clay comes inside and scooches in to take a seat next to me. Our legs brush and his hand finds mine, but I cannot mine up the compassion or consciousness to give anything more. I’m a shell of myself.
“I know it’s hard, but I can help you go through things if you want, baby.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I can.”
There’s a beat of silence as he formulates a response designed to do anything but set me off, and tears creep into my eyes yet again.
He pulls me into a hug, and I bury my face in his throat as everything overcomes me. The wedding. Not telling Rose where I was going and missing the chance to tell her after. Not being there for the stroke or for all the moments when they brought her to the hospital. Not getting to say goodbye in any way that she’d actually know and not being able to make the new start to my life feel official by sharing it with her.
I know she’d want me to get off my ass and get over it. I just…can’t.
I pull back from Clay and wipe at my inflamed face, and he finishes the job with the pad of his thumb. “Maybe you should go to the doctor, Jose.”
“For what?”
He tilts his head gently. “You’re not sleeping. You cry every day.”
“I’m grieving!” I snap, even though I know he doesn’t deserve it. “For fuck’s sake, Clay, it’s only been three weeks since I had to bury her!”
“I know, baby. I know you are.” His voice is almost infuriatingly calm. “You have every right to grieve. But you’re not sleeping at all. And maybe they can help, you know? Give you something so you can get some rest, at least.”
My pride feels bruised and my heart overrun. I don’t know how to explain to him that I want to be left in my misery, and the stunted nature of my inability to communicate makes everything feel even worse.
“Just let me be!” I lash out, pushing him away and curling up on the couch. “I need the space to feel everything, and I don’t need you hovering over me while I do it!”
“Jose,” he says gently. So much more gently than I deserve. “I just want to help.”
“If you want to help, you’ll drop it!” I yell harshly.
Clay stands to his feet and walks away, and I curl into a ball on the couch. I tuck into myself just as the front door of the house slams, and I close my eyes as tight as I can get them.
Tears pinch through the clenched seams, and I let them come, giving my body over to the emotion until it finally puts me out cold.
…
I sit up with a start, looking around the fading light of my grandma’s living room and wondering if it’s all been a dream.
If she’s still with us, and Clay and I are only visiting to have some cake and gab about how magical it was to elope. I imagine she would be over the moon, despite not being there, and she’d be helping me plan a big wedding celebration to have in the center of town.
She’d help me pick flowers and have me try on my veil, and she’d kiss Clay on the cheek and squeeze him tight just like she always did.
I rub my hands over my face and look around the empty room. The house is silent, and Grandma isn’t washing her hands down the hall to get ready to bake the cake.