I know he wants me to live a life full of everything we should’ve had together, but without him I don’t see that happening. I don’t want to fall in love with anyone else, ever. He was my soulmate; he owned my heart completely and when he died my heart died with him.
Standing, I head into my bathroom where I have the sleeping pills my doctor prescribed to try and help me sleep right after Cane passed away. The only problem is they’re not working. Nothing helps; I fall asleep momentarily just to awake an hour or two later and spend the rest of the night tossing and turning as images of Cane flash in my mind. They play like a movie, making the pain of losing him intensify throughout the night.
Opening the bottle, I go to pour one pill out then a voice in my head begins to tell me to take more. If one doesn’t work, then maybe a few more will do the trick. Perhaps I can sleep longer and dream of Cane. If I get lucky, it’ll be a good dream…even if it’s not reality. It feels real enough that I’ll take any false reality, even if it’s only for a few hours instead of the devastating reality that is my life.
I dump six pills into my hand and turn the sink on to fill up a cup of water. As my eyes focus on the mirror in front of me, a scream erupts from deep within my throat. I drop the glass, and it shatters at my feet while the pills fall and mix with the broken glass now scattered across my bathroom floor.
Blinking a few times I rub my eyes and spin around, but there’s no one behind me.
I swear to God; Cane was just standing behind me!
Oh, my God. I am losing it!
I run to the kitchen to retrieve my broom and dustpan to clean up the mess that is now covering my bathroom.
Squatting down I begin sweeping up the pills and glass as my hands shake from the scare that just rocked me to my core, making sweeping a difficult task.
After cleaning up the mess, I sit down on my bed with my head in my hands. “I take it you are really taking the haunting my ass thing seriously.” I mumble under my breath.
All I want to do is sleep and see Cane again. I just want to hear his voice and feel his touch, even if it’s only for a few short hours.
“I admit taking a handful of pills isn’t the answer, Cane! We’ve always been honest with each other and never sugar coated shit! The truth is, if I overdosed and died tonight, I wouldn’t care…” My shoulders shake vigorously as another sob rips through my chest. My body is consumed with anger and misery because there’s no room for anything else. “Don’t you see, Cane? My life isn’t worth living without you in it!”
Now, I’ve truly lost it.
I’m sitting here crying my eyes out for the zillionth time and shouting at my dead fiancé who isn’t even here. I’ve officially lost my fucking mind.
Falling back onto the bed, I yell out, “Where do I go from here? I don’t want a life if you’re not in it...” I choke on my last words, as the hopelessness becomes too much to bare.
I didn’t realize I had cried myself to sleep, curled up in a ball on top of my comforter. When I wake up shortly after, my body aches and my muscles feel stiff. I stretch and climb off of my bed; I look at the clock on my cell and realize it’s after eleven at night. I’ve been asleep for over two hours. I don’t remember what I was dreaming about. I think for the first time in over two weeks I had a dreamless sleep.
I can’t help but feel a pang of sadness hit me as I realize that I’d rather have nightmares or sweet dreams over not dreaming of Cane at all.
Thinking about his letter, I jump in the shower and let the hot water sooth my aching body. I only get out after the water turns cold. I did a lot of thinking while in there, and I know that I can agree to one thing Cane asked of me.
Grabbing my cell, I quickly type out a bulk text to Roxie, Dalton, Matt, and all the guys from Beyond Redemption asking them to meet me in thirty minutes at Ocean Side Dive. I know since it’s a Sunday the bar is open until three am, and the guys have no gigs tonight.
What I need to say should be told to everyone all at once. It’s going to be hard, but it’s what I have to do to try and cope with losing Cane and doing as he wishes in his letter.
I order a pitcher of beer and gather everyone around our favorite booth in the back corner of the bar. There are more of us than usual, so Nash and Casper are sitting at the end of our booth, backwards in chairs they stole from one of the tables.
I play with a napkin, twisting it around my fingers in an attempt to keep myself focused. Clearing my throat, I begin to speak. “Thank you for coming.” I flash everyone a weak smile, “Y’all are probably wondering why I asked everyone to come here tonight. I found a letter from Cane this evening while going through his things, and in that letter he made it clear the things he wanted me to do if he was to never return home from Iraq.”