Unveiling The Sky Read online

  His face morphed into undisguised sorrow and his next words were clipped. “No, she didn’t. But she had no way of one hundred percent knowing that, and her giving up like that was selfish.”

  “How can you possibly say that when you have no idea what she went through?”

  “I was there. I know what she went through.”

  I shook my head as I stood up. “No, you saw what she went through. But you don’t know. You didn’t feel it. You got to leave the hospital room while she had to sleep there. You got to eat without having to worry about whether or not you were going to throw it up. You could run around doing errands all day without being exhausted after getting halfway through the first one.” I took a few steps forward and paused so he took in the full weight of my next words.

  “You didn’t know. Even though you took care of her, you got breaks from it. You had periods of time where you could go somewhere else and unwind for a while. You had one distinct advantage; you could leave and pretend it didn’t exist anymore, you could have a few hours of peace… she couldn’t. She never got that. It was always there.”

  I could still see the anger radiating off him, but for the first time since our conversation started, he seemed uncertain. But he was stubborn, and as he shook his head I knew he was still trying to deny it. “Alara, I’m sorry, but you have no idea what you’re talking about. She even agreed with me when she eventually came around.”

  The few steps I had taken were quickly erased as I slowly backed away from him. “What do you mean she agreed?” I paused as I replayed all his words. “Did you… did you actually tell her it was selfish?”

  He finally broke our stare, trying to hide his embarrassment. But his non-answer was an answer, and I repeated myself.

  “You did, didn’t you? You actually told her it was selfish.”

  “It was selfish!” he barked out, swinging his gaze back toward me.

  “Yeah, maybe it was,” I yelled back, raising my voice to him for the first time. “But wasn’t asking her to stay alive with all the pain she was in, knowing that it was never going to get any better, that if anything it was going to get worse, just as selfish?” I paused, trying and failing to regain any composure. “You talk about her like she hung the goddamn moon. You tell me stories about how much she gave up just to make you and your sister happy. That she turned her back on her parents, stayed in a loveless marriage, and pretty much gave you all her time and everything you wanted. And the one time she asked you for something, you threw it back in her face. So yeah, maybe it was selfish of her. But I think after giving you everything and leaving nothing for herself, she probably earned that much.”

  Without waiting for his reply, I grabbed my purse and stormed out.

  …

  For the first time in months I began feeling anxious again. As I wore the rug thin by pacing at the foot of my bed, I stared at the full pill bottle in my hand while dozens of questions floated through my mind. Do people really want to die when they palm and down the whole bottle? Or are they just hoping that if they take enough it’ll fix them? Heal them? And are they thinking that those might be the same thing? Do they think they’re going home, to a place where they’re understood and happy and loved?

  Frowning, I carefully put the pill bottle back on my dresser and made my way to the bathroom. I stared at myself in the mirror and wondered when I became the person staring back at me. When did I become the person whose only options seemed to be feeling too much or not enough? I lifted my hand and slowly traced the scar. As tears slipped down my face, I walked back into my bedroom and took out the crumpled piece of paper I hadn’t looked at since Naomi gave it back to me months ago.

  My vision blurred as I stared at the familiar words and the familiar pain, and I began to wonder if I’d ever truly be better. I hadn’t had an episode in over ten months, but I’d always be wondering, wouldn’t I? Would the fear of depression simply take the place of depression? And how could this ever be fair to another person? Gabe and I might not even be fighting right now if it weren’t for this.

  I shook my head and slowed my breathing as I smoothed out the paper and carefully put it away. Eventually the tears dried but I still wondered, could I be in a relationship like this and deal with the fallout if it didn’t end well? I certainly didn’t seem to be handling it well right now.

  But was it because of my depression, or was it just a part of life? Were the two even separate for me anymore? And if they were, how was I ever going to learn the difference?

  I fell asleep to the soundtrack of our words; I repeated them over and over again right until sleep pulled me under. And as much as I wanted to regret them and wish for it to be different, I didn’t see how it could have been. I meant what I said. Even though I knew suicide wasn’t the answer, even though I never had any real intention of acting on it, whenever I was in a low period I always thought the same thing: if it was selfish for me to want to leave, why wasn’t it selfish for people to ask me to stay?

  I woke up shaking. I hadn’t had a nightmare in over six months, but apparently the talk with my dad and my fight with Alara had brought them to the forefront. Her words flashed back at me as I sat up. The one time she asked you for something, you threw it back in her face. So yeah, maybe it was selfish of her. But I think after giving you everything and leaving nothing for herself, she probably earned that much. She was right. Despite the fact that I still believed suicide wasn’t the option, I would always regret calling my mother selfish.

  Head pounding, I looked at the clock and saw it was just after eight in the morning. I didn’t have to be at the bar until noon. I tried to steady my breaths in an effort to get back to sleep, but it was pointless. Just as I swung my legs over the bed, my phone rang. I looked down at my caller ID… Naomi. I considered ignoring it, but I had resigned myself to the fact that if she wanted to talk to you she found a way, even if that meant hunting you down. I took a deep breath and answered.

  “Naomi.”

  “Hey. It’s not too early, is it? You were already up?” It came out fast and tense.

  “Uh, yeah, you’re fine.”

  “Okay, good.” She paused briefly before taking a deep breath and diving in again. “I don’t know what happened last night, and I know Alara would be pissed if she knew I was calling you, but I’m worried. And I know you probably don’t want to talk about it either, but I just need to know that she’s okay because she keeps saying she is but she looked messed up when she got home and—”

  “Messed up?” I interrupted.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Is she… is she okay?”

  “What was the fight about?”

  I hesitated, because even though Naomi might already know some of it and I did trust her, this was incredibly personal. I was still debating when she spoke again. “It’s all right, you don’t have to tell me. It was obviously something intimate. I just… ahh… I don’t even know why I called.”

  “You called because you care about her.”

  She paused for a moment. “You too.”

  “What?”

  “I care about you too, Gabe. I know we haven’t known each other that long but Alara really cares about you, and Derek hasn’t been this happy with a roommate in… forever. You probably don’t even realize how important you are to them because of how emotionally challenged they are, but you are and that makes you important to me.”

  I smiled and nodded my head for a solid five seconds before I remembered I was on the phone. “Thanks, Naomi. That means a lot.”

  “Of course. But if you seriously hurt her, I will not hesitate to cut off your extremities. And I won’t use something sharp either—that’s the mistake people make. They always want something sharp. Thinking it’ll be more painful, ya know? But it’s over too quickly that way. So I’ll use something really, really dull to extend your suffering.” The seriousness of her voice was more than a little unnerving.

  I laughed uncomfortably as she made the second threat to my ma
nhood since joining this group. “I see you and Sherry have no problem with blood and gore.”

  “Eh, I grew up with Derek and Sher wants to go to med school… those two things cause you to get over that shit real quick.”

  This time my laugh was more genuine. “Thank you for caring about her… and me. But don’t worry, I’m going to fix this.”

  After we hung up, I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that I had to fix. I had a sinking feeling that the problem was about more than just removing my foot from my mouth.

  …

  Me: hey. are you free today?

  Alara: I have class till 5.

  Me: and after that?

  Alara: Just working on my never-ending pile of homework.

  Me: could you take some time out of that and come over?

  Alara: Sure.

  Me: 7?

  Alara: 8 would be better.

  Me: that’s fine. did you want me to make dinner?

  Alara: Uhh no, that’s okay. I might not be able to stay long.

  I frowned at my phone before shoving it back in my pocket. The bar was unbearably slow and I spent most of my shift staring at the clock. When Derek came in at shift change, I was practically vibrating with my need to leave.

  “Hey, where’s the fire?” he asked as he started setting up the bar.

  I slung the gym bag on my shoulder before heading toward the door. “I just have a lot of energy, I’m gonna go to the gym for a few hours.”

  He eyed me suspiciously. “Does this energy have anything to do with Alara?” When I stayed silent, he sighed and stepped around the bar until he was standing in front of me. “You’re my friend, Gabe. If you guys are fighting I’m not gonna take a side.”

  “Thanks, man. I just don’t want to talk right now unless it’s to her. But I can’t sit around doing nothing for the next four hours.”

  “I hear ya. Well I’ll stay clear of the apartment tonight, just in case.” Just before I turned around, he winked and had me laughing as I walked out the door. Laughing was not something I thought I’d be doing with him today. I couldn’t help but think about how lucky I was to have Derek and Naomi in my life. I had no intention of losing Alara, but it was nice to know that I didn’t have to worry about losing Derek or Naomi either.

  I looked up from my book to see Naomi standing at the end of my bed. She had been coming in every five minutes for the past half hour, and each time I ignored her. Sighing, I closed my book and motioned for her to sit in front of me.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, you tell me.”

  “It was just a fight.”

  “You don’t fight with people, you barely raise your voice,” she said as a smile slowly spread across her face.

  “Why are you smiling like that’s a good thing? It wasn’t exactly a stupid what-should-we-watch-on-TV type fight, but a really bad fight. The type of fight that makes me wonder if this is a good idea.” Naomi’s smile quickly dropped and a scowl took its place. “Look, I know you’re mad I didn’t tell you and I’m sorry—”

  There was pain in her eyes, but not the kind I was expecting, as she interrupted me. “I’m not mad because you didn’t tell me.”

  “So why are you mad?” I asked, slowly drawing out each word.

  She inhaled a deep breath and placed her palms flat on the bed behind her, leaning back on her arms. “I’m mad because you deserve him and I’m afraid you won’t let yourself have him.”

  “I’m just trying to be realistic.” But a part of me knew it was a cop-out, and Naomi was quick to call me on it.

  “That’s just what pessimists say when they don’t want to admit they’re pessimists.” Naomi leaned forward and let out an exhausted sigh. “Being an optimist doesn’t mean thinking everything is going to be perfect all the time. Being an optimist is merely believing that the good things will outweigh the bad things.”

  “But what if they don’t?” I whispered.

  “You just have to make them. There’s a lot of shit in this world that makes no fucking sense. But the only chance we have of surviving it is by making the good things count, and maybe we’re tipping the scales and lying to ourselves by saying they are worth more but I think it’s a necessary, and beautiful, lie.”

  I stared down at my lap where my hands were nervously twisting and twitching. “We started talking about suicide and I don’t know, it just left me raw and with this horrible, sinking feeling that he’s not going to understand. That he’ll want to call off… whatever it is we’re doing,” I said as I waved a hand in front of me. “And I like him, I mean I really, really like him. It’s scary as shit but I can’t imagine him not in my life, which is crazy because it’s only been like three months.”

  “It’s not crazy, I think it’s wonderful.” I frowned at her tone; she almost sounded wistful.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, putting my own problems on the back burner. My frown deepened as I thought over the last few months. “God, I feel like such a jerk. We haven’t talked about you at all lately, have we?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, you know if I needed to I’d vent.”

  I stared at her for a few minutes. She sounded fine but I also knew she was an expert in being able to cover it up, a handy skill for a lawyer but not so convenient for her friends. “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.” Her voice was bright and cheery for all but a second. And while she left the room with a smile on her face, all I thought about was that second. I knew that second, I lived that second. The second where you let your guard down and show the world everything you’re too afraid to say. Most ignore that second—it’s easier that way, I suppose. But I wouldn’t do that to Naomi; I wouldn’t let her hide behind a fake smile and false words.

  So as much as I wanted to, I knew that I couldn’t hide anymore either. I had to tell Gabe everything, even if it killed me.

  I stayed at the gym for nearly three hours and I was still a nervous wreck when I got home. I quickly showered and changed, leaving just enough time to make a quick dinner. I was staring at the kitchen table and wondered if she’d be mad that I went against her wishes about dinner; I didn’t want her to feel trapped here, but I really didn’t want her to have any excuse to leave early. I was still second-guessing myself when someone knocked on the door. Looking at the clock, I saw there was still fifteen minutes before Alara was supposed to arrive. Hopefully she was just early, because I really couldn’t handle seeing anyone else right now.

  Opening the door, I immediately breathed out a sigh of relief at the sight of her familiar green eyes. I was even more relieved that the anger I saw last night was nowhere in sight. “I need to explain a few things,” I blurted out.

  She took a deep breath and with a scared and unsure gaze, stepped across the threshold. “Yeah, me too.”

  I closed the door and helped her out of her jacket before walking into the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?” When she didn’t answer, I walked back out to find her staring at the set dining table.

  “You made dinner?”

  “Uh, yeah. I know you said not to and you probably already ate, but…” I trailed off before rubbing my hand over my head and squeezing the back of my neck.

  “No, I didn’t. I just… I don’t know.” She laughed uncomfortably and shifted on her feet.

  I swallowed nervously and took a few steps forward. “I’m so sorry, Alara. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that and—”

  “I understand, it was a sensitive subject.”

  “Yeah…” I closed the distance between us, cupping her cheek and slowly brushing my thumb across her face. “I just didn’t realize it was going to be a sensitive subject for you.”

  Her eyes widened and I saw her swallow as her gaze bounced around the apartment behind me. She gave me an unsure smile as she withdrew from my hand. “Maybe… maybe we could talk more about your thing first?”

  It broke my heart to see her so unsure of herself, like
she thought whatever she was going to say would change how I felt about her. “Yeah, of course. Maybe it’d be easier over dinner?”

  After preparing our plates, we sat down at the table and started eating in silence. A few minutes had gone by and Alara hadn’t even looked up. I paused and took a deep breath before speaking. “Calling my mom selfish is something I’m always going to regret. I just… I panicked.” Something in my voice must have resonated with Alara, because she finally looked up and met my eyes.

  “When she first asked me, I couldn’t believe it. I mean my mom loved the shit out of life. She found something to love in every season, something to love in every person and she never complained about anything. And even though what happened to her was so damn unfair, she still stayed strong and positive. She never let it get her down. She never cried or got mad. She still just… loved everything. Or so I thought.” I paused and let out a breath. “But one night I got to the hospital earlier than she was expecting, and I realized all that had been a lie. I stopped at the door when I heard her sniffling. I’d never heard her cry before. Never. And even though the situation clearly warranted it, I couldn’t help but feel let down and even a little...” I trailed off, ashamed at my thoughts.

  “Mad?” she asked softly.

  I gave her a sad smile. “Yeah, her being strong made it easier for me to pretend she was okay. You were right when you said that I got to escape and she never could. I didn’t understand, and honestly I was happy pretending. Her falling apart made it all so real, and I wasn’t ready to live in a world without her. Sometimes I still don’t think I am.”

  We had both stopped pretending to eat, our plates untouched since we started talking. Alara stood up and walked over to me. She slid her hand down my arm until she linked our fingers. I let her pull me up and guide me to the couch were we sat down next to each other. She motioned for me to continue and with a resigned breath, I did.