CHAPTER 13 (NOW)

I looked at the number for the thousandth time. I had finished my first bottle of spirits and held some white cane and chrome in my hand. 

I was seated on the floor, on the carpet, and I switched on the screen. 

I was really drunk, really drunk, but no amount of drinking would change or remove me from this type of pain and place. And I entered into the movies, the little videos which had caused my lack of self-control and my surge of temper. I felt myself lose control, I felt myself vulnerable when I looked at the thumbnails of those videos. The main reason I went there was because I needed to delete them, to really delete them. I looked at them, one by one, the thumbnails only, till I reached the first clip we ever did together.

"Ka...," I sighed, as I drank in the last gulp of spirits in my hand, and I felt it burn my throat all the way through. "You need to move on, Hayzen," I told myself, maybe this being the millionth time I told myself, but every time, every time I thought I had finally made steps, there was always something, always something that happened that would just take me back to square one. 

The last time was her call. 

If not her call, the last time was her text. 

If not that, the last time was someone talking about her. 

But the last time, the last time was the clip on her TikTok… with her damn messed-up loser of a man... that man. I wonder if she really knows I still yearn for her…, sometimes.., fuck.

"You need to move, Hayzen," I told myself again, as I felt a little wetness fill my eyes, and everything came rushing back to me. 

'What did I do to really deserve that?' A question I always asked God. 

And then I switched off the screen, as I inhaled the almost choking air. It was irritating already. I just felt unneeded in this room, I felt intoxicated and I needed to release myself a little. But I had taken a break from all that, all those meetups with women in random bars. So instead, I sat there and put on some music on my speaker. Only music would aid.

And there was Aaliyah...

'Aaliyah'

She had cute eyes, I would give, 

a sense of humor, 

a beautiful smile, 

and a radiant energy. 

The last thing I needed was to break that or rather take that away from her. So I looked at my phone again, all along I looked at it, rethinking if I should call her or not. Was she worth it? What was I to tell her when she picks up? What am I to offer her anyway? A broken soul, one that sees the world through the darkest lens, a soul that just does not remember the feeling of real fresh love and being bubbly over a text, a heart that forgot how blood rushes.., out of hearing someone's voice? But rather that, every blood rush means an ache, a pain, and when it finally feels the ache of love, it chooses to take its step back…? I really thought everything through, as if scheming ahead. I knew I had done her wrong. The last thing she needed was a raise in voice, the last thing she needed was me telling her to switch the goddamn screen, and the best thing she needed was an explanation. But how do we give these kinds of explanations?

Maybe someone thinks giving the explanation is easy. But truth is, every time I open my mouth to tell someone what my past did to me, the moment I start, I just lack words. It just feels like everything that happened was a dream, it just leaves me with no bad label to give my past except the fact that she left this feeling inside of me. I just... I just never knew how to really describe everything, even when Luke asked me why I never moved on, I always lacked words. Because honestly, truth is, the word moving on was always something in my brain, my brain had already erased her and she meant little to nothing to me, she would not even occur as an ad in my mind at any moment, and then one random Sunday, she would just cloud me, in all possible ways, in ways that I myself would never remove myself from. 

Like when I would see couples walking together taking ice cream, 

or better off, when watching a thriller movie that has a lot of secret identities, 

or greater, when Luke would be busy speaking on the phone with his girlfriend. 

It left this feeling, the feeling of ifs and whats, the questions of what if it would never happen, what if she were here, what if she... what if I would just look over that and focus on the matter at hand, what if…, it was all that...

I was currently thinking..., thinking too much, I even forgot I was drinking. And I looked at my phone again; it was already kissing two AM, almost morning. My shift was later on the day, it was from six PM, one thing before drinking.., I always made sure I knew when my shift would be,.. That's how much I protected my work, it was my life.

"Aaliyah am sorr..," I started messaging, but just deleted it. Did not want to spark feelings that I was not sure I would stand accountable for, I did not want... and if I did, I knew my heart carried more fear than my solely mentality. I would die if it happens again,.., the specs of heartbreaking,.. I would die... that I knew, one last chance, and the next would just kill the being in me. I knew how vulnerable I was, how much this wall I built meant, it meant that the thing inside it would break especially now that it had tasted the pains, it had tasted the bitterness of the feeling... 

but I needed to call, I really should have called her and maybe said I'm sorry... but I guess I should... anyway, I just... I just inhaled sharply and dragged myself to sleep…, I was in no mood to care for anyone... I hated my life and this, this thing I did not know what to explain it was… 

The sleep was beautiful, haaa... 

I woke up from the fights by my neighbors... they always fought, the two married couples.

Anyway, I looked at the phone... 'Already one' God... I stated, and there was a text from Elvis 

 'Pick me up..., Marine things' it stated, 

oh yes I needed to pick him. He needed to do... and my shift at six... So I knew I needed to shower as fast so that we can do everything before the shift. I barely had a hangover, sometimes... on the first days I did, afterwards all I had was just a feeling of lightheadedness and then done... that would be the hangover. Anyway, I still drank my little medication. 

I then chose the clothing to wear, first for my journey with Elvis, he needed shopping for his marine leave, they were heading to Iraq, so you know, he needed some quite good clothes. In addition, it was not an easy place, it was heading for work, I hear there was war, I hope he manages, he was to buy some T-shirts and show me some of his properties to take care of before heading away. I wondered why he never trusted friends of his age, but anyway, not that I was that old by looking. I chose some grey shorts and some T-shirt with sneakers and carried a bag packed with my clothes for work, a white cardigan shirt, black well-ironed trousers, shiny shoes together with my lab coat and stethoscope in addition to a hood, in case it rains. It was best carrying two pairs of clothing, as it would be unhealthy to deal with patients with sticky clothes, and sweaty clothes in addition to dirty ones... that's why most times I preferred just staying at home when my shift was in the evening or at night because if I were to head out, I would have to dirtify many clothes.

Anyway, after the shower, I took my bag with all the packed clothes, as I knew, from six I would finish my shift in the morning at five am... so this meant that I would have a hell long working hours... days in the office were hard, surgeries were everywhere. Despite being a cardiologist, I still would deal with kidney issues... and trust me, these patients were numerous, they really were, you know. Anyway, professional matters always remained confidential and professional between a doctor and a patient; it was not something that was supposed to be hung around or exposed to people.

So, on reaching my car, I started it and left for Elvis' place. I thought of nothing else. 

It was not that far... anyway... so,

"Hey, my shift is at six," I told him, as he walked inside the passenger seat... he seemed stressed out, of course he would be, he was leaving his damn family for a fight. During these wars, you never knew if you were to come back or not. He was barely married and had no family, I knew what sort of stress he was in... I really knew... anyway... I wished him all the best.

As I wanted to start the engine, "wait, my sister is coming," he stated, 

and I heard the sound of my backdoor, and she pushed my bag a little bit... 

and hell she was beautiful,.. right on entrance,.. she was... 

for the first time, I stared at her in the real sense and it seemed I forgot everything and just looked at her through the front car mirror. I hope Elvis did not notice, but she noticed.., Aaliyah noticed. She looked back at me and I nodded to her, as she made a little look, not sure if it was a smile or not. She had tied her hair beautifully at the center of her head, leaving a pony tail, and wonderfully laid her edges, in addition to putting on some light shade of makeup.

 She was cute... 

I would say again... 

she was cute... and everything I had done the previous day seemed to disappear at the moment. But I ignored the feeling once I realized what my mind was stating... 

I started ignoring it and focused on the road as I started the engine... "don't fall for looks, Hayzen"..., 

"don't fall for looks."