The Lowest of Vermin: Me!

I have created, to quote Alice Cooper, "my own private hell." And I have no one but myself to blame now that it's starting to burn.

Kevin came home from work last night and announced that he wanted to sell everything, buy a motorcycle, and take off to nowhere. Sounds a whole lot like my own thoughts. I asked him what was going on, and he proceeded to tell me about the horrible day he'd had at work, then said he needed a hug. I got up and wrapped my arms around him, and he started to cry.

"I can't do anything right," he said. "I fuck up at work, I fuck up at home...I don't want to lose you. I can't."

I swallowed hard, thinking back on that morning, when I had wandered into the kitchen to get breakfast and been inexplicably convinced that the day was going to bring some form of bombshell disaster. I've never been able to decide whether I really appreciate my semi-psychic abilities.

I lay down on the couch and held my arms out, and Kevin lay down next to me and put his head on my shoulder. I'd never seen him cry before, and it was startling. I held him close and tried to think of what to say.

"I love you," he said, looking up so our noses were touching as he looked into my eyes.

"I love you too," I said, which was the truth.

"And I am in love with you," he continued. I didn't say anything. "Are you still in love with me?"

It didn't even occur to me to lie. I took a breath, opened my mouth and closed it again, and looked away. He put his head down and buried his face in my shoulder, shaking slightly. "I don't know," I finally said, and found myself crying as well. "I didn't want to say anything because you're still my best friend and I don't want that to change."

After a few minutes I got up and put my shoes on.

"Where are you going?" Kevin asked.

"My exam," I replied. I hadn't had a chance to finish studying for it and I was already well on the way to being late.

"Oh. Come back afterwards and we'll talk, okay?" I nodded. "Please come back," he begged. I nodded again and stepped outside, shutting the door behind me.

As soon as I was outside, I hauled back and flung my car keys as hard as I could at the driveway. I yelled indistinctly, picked them up, and flung them again. I climbed the hill to where they'd landed, dug them out of the snow, slid back down to the driveway, and heaved them at the car. They bounced off the trunk, over the car, down the hill on the other side and into some trees.

Tearing off my schoolbag, I swung it at the car and it landed with a satisfying thud. I then climbed down the hill, getting caught on some nasty thorny bushes on the way, found my keys, and climbed back up. I got in the car, dumped the snow out of my holey sneakers, and drove off. I put on a Nickelback album and cranked the stereo as loud as it would go.

Driving up the hill in the snow and slush and then down the other side, I could barely see where I was going through my tears.

"Why!" I screamed, barely able to hear myself over the music. "Why did I do this! What the fuck is wrong with me!" I continued to yell all the way to the stop sign, then quieted down as I made the turn by the river.

I realized when I reached campus that I didn't have enough money to park in the garage, and by the time I found a parking space by the gym and then walked back to the correct building, I was several minutes late. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I saw red eyes, a puffy face, and hair that looked like it had had a recent close encounter with a tornado, but I couldn't have cared less.

I failed the exam, I'm sure of that. Wandering out again after I'd handed it back, I stopped in the women's room on the first floor. When I opened the door and took a half a step inside, I stopped in my tracks, feeling suddenly as though I was drowning, even though there was no water to be seen.

The sidetrack becomes necessary here to point out that I'm sensitive to what some people might call ghosts, or spirits; the leftover vibrations, if you will, of past people and very strong events. I'm especially sensitive if I'm already at an emotional low, and stepping into that bathroom was the psychic equivalent of being smacked in the face.

I took a deep breath, having to make a conscious effort to calm myself, used the toilet as fast as I could, and raced out again without washing my hands. By the time I reached the outdoors I was shaking and talking to myself in an effort to keep from running and screaming. I don't want to know what happened in that bathroom, but I can tell you it was one of the most psychically horrifying places I've ever been in.

I took the long way home, still with the stereo at full volume. When I got home, the house was dark and Kevin was lying on the couch with his hands over his face. I took off my boots and lay down with him, putting my head on his chest and my arms around him in a hug. He cried on me for another hour, and then we actually started to talk.

The entire truth didn't come out, but I edged around and around it and got as close as I could. I told him I was restless, I was too settled, I'd never gotten to do the crazy college routine of partying and doing drugs and sleeping around, that I wanted that experience, that I was ashamed of how few people I've slept with in my life.

There are many details and stories I'll leave out for the sake of keeping this post under twenty screens in length, but suffice it to say he's as desperate as I've ever seen anyone. He will do anything to keep me; he offered to get on his knees and beg, and to let me sleep around and do drugs and whatever else I want to do. Don't get me wrong, I'm not about to go out and fuck up my life with all sorts of chemicals. I may be desperate, guilty, and confused, but I'm not that straight-up stupid.

I ended up agreeing to give it a try with him. I'm not sure how it's going to go; I think the real test is the vacation we have coming up next week. We're going to Atlantic City for spring break. We'll see what happens.

Needless to say, I've felt the lowest of human scum since last night. I woke up this morning curled up in Kevin's arms, something that hasn't happened in almost a month, and was surprised to discover that I was enjoying it. I didn't want to get out of bed, wanted to stay there all day. It was a glimpse of how things were back...well, not so long ago, though it's starting to feel like a long time. It makes me wonder what else we'll be able to get back.

I agreed yesterday to let Aiden drive me to school this morning, but I ended up taking the bus because I wasn't sure I wanted to see him. I texted him from my car and then from the bus, giving him a short version of what had happened. He offered to come see me after class and before he went to work, and I agreed, needing a hug if nothing else.

He was both sympathetic and apologetic, though I told him it was my fault and not his, that it was entirely my own choice to fuck up my life like this.

"If you need me to give you some space, I will," he said.

"I don't know," I sighed. "I haven't decided yet."

He nodded. "Whatever you need. Remember, I'm your friend first and foremost." I enjoyed the hug and thanked him.

Tonight is our clubbing night, and Aiden said he's going to go this time. I'm not sure if Kevin and I are going or not...I asked Wren, but she's staying home to study for exams (something I should apparently take a clue about). I'm not sure if it's a good idea to go out and have some fun, or a bad idea to have Kevin and Aiden in the same space right now. I'll let you know what happens.