Wiping the Slate

It was strangely easy to tell him no. I knew it was the right choice without thinking about it. My friends all said they were proud of me, but that "no" was the easy part. It really didn't take any strength at all.

Which was fortunate, because I didn't have much left. I couldn't eat and I couldn't sleep. I lay awake most nights until dawn, sick to my stomach and shaking, then forced myself through the days on coffee and spite. I bought a new motorcycle. I ran up thousands of dollars in credit card debt. I traveled around the country on the bike. I drank. I stole things. I planned vindictive sprees of vandalism. I fucked off at work until I thought they'd have to fire me, but they never did.

One of Aiden's friends messaged me one day to say that they were worried about him, that he was taking our breakup very badly, that he wasn't eating or sleeping and looked like a zombie.

The fuck do I care? He chose this path. If he doesn't like it, he can go cry on the girlfriend he still has.

I thanked the friend for telling me; it wasn't a discussion worth having.

I decided that dating was only good for making broken hearts, and that it would be best if I just accepted my life as a single, lonely badass. Harley was stronger and scarier after the Joker attempted to kill her.

All the fucks I gave about pretty much anything disappeared down the drain. I told a friend he was gullible, and when he got offended, I laughed. He never spoke to me again.

Before we split, Aiden asked what I would do if he stayed with Shelby. I told him I'd leave my team and quite possibly move out of town, because I wouldn't be able to be around him. I think he doubted me; my bonds to my team were very strong.

In September, I wrote in my journal:

I'm coming unglued, piece by piece, in a slowly marching progression of crazy. I feel like my head is under pressure, and cracks are starting to appear in the corners and work their way up the walls. My anthem is Habits by Tove Lo. I skipped practice on Tuesday to stay home and drink. This is the shape of my life now. If this summer could be summed up in a hashtag, it would be #zerofucks.

I've been a ridiculous ball of rage lately, angry with everything from pedestrians to poorly functioning technology to, well, almost anything. Aiden asked me yesterday why I thought I was so angry. I responded with, "What are you, my therapist?" And he said, "No, but I am your friend." That put me off, and I realized later it's because he's great at talking about being supportive, but when it's come down to the wire and I've really needed help, he's let me down as much as he hasn't. He chose someone else over me, repeatedly and hurtfully, and then just wanted me to act like it didn't happen. That is not how a friend acts. My true friends have been there for me through everything.

I told Ninja I was leaving, and she said she was coming with me. In October, I had a falling-out with Zoe about the apartment and moved unexpectedly into Ninja's living room. Through November and December I worked 70 hours a week at two different jobs, saving money for the trip. I had to pick up a few things from Aiden and Shelby's house one evening, and he told me they were leaving for Hawaii in the morning. I didn't take the bait, just grabbed my bag of things and got back in the car, trying to avoid his awkward hug. As I drove away I started screaming.

"Hawaii!" I said to Ninja, and she understood every ounce of my boiling rage. It was lucky for everyone that I could barely keep up with work and sleep and had no time to activate any of those vindictive vandalistic plans.

I listened to Halestorm non-stop, worked 12-hour nights, rarely slept, rarely ate, and over and over again I talked myself into speeches I never gave [to Steve]. I let myself get so strung out I lost a pants size, dropping to less than 140 lbs, and became amenorrhic. I got into my car after shifts and just screamed. I fell asleep on the floor at both my jobs, once while sitting up. I stayed awake for 35 hours at one stretch and consumed obscene amounts of coffee.

And then one day both jobs were over. I slept for 13 hours, and then started my new life, unscheduled and directionless, headed for fresh new stretches of hell.