Chasing William (20 page)

I could go to school up here, and that could
help keep everything feeling different. I’d be able to hold onto
this feeling a little longer, stay closer to William a little
longer. Just getting away from home helps. It might be running
away, but after I graduate most of the problems worth running away
from won’t be problems anymore. It’s about not wanting to be around
all those triggers. Seeing all the places William and I used to
share and the places where we talked about our future is just too
much right now. Being away from it all in a place that still feels
like home might actually be the best solution.

There’s a school of thought that says a
recovered addict is better off away from home. Now, this doesn’t
mean they’re better off never talking to their family again or
anything like that, but it means getting away from the triggers
that cause an addict to be an addict in the first place. Like with
William, there were people at home who he’d drink with and do other
things with, and no matter how long he was clean they’d still be
here. The chances of him staying clean with all those people around
him who didn’t think they needed to get clean aren’t that great. If
he moved away, those people would be gone. He wouldn’t run the risk
of seeing them or going to the wrong people to work out a problem.
This would make it easier to stay clean. I think that’s what he
went so far away to “That Place”. Part of him knew it would help
just getting away.

I know this is a strange thing to compare to
drugs, but I think grief has started to become my addiction. It
doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, at least not until you start to
think about it. The kind of grief I’ve been feeling for the past
few months has not been healthy. It’s started to affect my everyday
life, I haven’t been sleeping well; I’ve been hovering on the verge
of depression; I’ve lost all my old friends; I’m lashing out at my
parents and people I don’t even know. Nothing about it is healthy,
and yet I can’t seem to let it go when I’m at home. There are too
many things that remind me of him. Too many triggers from all those
old memories. I just keep telling myself there’s nothing I can do
about it, that grief has to run its course, and in a sense that’s
true. But not this kind of grief. This kind of self-serving grief,
the kind that makes it impossible to want to move on with my life.
It has to go. This kind of grief is not doing me any favors, and
it’s not the right way to remember William. If I want to really
start to move on, I think I’m going to have to start over in a
totally new place. Sure, it might not be necessary, but I need a
symbol of “moving on” before I can actually start to do it.

At least I know what I have to work on now.
I’m starting to feel like things will be okay.

After those thoughts the drive home is
pretty uneventful. It’s amazing how much better time I make without
stopping for food every hour. My mind still wanders and I still get
emotional. I’m happy, sad, depressed, hopeful, everything all at
once. But I’m not forcing any of it to happen. That’s just how it
works. Something reminds me of a memory or triggers something that
triggers an emotion. There’s no order to anything. It’s nice for my
emotions to be unpredictable again. I’m getting used to it. It’s
actually comforting in this strange way, something I can count on I
guess. Actually, it’s more like something that’s normal. Normal is
good for right now. I can learn to live with it.

“So, how was your trip?”

Today is one of the rare occasions when Mel
is actually with me up front the whole time. We have boxes of books
from buyback day to sort through, price, and stock. Judging by the
number of boxes, that’s probably all I’ll be doing for the next
week. Mel looks a little preoccupied, but not nearly as bad as the
last time I saw her.

“It was good. I think I managed to sort
through a lot of emotions. I feel like I’m more prepared to move
on. Just in time for the new year.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Mel looks up from her
stack of books and looks at me. “You know you could have had all
the time off you needed. If I’d known, I probably would have forced
you to take a day or two off. You could have told me, you
know.”

“I know. It’s just…” I look up from my books
and try to think of the right words. “I wasn’t sure how you’d
react. I wasn’t even sure how to bring it up in conversation. I
hate the idea of people feeling sorry for me or thinking I’m just
saying it to get attention. It just seemed easier to deal with it
on my own.”

Mel nods. “Next time you have something like
that happen to you, you can tell me. I’m not going to judge.”

“Well…” I look down at my pile of books
nervously. I’d done a lot of thinking on the ride down but I
haven’t actually talked to anyone else about it. Decision time is
coming up quickly though. It’s about time I make things official
with someone. “Actually, there is something I wanted to talk to you
about. I know I’ve been planning on going to college close by and
working here during the year, but I’ve started to change my mind. I
think I’m going to go to school further away. So I’m going to have
to quit after this summer. I’m sorry. I just need to get away.” I
feel terrible as I’m saying it. Mel gave me my first job. She’s
been so nice to me. She understood my problems and she hasn’t
judged me for how I’ve handled them (or not handled them). I don’t
want to just quit on her. It doesn’t seem right somehow. I do want
to get away. I think I’ve convinced myself I need to. Mel will
understand. She has to. I hope.

Mel just laughs.

“Of course that’s alright! I never expected
you to stay here forever. You’d have to leave eventually. And I
promise to give you an excellent recommendation whenever you need
one.”

I let out a deep breath.

“Thanks, Mel. You’re the best first boss I
could have asked for.”

“Aw, thanks, girlie.” She winks and then
goes back to sorting out the books.

I’m going to miss this a lot. Working
somewhere else won’t be the same. But it is time to move on. I
think that’s the biggest life lesson I learned on my trip: we have
to move on.

I get ready to leave for the day and turn
around to look at the place that’s been my second home for the past
four years. I can’t imagine not coming to work here every weekend.
I can’t imagine being away from so many books, or from Mel. It
seems so weird to know I’ll eventually be leaving for good. I think
I’ll even miss the terrible customers. Sure, they drive me crazy,
but they always make for good stories when I get back home. If you
think about it, though, four years isn’t really that long. It seems
like forever, especially those four years of high school, and a lot
has happened, but four years from now I’ll be graduating from
college (hopefully), and then these four years won’t seem like such
a long time after all. It’s a little scary to think about growing
up like that. I mean, it just seems so final. There’s nothing I can
do to change it. No matter how long those four years felt, they’re
almost over now. I’m not sure I want to leave, but I know I can’t
stay. It’s all kind of scary. But to tell the truth, I’m finally
starting to get a little excited.

“
The road does not get
easier, but it does go on.”

I’m not going to lie. Going back to school
after break is hard, almost harder than walking into “That Place”.
The only thing that makes it possible is knowing that in a few
short months I’ll never have to go back. I’ve even started to come
to terms with what’s really going on with my group of misfit
friends. We’d all come together because we didn’t know where else
to go. We were there for each other, kind of, as support. Now
though, the future is coming at us full speed. We can’t rely on our
little group to keep us safe and get us through anymore. We are all
going to be on our own soon enough. We are all just trying to find
a place we could belong a little more permanently. I really am
going to miss a few of my friends, but I think I want to move on
even more than I want to go back.

“Hey, Crissy, did you get my message?”
Amanda runs over to me, all smiles and excitement like nothing ever
happened.

“I was out of town.” I play with my locket.
“Why? What’s up?” Might as well be nice. I’ll probably never see
her again anyway.

“You never go out of town.” She says it like
she knows me better than I do. Not that she really bothered to get
to know me.

“Think of it as a new leaf.” She’s not the
only one who can sound condescending.

“Whatever. I wanted to get your info and
stuff, for housing next year. You know, roommates.” She puts her
arm around me and actually seems excited. We really click at times
like this, when things are great and there’s nothing to take
seriously. We’d kill each other if we tried to live together. The
only behavior you can control is your own, you know.

“About that…” I put my arm around Amanda. It
feels like we’re friends, and I actually would like to try and keep
it that way. Besides, maybe if we get over this weird fight thing
and actually start to grow up, we might grow into friends and I’d
like that. “I’m actually going to a different school now. I know
it’s last-minute but I just wanted a change. Thought I’d go north
instead of south.” People change.

“Oh please. Is this about you being a bitch,
because I was ready to forgive you. Get the fuck over
yourself.”

At least, they can if they want to.

“Think of it this way: we can keep in touch
and talk about our crappy roommates instead of not talking
because
we’re each other’s crappy roommates.” I decided to
change. I can now open my mouth without rising to an occasion. I
have William to thank for that. I look down at my locket. Every
time I have the courage to do something I normally wouldn’t, I know
it’s him, sending me just a little more bravery because he can’t be
here to hold my hand. I remember when Amanda and I first met, on
our first day of high school. We were both too cool to be nervous,
but we were. We didn’t have anyone else to hang out with, talk to,
or sit with at lunch. Somehow we found each other and after one
hour it felt like we’d been best friends forever. We laughed at the
same jokes, liked the same things, thought the same guys were cute.
It seemed like the perfect fit. I’d wanted to have a best friend
like that for so long. Every semester we’d try to match up our
schedules, complain if we couldn’t take the same classes or even
have the same lunch. We could talk about everything. When I first
met William and she’d first met Jake, we talked a lot about them
too. We talked about what would happen if we got married, where
we’d live, what our lives would be like. We talked about being each
other’s maid-of-honor. We talked about what kind of friends we’d be
when we were old. We talked about how we wanted our lives to turn
out. She’d talk about how she was scared of turning into her mom
and I’d tell her how I was scared I’d never find a purpose in my
life.

We really had been best friends. Just
because we weren’t anymore didn’t mean I had to erase all that
history. For three years we’d been the absolute best of friends.
I’m not sure what happened, but I think it happens to everyone. All
I know for sure is that I’m tired of fighting. I don’t want to hate
Amanda anymore.

“Um, yeah, okay…” Amanda seems a little
shocked. It feels good to speak my mind without acting like a
lunatic.

The bell rings and I head to the first class
of my last semester.

“You’re still a fucking bitch!” Amanda
calls, but she’s smiling this time.

I roll my eyes and keep walking to class. It
feels like old times. I’ll probably never see her again after
graduation.

But that’s okay.

“
You can alter what you can’t
change.”

I never thought of emailing William as
another habit I’ll eventually have to break. Obviously I can’t call
someone who’s dead, so my ritual of calling William every night had
to end. I can send him messages indefinitely though, or at least
that’s what I told myself in the beginning. I wouldn’t have to
stop.

But it isn’t healthy. Maybe healthy isn’t
the right word, but it all amounts to the same thing. It was
necessary at the beginning to get me through, but now I have to
start letting go. It started in Minnesota when I didn’t realize it.
I just didn’t talk to him as much as I had been. Even though I
could manage it unconsciously, actually telling myself to stop is a
different story. It makes me sick. I can’t do it.

It’s just one more ritual I’m not ready to
give up yet. I guess I can always try to compromise.

To:
Laura Micheals

Message:
Hey, I’m betting you
probably don’t remember me, but I’m the girl you met at a gas
station. You know, the one who was kind of a bitch. You gave me
your card and told me to get in touch if I needed to. I think I’m
finally ready to talk to you. It’s hard to start the conversation
about William, especially with people who have no idea what it’s
like. But I really would like to talk to someone if the offer still
stands. I’m not sure how to start moving on. I could use some
help.

The past few months have been really hard,
and I thought being alone to work through my issues was the best
way to solve the problem. Maybe it was, at least at the time, but
it’s also really lonely. I think it might help to have someone to
talk to who knows what it’s like. What we went through wasn’t the
exact same thing, and I realize that, but it’s about as close to
the same as anyone can get. I just want to know how you managed to
keep living your life without going crazy. Make sure I’m headed in
the right direction. I’d appreciate it more than you know.