I Love You to Death

by Natalie Ward

  I want to have friends again. I really want my family back. I long to be in love and have someone love me back. I want Sam here; I want to have Sam love me again.

  But none of that can happen now. And I know it’s part of why I was so angry yesterday. It’s the reason for who I am, the way I act and for so many of the things that I’m forced to do now.

  It’s funny the things you wish for.

  When you get them, you never want them anymore. And you’d do anything to take them back.

  ∞

  I haven’t looked at my emails since I sent that message to Luke last night. There are six more sitting unopened in reply from him now. I don’t want to know, don’t want to see what he might have sent back to me. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking, what he thinks about me or any of the things Liam said. What he thinks about any of the things I said in the stupid drunken email I sent him last night.

  I’m so pathetic.

  I call in sick to work today. I don’t want to be around anyone, I want to wallow alone in my own self-pity, but most of all I don’t want anyone to see me like this.

  Because today is my birthday. Today I’m twenty-six years old and I’m all alone. It’s now six months since Sam died and it’s the most alone I’ve ever been in my life, because now, I have absolutely no one. I’m so completely alone and I feel so incredibly lonely, all the time. I wish I had the courage to end it, to give up and find a way out of all this shit. I really wish I could just make this all stop.

  I’m so tired of being angry all the time, so tired of pushing everyone away and I’m so tired of being alone. So very tired of everything, but especially being me.

  Last night when I finally got home after the day from hell, I drank myself into oblivion, eventually passing out fully clothed on top of my bed. I obviously didn’t shut the blinds because it’s the early morning sun that somehow finds its way into my room and wakes me up today, wakes me before the nightmare even has a chance to. A pounding head ache and a mouth that feels like the bottom of a bird cage are what greet me. Happy birthday Ash I think to myself, one of your best.

  I spend the morning in bed reading Sam’s letter and sleeping. I don’t cry anymore because I know it won’t change anything, won’t bring him back. Besides, I don’t think I have any more tears left inside me now. Instead I re-read the words he left and wonder if they will ever change how I’m feeling, whether they will ever change anything at all. The paper is so worn, the creases blurring some of the words he wrote, a small hole in the centre from folding and unfolding it over and over again. One day it will completely fall apart and then I will have nothing of his to read anymore.

  Around lunch time I finally drag myself up and into the shower. I know I need to go out and get food before the stores close. I don’t want to go anywhere, but it’ll be easier if I just go now, before it gets too busy. In any case, I really need to get more alcohol after last night’s effort, because I know I’m going to need it again tonight. I need it right now in fact.

  When I come back though, Luke is sitting on the floor beside my front door. Next to him are a pile of boxes.

  "Hey," he says to me, smiling a little as he gets to his feet, juggling the boxes in his arms.

  "What are you doing here?" I ask, putting the key in the lock and half blocking the door.

  "I heard you were sick," he answers, his tiny smile still there. "And I bought you these," he continues, holding the boxes out to me now.

  "I don’t want any company," I say, pushing past him and into my flat. My so-called apology from last night is apparently forgotten. His foot stops the door though, as I try to close it.

  "Ash…." he hesitates. "I know, okay. I know it’s your birthday today. And ah….I don’t think you should be in here alone. Not today." The smile is gone now, replaced with a look that might be half sorrow and half pity.

  As I stand there looking at him, there’s a mixture of anger and sadness churning inside me. I want to tell him to leave. I want to open my mouth and scream at him to go. I’m angry that he’s here, but it’s anger because he knew to come, not because he’s standing here at my front door. I don’t want to need him and I don’t want to need him today especially.

  But more than that, I really don’t want to need him at all. I don’t want to be that kind of person, the kind who can’t survive without having someone be there for them. Because no matter how much I might want it, I don’t want to need it. It seems so pathetic, makes me feel so pathetically useless.

  It hurts being so alone, but I can’t let him see how much I want him here, how tempted I am to just let myself try. To let myself need him, just a little. I can’t risk it, I can’t risk him and I definitely can’t go through it all again, because that’s the part that hurts the most.

  But nothing comes out. Only a defiant tear, which insists on making its way down my cheek, just when I thought I didn’t have anymore left. Luke sees this and without saying another word, he pushes his way into my apartment, puts his boxes on the floor, does the same thing with the bags in my hands and pulls me into his arms.

  Again.

  And again, it seems I’m helpless to stop it.

  As I stand there wrapped in his arms, for some reason the only thought that enters my head is that Luke is in my house. That’s it. How does he even know where I live? Once more, all I feel are his arms holding me against him. Once more, all I can smell is him. And once more, I find myself crying into his chest, making a complete fool of myself.

  We stand there like this for ages, neither of us saying anything. It’s just my tears and Luke’s arms wrapped around me and I don’t know what the fuck is going on anymore; with me, with Luke, with anything.

  Eventually it’s Luke who breaks the silence, whispering in my ear words I hadn’t ever expected to hear, words I never knew could even help, words that have absolutely nothing to do with today.

  He whispers that Liam is gone now, he won’t be at work ever again and everything will be okay. He whispers that I will be okay and I won’t have to see him again. Everything will be alright now. He whispers that it’s okay for me to feel this way, he understands, that I can talk to him if I want to, if I need to. I wonder if he even knows what I’m really feeling. Even I don’t know what that is any more.

  All I do know is that standing here in Luke’s arms, feels so incredibly comforting. Standing in his arms, feels warm and safe, even with his mouth at my ear and his breath on my skin. But then he says nothing more. He just gently strokes my hair until I stop crying.

  Eventually I have to pull away. "Sorry," I whisper, not looking at him. "I’m sorry."

  "You have nothing to be sorry for Ash," he answers softly, pushing my hair back from my face and gently tilting my chin, making me look at him. There’s no pity on his face now, no sorrow either. He just looks as if he wishes he could do something to make it all go away. "Go and wash your face, then come back and see what I’ve brought you."

  He smiles softly at me as he tucks my hair behind my ear. The tiniest shiver runs down my spine in response and I can only nod, before walking into the bathroom to do as I was asked.

  As I stand at the sink, I look at the tiny heart drawn on the mirror. It’s almost gone now, barely visible anymore. Days, weeks and months of shower steam slowly working it off. I don’t want to redraw it because then it would stop being something Sam had put there and become something I’d drawn. Instead I have to slowly watch it fade from my life.

  Just like him.

  I wonder when he drew it, and I wonder why I never noticed it until he was gone. Did he know? Did he somehow know he was going to die all along and if he did, why the hell did he stay with me?

  Did he want to just slowly disappear from my life like the stupid heart he drew on my mirror? I can’t believe that and I can’t watch it either. So without thinking about it, I reach out and wipe the last remaining bits off the mirror with my thumb.

  Now it’s gone. Just like Sam. And I don’t feel any differe
nt.

  I wash my face and dry my hands before quickly dragging a brush through my hair. I look like I’ve been crying but the damage isn’t too bad and despite knowing it shouldn’t matter, I’m glad. When I come back out, I see Luke has put my bags of groceries in the kitchen and picked up the boxes he bought and is now laying whatever’s inside them, out on the table. As I come closer I see they are cupcakes, lots of cupcakes in lots of different flavours.

  "What’s this?"

  He looks at me with an expression that says, are you seriously asking me this?

  I raise my eyebrows at him and shrug. I like that we’re both now acting as though me crying all over him again, is not an issue we need to discuss. I’m glad that what happened yesterday between us is over; gone, washed away like the tears I just washed down the drain. I’m relieved he seems to be so readily able to forget that I was a complete bitch, to him especially.

  "These are your birthday cakes," he says, waving his arm over the selection. "I don’t know which flavour is your favourite, so I baked you one of every sort."

  "You made all of these?" I ask him, momentarily shocked at the effort he’s gone to, for me.

  "Uh huh," he replies cautiously. "I did."

  "Shit Luke, that’s a lot of cupcakes," I say quickly eyeballing the table in front of me. "And each one is a different flavour? This must have taken you forever?"

  "Well there are twenty-four here and at twelve per tray, I guess I made just over two hundred. But, yeah, I didn’t think you’d want that many and we do need to sell some in the shop," he says, a little more relaxed now.

  "You made two hundred cupcakes?"

  "Yep," he answers, smiling. "But these twenty-four are all yours, so where do you wanna start?"

  Standing here looking at him, I just don’t know what to say. I wonder how he even found out it was my birthday today. How he’d known I would be home alone. How he’d known to come over, how he even knew where I lived? How he could even bear to talk to me at all after the way I treated him yesterday. I don’t know how he knows to do any of this. How he always seems to know.

  "I think I’m going to need a coffee and you to help me with all these," I suggest quietly, amazed at what he’s done for me.

  "Nope, they’re all yours," he says. "I’ll take the coffee, but I’m only eating what you don’t like."

  Without another word, he moves into the kitchen and starts to make coffee and I’m immediately struck by how easy he makes this all seem. Ok, so he’s a chef and he knows his way around a kitchen, but it’s something else, something so weirdly comfortable about seeing him in my kitchen. As he reaches for the cups and acts as though everything is all so totally normal, I have to look away. I’m not going to start crying again and I’m definitely not going to start imagining a possibility I know I can’t have and shouldn’t even be thinking about. Instead I take in all the cakes, looking over the rich chocolate, the vanilla, the red velvet – my mouth watering in anticipation. I love all of the flavours he’s made me.

  In the end, I only manage six before I have to stop. I try offering half of each one I eat to Luke, but true to his word he just shakes his head and says, "Only if you don’t like it." What can I say, they are delicious, I wasn’t giving them up.

  "Why aren’t you cooking somewhere else?" I eventually ask him, lying back on the couch and feeling like a giant cupcake myself. "I mean you can seriously cook and are wasted just doing the stuff we serve at work?"

  Luke just laughs now. "Wow, a fan of my music and my cooking, thank you," he says draining the last of his coffee.

  "Luke I’m serious, those cakes are so good, and really, you are wasted in that place." Surely he can see that, "And you didn’t answer my question."

  "Yeah...." he says running his hand over his head like it’s no big deal, as he puts his mug on the coffee table between us. "I’ve tried those other places, restaurants and that. But the hours are shit and I had no life. I work when everyone else is having fun and spend it getting yelled at by some pissed off asshole. Here I’m working regular days, am my own boss, can play in the band at night and I work with great people. All of this makes me happy, so why change?"

  I look at him for a second, wondering if there’s more he isn’t telling me. I think there is, but I, of all people understand his reluctance. Discussing my own past is not something I willingly do with anyone. In any case, deep down I sort of admire him for just doing what it is he loves, regardless of what anyone else thinks. That he just does what makes him happy and it’s as simple as that for him. He might be a little stubborn at times, especially if today is anything to go by, but I think it’s only because if he believes in something or wants it, he just fights for it.

  I wish I had the courage to live like that.

  I smile at him, understanding a little bit more about him now. He’s definitely different to what I expected when I first met him, but it’s in a good way, a really good way.

  "Yeah I guess that does make sense," I eventually say to him, smiling now.

  "It does to me," Luke answers, smiling back at me. "So, what are we doing for the rest of the day?"

  ∞

  Seth was twenty-four when he decided to sign up for the army. My dad was proud of him. I was really angry with him. I didn’t want him to go. I was too afraid of losing him, afraid he would be sent off to war where he would be killed. I begged and pleaded, but he just said it was something he had to do, something he really wanted to do. He didn’t know how to explain it to me, but he almost felt like he needed to do it. When he met Lara, I thought maybe that would change his mind. But it didn’t, he still signed up and then got sent off to basic training.

  Lara was his first serious girlfriend. I won’t lie; my brother was a huge flirt. He loved to chat up girls and would often have a different one after him each week. He wasn’t mean to them, never strung them along, he just made it clear he wasn’t looking for anything serious. He was kind of like that with everything in life. Just out to have fun, to live life and do whatever it was he wanted to do. I think it drove Dad crazy at times, his lack of direction, as Dad liked to call it. But to me, it was just Seth being Seth, enjoying whatever came his way for as long as he could and never really worrying about it when it was gone.

  Which is what made his decision to sign up for the army, and his desire to get serious with Lara that much more surprising, to me anyway.

  Lara was from Florida originally, but had come to study at Brown. Seth met her out one night when he was crashing the bars that college students used to frequent. This was his hunting ground I guess. But when he met her, he really met his match. I don’t think he expected a woman to treat him as he had treated girls in the past. I don’t think he expected her to be so happily casual with him, able to have fun with him and then walk away as though he meant nothing to her. Naturally this made him want her even more. And she made him work for it.

  Watching Seth during this time, I had to laugh. He was so pathetic, pining after her, calling her, trying to convince her to go out with him. Sometimes she would, but always in a group situation. Now Seth was the one being played and all he wanted to do was get her alone. It really was pretty funny to watch.

  The first time I met her was when Seth had a party at home. Dad had gone away for work and although he’d said, "No parties," to Seth, I knew it was inevitable.

  Seth was pretty cool about having one though, and he told me, "You can come along Smash, as long as you don’t tell Dad."

  "You know he’s going to find out right? You never clean up properly."

  "Maybe you can help me?" he asked smiling.

  I crossed my arms as I stood there looking at him, pretending to think about it. "Maybe if the price is right?" I answered in my most serious voice.

  Seth grabbed me in his arms, tickling me as he said, "You drive a hard bargain little sis."

  Of course we had the party and this is when I finally got to meet Lara. My first thought when I met her, wow, she’s gorgeous. Se
cond thought, she really could be perfect for my brother. Third thought, he doesn’t stand a chance.

  I remember watching him follow her around all night. He was pathetic, even I could see that. She wasn’t exactly being mean to him but she certainly knew he wanted her and she was definitely having fun with that. I couldn’t help but admire her for being this way. For knowing that Seth wanted her, but not immediately being in to him like every other girl always was. For making him work for her, prove himself to her. It made me think she was pretty cool and exactly the sort of girlfriend Seth needed. I hoped underneath all that she was nice too.

  Eventually Lara came over to chat to me and that’s when I discovered what she was really like.

  "Hey, it’s Ash right?"

  I looked up from the camera I was playing with to see Lara standing in front of me. Seth had described her to me, had been talking about her all day actually, but it was his reaction when she’d first showed up tonight that really gave away her identity. My brother really was pathetic when it came to this girl.

  Lara smiled at me and I quickly smiled back before looking at my hands as I answered, "Yeah."

  "I’m Lara, nice to meet you," she said, coming over and standing next to me.

  "You too," I said, quickly flicking my eyes up to hers again before concentrating on the camera I was holding.

  "Are you a photographer?" she asked me.

  I couldn’t stop the tiny smile at her assumption. "No, I don’t really know anything about it," I said quietly. "I kind of just try things out as I go."

  Lara’s hand reached out to the camera in mine. "May I?" she asked.

  I silently handed it to her and watched as she expertly flicked through the buttons, looked through the view finder and adjusted the lens.

  "It’s a very good camera," she said, handing it back to me. "I can show you a few tricks some time if you like?"

  I looked up at her in shock as I took the camera back. Lara just smiled at me before walking over to the fridge to get another drink. As she reached in to get one, I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders.