Fading (55 page)

These past two weeks have been such a daze. I'm miserable. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I try to keep myself consumed with school, but I can't even focus. Ryan calls me every day, and each time he does, it's just a reminder of how alone I am. I can't even read his texts. I delete them as soon as they come through. When Jase went over there to get my belongings last week, he came back and suggested that I talk to Ryan. But I know there is nothing he could possibly say to lessen this pain. I gave him everything I had to give. I bared it all to him, and the whole time he was lying to me. I feel so betrayed and so used. And the most sickening part of it all is that I still love him. I hate myself for that. I don't know what's wrong with me; I don't understand how I can still feel this way about him after everything.

Mark and Jase still talk to him and see him. I told them that I understand. After all, Mark's band plays at his bar. I can't expect them to not be his friend. But I've been keeping my distance from them because I can't help but feel hurt at the same time.

When Roxy kept asking about Ryan and why she hadn't seen him around, I just didn't have the energy to deal with it, so I quit. I know it was a total overreaction, but all I really want to do is escape from everything. I'm trying hard to be strong and put the pieces back together, but Ryan didn't leave me with pieces—he left me with ashes.

Since I no longer have anything aside from dance to distract me on the weekends, I'm home alone most of the time. Kimber is at her parents' this weekend. She wanted me to come with her, but just the thought of pretending to be happy around her family was enough to exhaust me. Jase called earlier to try and get me out of the house, but I told him I wasn't feeling well. I know he didn't believe me, but I don't care.

He's worried that I'm not taking care of myself, and I guess he should be. I know I look awful. It's only been two weeks and my clothes are all loose on me, but I can't rid my stomach of the knots that consume it. Ms. Emerson has been riding my ass again, and I know I need to pull it together and quick because our production is a mere two weeks away.

When the doorbell rings, I drag myself to the door. I look out the living room window, and I can't swallow against the lump in my throat when I see Ryan's black Rubicon. Leaning my head against the door, I say, "Go away."

"You won't return any of my calls, babe. Please, let me talk to you."

I turn away and start walking back to my room when I hear a key slide into the lock and then the door opening.

Snapping back to face the door, I yell, "What are you doing?!"

"Jase gave me a key."

"Ass," I mumble under my breath. "Ryan, please go. I don't want to talk."

"I can't
not
talk to you. It's killing me."

"It's killing
you
? What about me?" I can barely get the words out over the sob that starts to threaten. "Ryan, I can't do this. I can't even look at you. Please, just go."

"I can't stand to see you like this."

"Then go! I will do almost anything to make you leave."

"Just let me talk to you. Please, babe, just let me talk."

"Fine, say whatever you need to say, then leave me alone."

He motions for me to sit on the couch and when I do, he sits next to me. I can't control the tears that free fall down my cheeks. Seeing his face and being next to him is too much for me. If I had never loved him so much, then he never would have had the power to destroy me like he did. More than anything, I want to cling to him, but I don't. I know I can't ever allow anyone to get that close to me again. I can't give another person the power to hurt me like he did.

"I'm worried about you," he says as he looks me in the eyes.

I turn my head so I don't have to look at him. "Don't."

"When was the last time you've eaten?"

"Ryan, don't. Just say what you need to say."

He reaches for my hand, but I pull it away as he says, "I love you. I know you don't believe me, but I do. No one has ever affected me the way you do, babe. I swear to you...I swear I didn't know. I didn't, Candace. Not at first." When I hear his voice crack, I look up at him and see the tears that fill his eyes, and I have to look back down.

"When I saw you at the coffee shop I thought it was you. I thought you were
that
girl. But then I kept thinking, 'What are the chances?' I didn't know because you looked so different than from that night. And then I found out that you were friends with Mark. Every time I saw you, I felt myself being drawn to you in a way I've never felt before. I had myself convinced that my head was playing games with me, and I honestly did not think you were that girl. It wasn't until I saw your tattoo when we were in bed. That's when I knew. When I found that girl, I saw her tattoo—
your
tattoo."

"Ryan, please," I whimper, but he doesn't stop.

"When I saw it, I broke. I didn't want you to be her. I had already fallen so hard in love with you and realizing that it was you fuckin' killed me. Everything started making sense to me. How scared you always were with me when we first met, how afraid you were when I tried to touch you. Everything made sense. But, I didn't know how to tell you. And then you told me you loved me, and I know how hard that was for you. I just couldn't hurt you," he says, now crying.

"But you did. You lied to me. I let you see all the parts of me that weren't pretty, but you knew all along. And when I finally opened up to you, you already knew." Lowering my head into my hands, I cry. I cry hard. "You let me give everything to you. You had to have known that you couldn't hold on to that secret forever. I would've eventually found out, and you still let me fall for you like I did. I feel so stupid and used, like you just felt sorry for me or pitied me."

"I never pitied you, babe. I have only ever loved you. I just didn't want to hurt you."

He reaches out to hold me, but I push him back and stand up from the couch.

"I can't do this. You can't say those things to me."

Standing up and taking a step toward me, he says, "I know I fucked up. I fucked everything up so bad. I know all you wanted was someone you could trust. I wanted to be that for you, and I fucked it all up. But, I didn't know what to say; I was scared. You'll never know how fucking sorry I am."

"I knew better. I knew I shouldn't have let you in like I did. But, I can't see you anymore. You have to stop calling and texting. I need you to just not exist for me because I can't do this. It hurts more than I thought anything possibly could."

"Candace, please."

"Just go."

He doesn't move. He just stands there. A part of me never wants him to move, but I know he needs to. I can hardly bear to see the pain in his eyes and the tears running down his cheeks.

"Please, you have to go. I can't do this," I plead with him.

Looking at me through his tears, he chokes out, "You have to know how much I love you."

"Please, Ryan," I say with closed eyes. I just need him to go because I can't take the excruciating pain any more. My eyes stay closed until I hear the click of the door as it closes behind him. I know I shouldn't, but I can't stop myself from watching him get into his jeep. I feel like I need to scream for him to come back, but I don't. I just let him drive away.

My heart hurts so bad, I swear it feels like I'm dying. I can't take this anymore. I know I can't live like this. I can't do this on my own. I've tried so hard. But I just can't do it anymore.

It's been just over a week since Ryan walked out of my house, and I finally hit my bottom. I finally had to surrender, and I knew I had to stop clinging onto people. I had to stop running to Jase. He would never be able to save me. And I no longer had Ryan to cling to. But even if I did, he wouldn't be able to save me either. I knew it was up to me to pull myself together and get help because all I wanted to do was fade away.

The first time I went to see Dr. Christman was the day after I saw Ryan. We decided that I would see her twice a week. During our first session, I basically told her everything that had happened since August: Jack, Kimber, my parents, Ryan. I told her about how I grew up and why I didn't seek therapy earlier this year when everything was falling apart. I really like Dr. Christman. She's helping me to see that what Jack did wasn't my fault. I still harbor guilt about it, but not as much as I used to. She's helping me learn how to tolerate my emotions and not avoid everything that I consider my triggers, like my fear of crowds or my thoughts of Jack.

Today is our fourth session. When I walk into her office and sit in my usual seat on the couch. "Hello, Candace. How are you feeling since we met earlier this week?"

"Okay, I guess."

"And what does that mean? What's 'okay'?"

"I've been trying to eat better, which I think is good. But, I haven't been sleeping well, so I've been really tired."

"What do you think is keeping you up?"

"It used to be Jack, but lately it's been Ryan. He keeps flashing through my head, and when that happens, I get really upset. I know I need to move on, but it's really hard."

"It's only natural that this will take time. You loved him, and that doesn't go away just because he hurt you. But it sounds like he also helped you. Would you agree with that?"

Shifting on the couch, I say, "I suppose. But, it really just seems like a façade. Like everything I thought he was helping me through wasn't real because the whole thing was a lie."

She flips a page over on her tablet and begins taking notes before asking, "But was it a lie? We know he held onto the secret of who he was to you, but were the feelings a lie?"

"I don't know. I mean...they felt real."

"If Ryan would have told you from the beginning who he was, if he was honest about that, do you think you would have let yourself feel what you felt for him?"

Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I say, "Yes."

"So, was it all a lie then?"

I shake my head and say, "I get what you're saying, but I can't go back."

"I'm not saying go back. There was a betrayal, and you have every right to guard yourself against that, but don't dismiss your feelings as a lie. He was able to show you that you are capable of loving, and trusting, and having faith."

"I just don't know how to move past him."

She sets her pen and tablet down and leans back in her chair. "Well, that takes time, just like any loss we suffer. What is one thing you think you can do to help that process?"

"I don't know. I guess...I guess I need to stop spending so much time thinking about why I can't go back to him and just focus on the fact that I was already with him and it just didn't work. When I think about why I can't go back, it's like I'm trying to convince myself that I shouldn't, when I really need to focus on the fact that it just isn't an option. He's my past, and I need to start focusing on what I'm going to do about my future."

"And what about your future can you focus on?"

"My dancing. I have my performance this weekend, so hopefully offers will start coming in this next week. I need to focus on making New York happen. It's always been my dream."

She picks up her notepad and begins to write as she says, "I think you have a good plan."

We continue on to discuss issues about Jack and some of the paranoia I still feel about him for the rest of the session. After making my follow-up appointment, I stop by the house and grab my dance bag to spend the rest of the day rehearsing and focusing more on the thing I do have control over, which is my career, not Ryan.