Day Three, Part I

Day Three.

Hello, headache. Sunday, March 10

2013. I didn't sleep much,

tossing and turning, afraid of

the shadows around the closet and

the whispering wind against my

window. I woke up early and felt

like my skull was going to

explode. The pulsing, pounding

pain behind my bloodshot eyes

drove me to the fountain for a

splash of water. Even my mouth

felt dry and overused. A sign

that I had probably spent a good

morning of the night screaming

and sobbing in my dreams.

Horrible dreams. Dreams of you

and me in the field outside the

hotel on the north part of town,

surrounded by wildflowers, the

wild tree behind us, laughing and

glowing in each other's gaze....

until you stand up and run away.

Start Santanna, and zoom away,

leaving me stranded in the field,

off a highway, in the middle of

nowhere. Wandering around, unable

to get home. Crying for you,

confused, frightened, but you

never come back. You didn't even

look in your rear view mirror as

you drove away.
Usually the dilemna of what to

wear is enough to bog down my

morning, but the new dilemna of

where to go to church? what

Sunday school class? Where to sit

during the main service? what to

do if I saw you? What to do if I

didn't? Where to park? What to do

when it was time to get up and

leave? I bawled back into bed and

hid under the covers, a

whimpering pitiful mound of

Noelle puddle. I couldn't stand

to process it, any of it, any

more. I couldn't pretend to be

strong and happy when I was

shattered and on fire inside. My

chest burned so badly, a weight

pressed so heavy on my chest, the

sobs turned into a minor panic

attack and I groaned against the

darkness and gasped for breath,

for sanity, for any lifeline. My

headache exploded with the tears

and the effort of breathing.
I eventually fell asleep,

exhausted, and awoke only when

the RA was shaking me, asking why

I wasn't going to church. Screw

you. Will the whole world just

leave me alone for one hour?

Sleep didn't come so easily again

and I spent most of the morning

grasping my head between my

fists, trying to calm the

headache. Oh, I longed for your

gentle, soothing hands to massage

away the tension and gently

massage my little glands. But my

own hands were not as skilled and

there was no releif. I tore into

my hair and wept afresh, wildly,

drowning in denial and defeat.

The Levi who held me so tenderly

really didn't love me? It was all

a lie? A masquarade?
Humiliation sapped my strength

and I lay burning in shame and

anguish of soul. I didn't

understand anything.
Eventually, my phone went off and

it was midafternoon. Kendon had

left the car for me in the

middle. He was hanging out with

Josh, eating pizza probably. I

wanted to text you, to call you,

to beg you to come to me. I threw

the phone across the room and

listened to it thud against my

roommate's plush covers. I'd

learned my lesson four weeks ago

about throwing it against the

floor. Screens are fragile.
I prayed for a long time before I

could even get up. God, give me

strength. God, salve this pain.

God, bring him back. God, why?
There was no clear answer. Just

the subconscious knowledge that

even when I don't feel him, he is

right there with me grieving

alongside my anguish. I wept that

someone could love me so, when no

one else ever kept their love to

me.
I hadn't eaten since Friday

morning with my parents. Pizza

was out of the question, but my

room was cold. Hot chocolate?

Caramel. Your favorite brand. I

had actually bought the box for

you on Valentines Day and then

chickened out. When I got my mug

from the bookshelf, your gift to

me, Patrick swam up to the glass

and looked at me with anxious,

happy eyes.
Come play?
I took him to the bathroom and

cleaned out his tank. The rudial

task gave me something to focus

on,and the mental pain faded like

a dull throb into the background.

Patrick didn't like being

trappedin my mug but I don't have

the little plastic cup that he

came with anymore. Or the filter

system. I wondered absently if

I'd get it back before you left

Oklahoma City, or if I should

just make a trip to PetsMart and

toss out more money.
"I will never take care of him

again."
Poor Patrick.
Abandoned just the same as me.

You used to talk about him all

the time, even built him his own

shelving unit. Upgraded his tank.

Fussed about feeding and

sleeping habits, cleaning the

water. Lecturered me to death

about it all. And now you didn't

care what became of him, or if

you even saw him again. It is as

if you don't understand that he

misses you. Sometimes, when my

rommates have thier friends over

and my room is loud and bright,

Patrick floats in the water

wiggling his fins, but sad. I

miss the guys.... I can see it in

his little expression.
"I will never take care of him

again."
The tears flowed, mixing with the

water in the sink pooling down

the drains. By the time I had

refilled the tank and applied the

water cleaner, I was as wet as

Patrick. The tears wouldn't stop.
Hot chocolate. A hot shower.

Anything to stop the shakes that

came from the stress and greif. I

would have to leave for choir

soon.
Choir.
A big dream I decided to pursue.

Choir, in a big church. I'd gone

to practice last week, and now

practice again this week. After

the second time in practice, Bro.

Don said I had to do tryouts. Me,

him, the pianist... I can sing,

but I am still so nervous.
I like alto better but I'm in the

soprano side of the choir,

because the alto side is maxed

out. The ladies are nice but

don't seem to notice that I am

even sitting beside them. It's a

little hard on me, but... the

anonymity is nice in a way. I

used to love anonymity. I used to

love hiding, being unknown, being

safe in the shadows. Maybe that

was the mystery and intruige that

made you fall in love with me?

But then you were always onto me

about having more friends, being

more social, being more popular.

It seems that what drew you to me

was the very thing you always

pushed to change about me.
I digress.
Daylights saving time.
I don't know what to wear to

church, or how to do my hair. I

want to be beautiful in case you

look at me... but I don't feel

beautiful anymore. I must be the

ugliest, fattest, most disgusting

girl in the college. Because in

the end my beauty wasn't enough

to even make you look at me when

we talked at the West. Your eyes

zoning out everywhere but on me.

I know I'm not beautiful, but...

I've never felt so worthless in

my life.
I miss my Levi.
He would have something to say

about all this, I'm sure. He

would roll his eyes and say,

"Babe, your fine." He would

gently tussle my hair and turn my

heart with his crooked, innocent

little boy smile. "Baby girl, I

love you just the way you are.

I'm so happy you joined the

choir. I'm so proud to see My

Noelle up there."
I put your heart necklace on and

pull on my boots. I know the old

you isn't the real you living in

current reality. But. Maybe it's

better to be delusional.