So I push myself up off the floor.
My arms feel weak just like my head.
I lurch forward. Throw up. Gag on the acidic taste of bile that sticks to my tongue. It’s at this point that I realize I’m starving.
It takes some time but I finally make my way off the ground and out the door.
I stumble: winded and sucking the air like a fish out of water.
I lean against the wall with sweat that causes my clothes to hug me tighter than Evaline has in a thousand years.
I’m bleeding and a mess.
I’ve never felt like this in all my existence.
I knew that things would get worse. The doctor told me that things were going to get worse. I just didn’t want to believe it.
And it takes me a minute to find some balance, but eventually I head back to the stairs. Back towards the exit. Back towards fresh air and reality.
I walk close to the wall and feel as if I’m going to fall to the ground at any moment.
As I’m walking I notice that my finger markings are already gone from the wall. They’re covered by dust.
When I get to the stairs I can hardly see. The building is getting darker. Night is stealing away the light that had slipped in.
My footsteps are echoing.
And as I get to the ground floor I hear the sound of something breaking.
My head snaps around, but there’s nothing to see; it’s too dark.
And then I hear footsteps.
I look around but can’t make anything out in the shadows.
And so I start moving for the exit.
My joints ache as I keep myself low to the ground.
I’m distracted by the shuffling of feet.
They’re getting closer.
And then I hear something else break.
I stand up and run.
For a moment I wonder if it’s Evaline that I’m running from. I wonder but I don’t want to find out. For all I know it could be a security guard. For all I know, it could be Dylan.
I pause when I get to the door. My hand lingers for a fraction of a second, and it’s almost as if I can feel the time passing me.
Then I’m out the door.
The night is cold.
The stars are shining.
I’m running when I need to be going back.
And it’s at this point that I realize that this isn’t something I can do on my own. I need help.
And so I start towards Franklin’s.
I’m out of breath and on a park bench.
I just threw up twice in a trash can.
My muscles ache and burn as I sit here with legs that throb. I’m feeling the exhaustion of the last few days kick in.
I feel as if I’ve been awake for years.
And I can’t seem to fight my eyes as they fall shut.
I dream of Evaline.
And in this dream we’re newlyweds with fingers that tangle like the sheets of our bed.
I tell her that I love her.
She tells me that she loves me.
And I know that we both mean it, because in this dream we’re both too young to be afraid of love.
And in this dream we both age.
Our skin wrinkles and hangs from our bones.
We become weaker and weaker with each and every year.
And we don’t mind the gray hair.
And we don’t mind the passing of time.
And we’re both hunched over as we walk the streets together.
We both know that death is coming.
But it’s ok, because we’re with each other.
When I wake up I’m still on the park bench and I’m feeling hung-over. Ear bleeding, gut twisting, sweaty palmed; hung-over. It hurts to open my eyes, and I’m not sure if that’s because I don’t want to let go of my dream or because my brain is half gone.
But, anyway; I take a moment and then stumble to my feet.
The sun is starting to rise and the birds are starting to sing.
I have to squint so that I can see clearly, and it’s when I’m squinting that I realize how much I’ve fallen apart. My body is betraying me, or maybe I’m betraying my body.
Regardless; I’m in shambles.
I’m in shambles and I need Franklin.
I need Franklin to be a friend.
To help me make sense of things.
To have my back.
But first I have to piss. So, I search out a public restroom and pinch my nose in disgust as the overwhelming stench of the tattered bathroom grabs hold of my gut.
There is grime that has been here for 100 years or more.
And I try not to breathe.
I piss and attempt to keep my mind off of this room that I’m in.
And then my feet go out from under me.
And the world, it moves sideways.
Things look strange where I am.
My muscles are tense.
My vision is blurred.
I hear things but it’s all muffled.
And then I look at my hands.
They’re shaking with a confused flood of emotion.
I don’t know when I am. I don’t know where I am. And when I squint hard I can see Evaline sitting in a chair across from me. She sits and looks out the window. Out into the night. Out into the darkness. She has a smile on her face as she watches the stars in the sky.
I want to stand up and give her a hug. I try to say something to her. But this is a memory that I can’t seem to manipulate.
And so I sit here with my tired body and watch as she looks toward the eve.
And I think of all the stars that have come and gone before I ever realized they had been alive.
And she moves her eyes from the window to me.
I strain to see through my blurred vision.
She’s not wearing make-up.
Her hair isn’t dyed.
Her skin isn’t tan.
