She’s important to me which fucking scares me, but that still wasn’t a good enough reason to talk to her the way that I did.
What really fucking guts me is my conversation with Hale.
Someone so young and innocent should never have to deal with issues like this. He shouldn’t have to see, let alone wake up, his uncle passed out drunk in his backyard. No matter what.
How could the kid think that I don’t love him?
It really puts into perspective what a shitty person I have become when my own nephew had to question that. The others are still young, so I know that they would wonder too if they were able to voice their feelings.
I need help.
I needed it a long time ago.
I think it’s about time that I get it.
I fall asleep brainstorming how I could change my ways. For the first time in a long time, I fall asleep sober.
“Tyson, baby,” I hear a soft voice murmur close to me.
I turn around quickly. It has been forever since I heard that sweet sound.
“Stacey,” I say with tears welling in my eyes. My voice breaks when I say her name.
“This isn’t you,” she says with a look of disappointment. Fuck, I hate that I am the reason that she looks like that.
“I know, but I feel like I can’t breathe without you,” I say forcing out the words.
She stands there in front of me giving me a sad smile. She looks even more beautiful than I remember.
“You need to fix your life. This isn’t how I want you to live. You know this,” she says.
I nod my head.
“Fuck, why did you have to be taken from me?” I rasp out and pull her into my arms.
She wraps her arms around me, and I swear that I even breathe in her scent.
“To make room for someone else,” she says with a sad smile.
“Please Tyson, let yourself be happy. I want you to live your life again.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I rasp out.
“Yes you can, my love. Let yourself be happy. It’s okay to be happy,” she says.
Before I know it, before I am ready, she pulls out of my arms and walks away.
I feel myself yell and call out for her, but no sound leaves me.
She turns back around one last time and smiles.
“I love you,” she says before she disappears.
I wake up with a start. I sit up fast, gasping for breath. Sweat is dripping off of my body.
Fuck. Instinctively, I get up and walk to the kitchen where I know a bottle of something is there.
I grab the bottle and uncap it but, as soon as I bring it to my lips, I stop myself.
Fuck. What am I doing?
As much as it hurt to dream of Stacey, this is not how I want to live. This is not who I thought I would become.
I take a deep breath and turn the bottle over in the sink.
I close my eyes as I hear the liquid pour down the drain.
This is the right thing.
I need to do this.
Once the bottle is empty, I sit at the kitchen table.
I can tell that this isn’t going to be easy already.
Everyone is right. I’m hiding from my emotions and now I need help to face them.
I grab my laptop and phone and get to work.
I know what I need to do next.
~
Hours later, I’m showered, dressed, and have a bag packed.
I called my father as soon as I knew that he would be awake to tell him that I wanted to see him and my mother.
They didn’t sound too pleased, but they came.
I open the door before they get off my dad’s bike.
They both eye my bag.
“What’s going on, son? Are you taking off again? What makes you think it will help? It didn’t help last time,” dad says as he walks up to me and crosses his arms over his chest.
My mom looks like she wants to cry already. Fuck.
“This is different,” I say.
I gesture for them to sit on the porch so that I can say what I’m about to say to them.
“I need you both to be quiet until I finish what I’m about to say,” I tell them.
They both eye me for a moment before nodding their heads.
“Alright. Well here goes nothing…” I say as I take a deep breath. I hope to have their support on what I am about to do.
“I am going to a treatment clinic. I know that I can’t do this on my own, and I need the help that they can give me. I also needed to talk to someone because I fought my feelings of grief for so long that I don’t know how to move on. I can’t keep hurting the people I love and I need to get away from here and away from the memories so that I can recover. I can’t ride my bike anymore because I don’t spend any days sober. The only time I’m not drinking, I’m with the kids but then it’s not very long. I tried to be sober during the day, but then my days just got shorter and I picked up a glass of whisky sooner. Hell, sometimes I didn’t bother with a glass and drank from the bottle. Maybe someone will be able to help me with the messed up shit in my head. I’m alive but I’m not living anymore. I’m nothing more
