been the longest three days of my life. I don’t think there’s been a time I’ve ever felt more alone and that’s saying something, considering everything that I’ve been through.
But losing Tommy, I don’t know. It’s left a hole in me that I can’t say I’ve ever felt before. There’s this emptiness, this black pit that feels like it’s swallowing me from the inside out.
The only thing that makes it even remotely better is knowing that Oakley is so close. Even if I don’t see her, it brings me comfort knowing that if I needed to, I could.
She dropped off a few things for me while I was sleeping the other day, but other than that she’s kept her distance. Not that I can blame her. After everything I put her through, the fact that she’s helping me at all is a shock. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve her kindness. And yet here I am, taking it anyway.
I’m a selfish bastard. I always have been.
I’ve respected her rules. I haven’t gone up to the main house even once, though I’ve been tempted, and for the most part I’ve stayed in the apartment. I did venture out yesterday and earlier this afternoon to attend a meeting.
I felt myself slipping. Felt the darkness pulling me under and the familiar buzz of a craving slide through my veins.
I knew if I didn’t get to a meeting, it would all be over. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to use so badly in my life. And yet, somehow I’ve managed to resist.
I think losing Tommy has made me realize something very important. Something I should have realized years ago. It only takes one time. One time and it’s all fucking over. And even though I’ve teetered on the edge for a very long time, the truth is I don’t want to die.
There’s a church that does meetings every day less than a mile from here which has been a godsend. Mike told me about it when I called the shop the day before yesterday.
News of Tommy’s passing had already spread. I guess it was in the local newspaper, though I couldn’t bring myself to buy a copy. I don’t want to see it in print. Somehow I feel like that will make it more real.
Though I really don’t see how it could get any more real than this.
I press a cigarette between my lips and light it, taking a long drag. Pressing my back to the exterior of the garage, I look out over the back yard.
I hadn’t noticed until now, but there’s a playset at the very back of the yard, just a few feet from the fence line. Must be from the previous owners. I try to remember if Oakley said how long she’s lived here, but I can’t seem to pinpoint if she did or not.
I flip my ashes and take another pull from my cigarette.
Tommy’s funeral is in two days. I’m dreading it more than anything because sticking him in the ground is going to give it all such finality. Like fuck, he’s really never coming back.
I’m never going to hear his laugh again or see his goofy ass smile. It seems so unfair. Losing him after I just found him again. So many wasted years. So much wasted time.
I shake my head, feeling the cloud of regret start to seep in.
When Tommy died, the last thing I was thinking about was a funeral. I never thought I’d be responsible for planning one, figuring I would die before everyone else. But then I realized it was up to me. Who else was going to do it? My alcoholic father who hasn’t seen Tommy in nearly a decade? My absentee mother who took off when we were just kids?
Then came the reality that I had no way to pay for it. Who knew that shit was so fucking expensive? I had pretty much accepted I was going to have to cremate him and lug him around in some cheap cardboard box when Devin, the owner of Vance’s Auto, contacted me.
I guess he knew there was no way I was going to be able to pay for the services, and given that he and Tommy had become quite close over the last year, he offered to pay for the entire thing. The only catch, he wants me to continue to work at the shop. I think he just wants to keep an eye on me, because he knows that’s what