Chapter 65
Throw Yourself A Pity Party
The next couple days are worse than any time before when I've been left behind. The way Adrian always looked at me, the way he kissed me, and his extreme jealousy led me to believe he’d never leave. That's why this hurts so much. Every relationship I've been in since Jack, I've gone into it knowing that the guy was not interested in long-term. It was predictable, meaning there were no surprises in the end.
On day three, after Adrian left, Shyanne comes to visit me in my padded room, or my bedroom, whatever you want to call it. When she finds me, I'm finishing off the last of a carton of ice cream. My hair has not been combed in several days, and I'm pretty sure I smell worse than her horse.
Shy comes to sit on the bed but has to move a couple bags of Cheetos, and a half package of Oreos.
"Wow, it's like a five-year-old was given a shopping spree and brought it all back here to eat."
I try to smile, but the effort hurts, so I probably look like I’ve been smacked with a frying pan.
”Look,” she begins. “I know I'm not the best person to be giving advice on how to gain emotional stability, but I do have one suggestion that might help."
I'm thinking she's going to offer something along the means of a bottle of tequila, more ice cream, or possibly even suggest a shower, but she surprises me with a stupid mature suggestion on life.
"One thing Ryder said to me, around the time I met you, was that it's okay to have a pity party for yourself, but you can't allow the party to last forever. So, I've taken that little nugget of advice and created my own coping strategy."
She stares at me for a minute with her super sweet smile, the kind that makes me want to throw up the ice cream I just ate. I motion for her to go on. "Are you going to share this advice or you going to keep it tucked away selfishly in your own pocket?"
Shyanne smiles. "Leave it to you to still be a smart-ass even in the depths of your worst depression.”
I sit up and point a finger at her. "I am not depressed, and don't you dare go around spreading that horrible rumor.” I point at myself. “Keegan Hughes does not get depressed over a boy. I outgrew that issue several years ago.”
Shyanne presses her lips into a firm line and nods, but I can see the smile she's trying to hide. We both know I’m full of shit.
"Okay, I'm sorry." She clears her throat. "Anyway, so when something happens that’s upsetting or frustrating, or I feel like it sets me back either in my relationship with Kade, or something with the horses, I allow myself a pity party. I decide, depending on the severity of the problem or stress, how long I’m allowed to feel sorry for myself. For example, right now I'm struggling with funding to rescue a couple of new horses. The funding I thought I had in place fell through after I’d put a ton of work into it. I had myself all worked up to go to the auction and save two horses, and now it's going to be a while before that can happen. What I wanted to do was yell, cry, cuss, scream, and stop trying to move forward with this business. It’s incredibly stressful to have the lives of horses, and the mental health of children dependent on me. But, instead of giving up and going to rock in a corner somewhere, I allowed myself to be miserable and mope around for two days. I spent that time doing absolutely nothing with the business, not thinking about the horses or the program. I spent my time with my horses and enjoyed them. Then at the end of my pity party I had to put my big girl boots on and get back to work.
I tilt my head, pondering. “How long should I get for the worst heartbreak, in the history of all heartbreaks?”
Poised to stand, she shrugs. “That’s for you to decide, but you start med school in two months so maybe before that.”
She’s sweet and all, but she musta hit her head a few times falling off her horse. Two months is about how long it’ll take me to decide how long my pity party should last.
Chapter 66
My Vagina Is Not Broken
“You’re not fun anymore,” Robert says with a rather sad expression.
"Oh is this compliment sharing time?” I ask. “I had no idea, give me a second while I think of one for you."
We’re in Robert’s apartment, and I’m still in my Pj’s from two days ago. It’s been four weeks since Adrian left and I’ve not yet gotten back on my regular sleep or shower schedule.
I found out from Gemma that Adrian left for Texas that day. That’s why he was packing. I’ve thought of many reasons why he would be going back to Texas. I even used a white board and forced Robert and Gemma help.
The best logical explanation for his trip to Texas and sudden desire for a family is that he found out an old girlfriend had their secret love child. The kid’s five now, and his mom doesn’t want him anymore. So, Adrian is going to get the boy and bring him back to his aunt’s. That’s why he asked me about adoption.
I’m just spitballing ideas.
Robert pouts. “I’m only saying, you used to be mean and I was mean, and we would say mean things to each other and then we would laugh, or not laugh either way you used to be funny, but now you’re just all sad and mopey. You cry so much I was thinking about starting to collect your tears to water the plants. It would help save on the water bill."
"Shut up, I don't cry. Well, I cried once last week and that was because I stubbed my toe on the coffee table."
“We don't have a coffee table,” he says, coming to sit next to me on the couch. “I can't believe you're still trying to pretend like Adrian leaving didn't break your heart. It's okay, how can you not know that? You're human you're allowed to have a broken heart, and hurt feelings." Robert wrinkles his nose. "Well, I'm pretty sure you’re human. Your arms are really short in proportion with those long ass legs of yours. Sometimes you kind of look like a T. rex."
I leap onto the couch knocking him backward while swinging my tiny T. rex arms and smacking him in the face. "My arms are not too short. How dare you say something hurtful to me when I'm in such a bad place. You're a horrible friend.”
Robert grabs my hands and stops my smacking with little force. When he opens his eyes to look at me, a huge smile spreads across his face. "That's the most fun I've had with you in weeks. You can't blame a guy for making you laugh. Oh and by the way you just admitted it to be being brokenhearted."
"I hate him, Robert,” I confess, dropping back on the couch. “I hate him more than I hated any of the others when they left. None of them knew how bad it would hurt me when they left, but Adrian always knew."
Robert sighs, leaning in and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
"He emails you every day sweetie, that has to mean something to you. It's been four weeks and you've not answered his calls or responded to any of his emails. As far as he knows you're back here shacking up with some hot tattooed motorcycle guy, but he continues to write to you every day. But you don't even give him the respect of reading any of the emails.”
I don’t read them because I’m terrified he’s going to say something to make me want to forgive him. I can’t forgive him. I’m four weeks into my recovery and I refuse to go back. I’m also afraid the emails are him apologizing, not telling me he made a mistake, just more apologies. If I see he’s okay with his decision, it’ll break me more.
I scrub my face with both hands. “Maybe I should go find a hot tattooed motorcycle guy. That would certainly help with mending part of my broken something."
Releasing me, Robert scoffs. ”It's not your vagina that's broken, sweetheart. And besides, if you so much as look at another guy like you were thinking of screwing him I would probably break your vagina. I know you still love Adrian and if you were with someone else that would ruin any chance of you two ever getting back together."
Getting back together is off the table, and we both know that.
Because I need to end this depressing conversation, I make a joke. “Who are you kidding? I know how severely allergic you are to the female parts. Just thinking about how to break a vagina would probably cause a major asthmatic episode."
Robert nods and gives me a sad smile. “I know there’s a good chance I would die during that mission, but it's a risk I would take."