Short Story / And he says I make him happy

Tryn told me once that he didn’t remember how to live. It was a sunny day, and I had talked him into heading down to the beach with me. The clouds were huge marshmallows, outlining the future like a smartass deck of tarot. The rays were beating into our too-pale-for-this-coast flesh as Keke trailed behind us occasionally zigzagging between us. It was a day that we should have been grateful to see- a day that should have warmed our souls and opened our eyes. It didn’t. The heat only made us both impossible to be around- all our friends had given up months ago, even Ben and Allen. We just had each other. And barely that.

Tryn likes to hurt me, you see, the same way I like to hurt him. We have an unhealthy relationship and that could very well be an understatement. But we keep each other breathing, so we cling to each other like spooked children in a haunted house. Anyway, back to that day. We were kicking sand; I was blowing smoke rings into his face like a bratty kid that does anything for attention. He kept mumbling and cursing and coughing so finally the guilt got the best of me and, I gave Tryn and his asthma a break. We sat down on the hot sand, our blond heads drinking the sunlight, our bodies scratching for anything that resembled nourishment and I asked him a question. I teased, “Trinity, my love, why do we do this to ourselves?” with a crooked smirk that challenged him to respond. He looked over to me, looked through me and vacantly replied, “Honestly, I don’t fucking remember how to live.” Ouch. The seriousness in his eyes burned me and his tone wasn’t any less severe. It was then that I understand how my self-destruction was fueling his. And for the first time since I had learned how easily I could manipulate him, I felt horrible remorse. I knew just how much influence I had. It’s also when I realized how close he was to dying. So, I cried. I just put my head into the sand and bawled. I begged the ocean to make me unselfish, I wished for stability, practicality, and sanity. Tryn stared stone-faced at the horizon as Keke trampled circles around us.

After about 30 minutes of my tears melting in the dry sand, Tryn lifted my head up by my hair and said he was ‘goin home and to get my fat ass up if I was going with him’. I reacted as if he had shoved a grenade down my throat. “Did you just call me fat???” I screeched. He just stared at me with quiet, distant eyes, turned and walked away. See, this is yet another reason we’re so bad for each other. We’re both obsessive, manipulative, perfectionist, pissed off anorexics. Not the best combination. Two completely self-absorbed people trying to save each other. Yea, Tryn and I aren’t the most emotionally mature couple around.

Anyway, for him to call me fat after all the damned starving I had done-it was too much. I actually ran to catch up with him, convinced I would cry and scream until he told me what I wanted to hear, but when I fell in stride with him, he just stared at the empty sky. We walked back to his house in silence. I focused on the ground, feeling like the innocent victim (despite the fact that 35 minutes ago I was brooding about how much control I had over everything) and Trinity played the strong, manipulative role and by the time we got into his house we were passionately in love all over again. He broke the ice by tickling me and the rest of the night was picture-perfect. We kissed and rolled around on the bed, playing, cuddling, kissing-just being together. Neither of us had much of a sex drive then (side effect of starving) so usually our affection was based on pure adoration for each other.

When I finally heard his soft snore beside me and listened to his breathing patterns to make sure he wasn’t about to die on me, I closed my eyes. Insomnia hadn’t plagued me as badly lately, however, that night I couldn’t stop wondering if I was Tryn’s worst enemy. I also couldn’t stop wondering if he really thought I was fat. Can you tell I’m a bit preoccupied? Yes, I know, but as I told you we are both obsessive anorexics, so you’ll have to hear me bitching about my fat on a regular basis throughout this story. Tryn is the same way. I have a point here, I promise. Since the day Trinity had decided I was worthy to be his love interest, I had dropped 47 pounds, putting me down to 93 the day he called me fat. But I was fat. And I was killing Tryn. So, being the helpless control freak that I am, I cried myself to sleep.

Trinity woke up earlier than me the next day and made some wretched attempt at cooking a perfect vegan breakfast. It was horrible. And I told him it was horrible and he threw it at me. The boy actually picked up his 146 calorie vegan pancake mess with real intent of hurting me and hurled it at me. I started laughing wildly. That pissed him off even more; he stormed out of the house. Keke gave him a dirty look because as he slammed the door he disturbed her sleep. By the time I stopped laughing, I was hysterically crying. It was bad. We made each other’s lives hell at this point.

About three weeks passed and shockingly, Tryn nor I had caused any major harm to each other since the “pancake” incident. I got on the scale one morning and when I came out of the bathroom grinning, he demands, “How much?”. Of course I won’t answer him, I just keep smiling and then-me to him, “Am I still fat?” He says no then proceeds to explain that I look like I’m on the verge of death. “How sweet, Trinity, make up your fucking mind.” Nothing I did was ever enough.  I told him, though, I smiled, and blurted “84”. Still to this day I don’t know if it was jealousy or concern, but he actually called Allen (who is my cousin-how I met Tryn in the first place when we were 13) and tattled on me! Three hours later I find myself in the waiting room for the eating disorders unit in Sandstone Hospital. Tryn wouldn’t even go with me to check in- he was terrified someone would notice his emaciated body and admit him. I sat there swinging my bony legs (not bony enough), plotting ways to get revenge on my lover. That’s when the doctor came in. She was so angry the second she (barely) recognized me. The last day she had seen me, the last day of my previous admittance, and recovered, I had been 56 pounds heavier. I just gave her the most cynical smile my weak jaws could produce, and she shook her head.

Dr. Craft gave me the evil eye as I handed her my papers. This is a game we play, this was my sixth visit to an ED unit, and my third visit to Dr. Craft’s care. She hated me. I knew that partially it was because I had two things she’d never have-thinness and Trinity (right, now you’re thinking how superficial I must be, right? Yea, I know). The other reason was probably just because I gave her such a hard time. This is the boring part of my story. If you’ve been to one ED unit, you’ve been to them all. Same shit, different place. The routines, trying to avoid food, fighting the nurses to let you piss with the door shut, the scales that hide your weight from you, the new girls begging to see the numbers on the scale. And the most interesting part is all the emaciated anorectics competing for the most undernourished award of the year while the average sized bulimic girls sit around pissed off, plotting against the superiority complexes of the anorexics. Yep, it’s a regular picnic (no pun intended).

Anyway, I could pretty much be out of this place soon, I knew it, and I succeeded. I played the games, ate, did all those things that I hated to do. I spent my unplanned time thinking and writing about Tryn. Luckily I was only there a little over three weeks and when I got home he was just as I’d left him, except maybe a few pounds lighter (see, it was all just cause he was jealous, mmhhmm, I know my boy). He pretended my return home mattered, he pretended that he wasn’t repulsed by how fat I was. Yea, they had packed 14 pounds onto me by the time I left. I was huge and I could see the disgust in Tryn’s pretty eyes. He didn’t hide his emotions as well with me as he did others. I could also see his ribs; he was smaller than me. I was jealous but I think that deep down I did know how much trouble we were both in. We kept sinking, fighting and loving for the next three months. He wrote a few songs for the next album but avoided the subject of our obsession. The public had no idea that Trinity was still continuing his anorexic behaviors.

He gained weight. The promo photos for Dynamic had to be taken soon. I started making him higher calorie meals without letting him know. Can you believe how much he trusts me? I can’t. Anyway, he didn’t notice at first. he always wore his clothes too big and I hid the scale-telling him I threw it away so I could “recover” (he had to know I was lying about that). He played along for awhile but I’d barely tricked him into gaining 15 pounds before he really noticed. And do you think he spazzed? Yea, he sure did. Trinity had things under more control then than I did though. And he didn’t fight me, he knew he had to appear healthy for the sake of his image.

I think he was genuinely happy for a few weeks. We spent too many days in the ocean and our time was slipping away, the tour would come too soon. I couldn’t handle the travels and everything associated with the rock and roll lifestyle so I never went with the band. I would stay behind and take care of Keke.

Tryn was so beautiful then. His face glowed, his body slightly grew and he was so pretty. I remember kissing his eyelids while he lay there, running his fingers through the sand. He would even sing sometimes. The new songs were perfection. He was becoming everything I had ever dreamed of- his intelligence, emotion, and talent mesmerized me. I fell for him all over again. I even started eating more myself and maintained my weight. I was on cloud nine, I was so content with Tryn and even with myself to an extent. Of course, it ended. He left.

It went downhill from there. Nothing is beautiful since Trinity has left. I have nobody to keep me strong, to keep me alive. He is so far- across the night. I didn’t want to be lonely, I just wanted to be alone. And now that I have my isolation-I hate him for leaving me.

-—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—--

Which brings us to the present. I speak my story to this tape recorder as I make my ultimate decision. My arms are bleeding, my heart is shattered, my soul is cold. Jagged shards of the fake creature that I use to be keep stabbing me in the back. And it’s my fault. I’ve made these stupid decisions and I’ve caused Tryn too much harm. He’ll be gone for six more weeks. This is only day three. How will I make it? If you’ve listened to my story thus far, you know how weak I am. Or do I hide it well? Anyway, I haven’t eaten since he left. Nothing. I just keep drinking water to fill the void that Tryn’s presence numbs. I don’t deserve food. I don’t deserve love. I don’t deserve to breathe. More than anything, I don’t deserve Trinity to be killed by me and our shared disease. So do I stay, let him come back to me and proceed to ruin his precious life? Or do I go slowly, our way, starvation. Giving myself a slight chance of survival, maybe if I am saved I can take it as a sign to go on? Should I just get this over with at once? Slice a bit deeper, Avery. Embrace the lesions on my thin (not thin enough) wrists. Let them take me home. I’ll be light as a feather there. I’ll be the bird I’ve longed to be all these years. I can float and watch over my Tryn. And I’d have the greatest view.

What do I do? Do I keep holding on without you? Tryn…can you hear me…in your mind, heart, anywhere? I’m reaching for you. The blood loss is causing me to dose…[Trinity? Am I saying this out loud? Can you hear me, love? I miss you…]. And as I gaze down at my bloody wounds, I’m stretching and pushing my mind to his, but I think I’m dying. [Tryn, I’m dying here alone…I don’t want to be lonely]. I’m drifting…[clouds, sunshine, perfection, beauty-it’s all here, but where am I? Trinity? I love you].

The phone is ringing and now I must decide. Should I answer it? Am I worth it?

*

From his eyes…

The premiere show in Vegas was a good start. I watched the crowd lean in, trying to reach me, trying to reach us. It’s one hell of a feeling, ya know? I had forgotten just how much I enjoyed touring. I mean, I hate it, but the energy of our fans always keeps me going.

Sometimes I do long for the day that I can just sit at home, write songs, play with Keke and spend time with Avery (despite the fact that I want to freakin’ strangle her sometimes). Hell, now I’m off track. Oh yea, the crowd- they were really into it, a perfect dose of nutrition. Ok, I’m lying. I hated it. I hated it the same way I’ve hated touring ever since we toured for our last record, Starland. All I could think of was my isolation and how it had been purged. I’m naked-they could probably all see right through me and doing live shows makes me a rotten mess.

But Ben sure was living it up. Allen seemed quite distant himself, however. I pondered whether the audience could sense our akwardness. Do they know how far we are from what we use to be? Do they, do you, think we are all still the best of pals? Sadly, the answer is nah, we aren’t. The friendships faded, we grew apart. All of us almost agreed to never even make Dynamic, but we went ahead and did it. I mean, we can still make our tunes and put up the facade, but when it comes down to the connection- we lack.

First Allen and Sarah got lost in their dreamy love world, and Benji and I built a bit of resentment. But during our touring for Starland, Avery and I got together, and she even decided to leave her current home in Nebraska and move back to NYC with me. And we shut the world out, locking the door of social interaction behind us.

We are both quite aware of what we do; even partially why we do it. It can’t make sense to some of you, but self-destruction becomes a way of life. It does become an obsession. And once you start killing yourself it’s a lot easier to take someone else down with you. Do you think we care? I don’t fucking know anymore. But all I could concentrate on that night was getting home. I missed my girl (Keke, that is). And I couldn’t prevent myself from wondering if my timed-bomb girlfriend had combusted yet. I guessed I had best phone her to see how Keke was holding up and if Avery was…

After the first three rings, my nerves started to get jittery. Fifth ring. Still no answer. No machine either. Eight ring-nothing. I didn’t panic then. I went to the bar in our hotel and downed a few shots despite the ulcer- fully knowing I would hate myself and the pain I had inflicted soon after. At the time I didn’t care though. I had to occupy my time, I was worried sick.

A half an hour was all I could stand. So, five shots and much funds later, I returned to my room. My head was a bit fuzzy and everything was spinning. Don’t laugh, damn you, I don’t drink too often and I also don’t eat too often, therefore I was heavily buzzed by the time I got back in the room. I fumbled with the lock for at least 3 solid minutes, peering over my shoulder to make sure no stray fans had found their way to me. People make me a nervous wreck, and I surely didn’t need to see anyone in my current state of (almost) panic. After what seemed like infinity, I got the door open and collapsed onto the bed, noticing the lumps despite the costliness of this joint. Even in my rush to call home, I couldn’t help but notice how my ribs poked into the bed. I smiled. Then I picked up the phone again.

“Hey, leave a message, we’re busy” I listened to my annoying voice pronounce on the other end.

“Avey?, pick up the phone, it’s me.”

I waited…and waited.
The machine clicked off. Dial tone. It was then that I entered full fledged panic state.

I ran to Benji’s room, pounded on the door like a maniac. He looked sleepy when he answered the door and his hair was sticking up all over the place. I guess I had intruded at a bad time, but I had to talk to him.

“What is it, Tryn? You look blitzed.” announced Ben.
“Umm…well yea, Avery isn’t answering…and you know..she’s so…well, yea, umm…I’m flipped out, Ben.” I stammered.
“How long you been tryin to get thru?” he asked.
Me-”Well, I tried about an hour ago, no answer then, not even the machine, then just now…the machine came on…but she didn’t pick up…”
“What if she went to the store, Trinity?”
“What the hell for, Benji, she doesn’t fucking eat for christ’s sake, and she hates people more than even me.” It came outta my mouth sounding harsh.
“Yea, good point,” he said looking back towards his room, “stay right here, let me throw on a shirt.”

So I stood outside Benji’s door (what the hell was he doing in there that I couldn’t know about? I didn’t think I wanted to know) for about 5 minutes staring at the floor, pacing. That’s when the hallway started to swirl. The red carpet was meshing through itself, the walls got blurry and I thought, well this sure isn’t a good sign. And that’s the last thing I remember from that night.

“Tryn? Wake the hell up, dude. Hellllooo??? Eh! Hey knucklehead!!!”

I heard the loud obnoxious voice I recognized as Ben’s, and opened my tired eyes. Searching, the room was familiar, the bed…my hotel room. I looked up to Benji. “What happened?” I managed to ask through clenched teeth. My head was fucking throbbing.

“You lightweight” he laughed. Fucker. I bet he meant that in more ways than one. I hoped so. I continued to squint around the room, the sunlight became my enemy, and I shielded my sensitive eyes. I slowly began to recall the events of my previous night…phone call, alcohol, panic. Shit.

“Did you ever get ahold of her?” I mumbled. My concern had lessened since I sobered up but it still left me shaken.

“No…buddy, I didn’t, I’m sorry..we tried a couple times but we were kinda freaked about you, ya know?.”

Dammit, dammit shit hell dammit. I reached for the phone and experienced a jolt of de ja vu. Chills ran up and down my chiseled spine, and I prayed that this wasn’t a bad sign. One ring. Two rings. The machine picked up. Panic started to take over again but I talked to it anyway.

“Hey Ave, it’s me, pick up please.” I pleaded. I was biting my fingernails down to the quick. Maybe the circumstances were bothering me a bit more than I had wanted to admit. I curiously watched the blood drip from my left thumb.

As I waited, I glanced over to the door and saw Allen standing there. He looked worried. Sometimes I think he was the only one who could actually see what we did to ourselves. Of course, he probably cared more about Avery than he did me. They were blood after all. I had the idea that he was the one that made the phone calls last night after my little episode. Benji was too absorbed in his rock-n-roll world and probably whatever had been going on in his room last night. Lost in my thoughts, I almost didn’t even realize someone had picked up at my house.

“Darlin’?” I hoped.

Silence on the other end. Well, not quite silence. There was sound, I could hear rustling sounds and someone fighting with the phone.

“Hey, babe? It’s me, is that you?” I pleaded. The waiting was killing me. I’m so damned impatient.

“Hello?” it was a whisper. But it was her. Thank god! My nerves were on the verge of spiraling downward until I heard her voice. It was times like this that made me realize just how needy I was. And maybe just how in love.

“What’s going on? Are you okay? You sound funny.” I proclaimed.

“Yea, Trinity? I’m so glad you called…well, I think I am…can you hold on?” she asked.

So, here I was. Waiting. Again. Damnit. I thought my head was going to implode with all the anxiety that was building up. Allen rushed over, the concerned look had faded a bit, he was almost smiling. He kept giving me silent questions with his hands. I just nodded and we both calmed down a bit. Then she came back on the line.

“Baby, I’m…well, I’m bleeding. I just woke up. On the floor…I was kinda being stupid last night and well…I..” she broke off.

“What? What’s going on? And why the fuck are you bleeding?” I demanded.
Al was looking frantic now but I couldn’t answer the questions I knew he wanted to ask, so I just looked down at the blood on my left hand.

“Well, Tryn, apparently I cut myself up pretty bad last night, but I’m alright now. I grabbed a bandage but the bleeding had already stopped. I made quite a mess though, sorry.” she mumbled.

“Why?” that was all that would come out of my mouth.

“The blood, it made a mess, I guess I got clumsy as I started to pass out…” a whisper again. Oh god, I thought. She thinks I only care bout the mess. How the hell must I treat her if she doesn’t know I’m scared because of what she did? Replacing the carpet was not on my mind.

“Sweets, that’s ok. Why did you do it, I mean? Are you sure you’re ok? I mean, we can come back for a few days, or you can come here. I don’t want you alone right now. You have to tell me what’s the matter? Please.” I was crying. I wondered if she heard it in my voice, I was trying to hide it yet make it known because, well that’s just how I am. No matter how heartbroken and terrified I was I always had to put on that bloody mask of my non-existent apathy. No wonder she thought I didn’t care. Damn my selfishness. My emotions were still fighting themselves when she said:

“Trinity, I really need to talk to you. I am such a burden, I know, but I have to see you soon or I’m going to give up. I’m sorry to put you in this position, but I need you so bad. I don’t wanna die, I just can’t find the strength to live. I’m so sorry.” she sobbed.

Quoting my own lyrics back to me. That was a nice touch she added. I loved her, and I was worried but I couldn’t help feel a tinge of anger at her play on my words. Should I have felt angry? Maybe I should’ve been impressed, flattered. Or maybe I just should have understood. I didn’t. But I agreed to fly back home for a week so we could talk things over. I told her I had to do tonight’s show and then I’d be on my way. She promised me that she wouldn’t hurt herself in the meantime. It would be a hard promise for her to keep, I knew and this worried me even more.

All I could do was take her word for it, though.

It was almost 3pm when I hung up the phone. I gave Allen a quick explanation as to what was going on and he scolded me for not allowing him to speak to his cousin, but we had to hurry, so the scoffel ended soon enough. I thought about the time difference and it had only been about 5 or 6 in the mornin’ when I got through to her. I wondered if she had been passed out the first time I called which had been about 10 hours ago. Probably not since she had said “last night” so, then I had to think about where the hell she had been. I tried not to dwell on it though.

I shuffled Benji & Allen outta my room and headed into the bathroom to brush my teeth and change my clothes. We had to get to the venue in time. As I looked in the oval bathroom mirror, my reflection taunted me. It wouldn’t be long before the media started to notice my collarbones sticking out again, so I made the decision to eat a somewhat healthier meal before the show. That stupid little voice inside me kept saying “no, you’re too fat” but I told it to shut the hell up and went on with my day.

I forced down a salad, apple and 2 glasses of water while we waited for the crew to get everything set up. While I was munching my crisp apple, I saw Travis walk up. He was an old friend of Avery’s, and I suddenly realized that we were in Houston so I should have been expecting him. My brain had been too frazzled to think about anything other than getting myself prepared and over the gnawing apprehension that was tearing away at my feelings.

“Hey Tryntonia, how goes?” he spoke as he approached me, extending his hand. It was good to see a familiar face in such an unfamiliar city.

“It’s alright, Trav, and yourself?” I responded.

“Not too bad, hey, I spoke to Avery earlier online, and she told me that she’s kinda wiggin’ out over their being alone and all.” he mentioned innocently. I couldn’t help but feel the stab of jealousy. Even though I knew they were just friends it hurt me that she would talk more to him than me. I couldn’t worry about that then, though, so I nodded.

“So, what’s it going to take for me to talk you into letting me and my friend, Jade, tag along with you tomorrow?” he asked. I was confused and a bit pissed. Did he mean he wanted to fly back to NYC with me? I could tell by the anxious look on his face that he did. Well, that’s a fucking bitch, I thought, but then I gave up my selfishness long enough to think how it may benefit Avery. And me, actually. Maybe if I couldn’t talk some sense into her, he could.

“You wanna go back to the big apple with me, Trav? I guess that could be arranged…nice to meet you, Jade.” I added. She was a gorgeous girl with red hair that would make a fire look tame. I tried to keep my eyes from wandering but it was nearly impossible. He looked happy enough to have her as company and I decided that her presence would be a relief to my almost unsupressable jealousy.

“Hey, Trinity, it’s great to meet you too, I’ve always had a slight adoration for your art.” she complimented. That made me smile. Especially the way she said it, at least she wasn’t another teeny googling over me for no apparent reason. It’s a fucking treat when I’m on the road and actually get to meet people who aren’t in shock of so-called “stardom”.

I explained that we’d meet tomorrow at my hotel room at 8a.m. and apologized for my abrupt exit, but had to get back to the dressing room. They understood, so I headed to the back.

Four hours later, we emerged onstage. This place was better than the last few. It was called The Engine Room; the crowd was impressive. I really got into it that night. I let my emotions belt out in my lyrics and Allen & Benji were really tearing it up back there. It was one of the angrier shows of my career, but I had to let it all out. It was much needed therapy; the fans wallowed in it.

The night came to a perfect end, I thought, as I lay my dirty head down on the white, fresh pillowcase. I could only hope that when I got home, the rest of my story could be just as pleasant.

That flight was the longest of my life. It took us almost 6 hours to arrive home. As I sat on the plane, I just kept staring out the window, the sky was rather beautiful- it was painted a pastel blue and the white clouds were inviting. I tried to catch some sleep but it didn’t last very long, I got in a few winks here and there, but for the most part my mind wouldn’t let me rest. Every possible worst scenario played through my head, rewind and play again.

I was drowning in my self-pity and the obvious affection between Travis and Jade wasn’t making matters better. I kept dwelling on the possibility that my relationship was going to come to an end. It saddened me, it worried me, it ate at my leather heart. The more I tried to deny my dependence on her, the deeper I sank. Can ya believe it? I was deep in love. Sick. I didn’t even think I believed in love yet somehow I had found myself in the undertow.

I didn’t know whether or not she was going to be at the airport when we arrived. Part of me was wishing for it, the other part was nervous. Why would I be jittery after all we’d been through? It didn’t make any sense. And my stomach was still aching from the fruit I had eaten earlier while we were flying over the Midwest. I worried myself into oblivion- to the point where I was worrying about how my worry would make my ulcer worse. Yea. It was shitty.

The plane finally engulfed the runway like a hawk circling it’s prey. Quivering, my eyes searched the greeting area. I shuffled off the plane and spotted Keke (silently thanking my girlfriend’s intuition, my dog would be the perfect tension releaser). Avery was being dragged along by my pup, and despite the humor of it all, her lack of strength taunted me.

She looked lovely though. That sick part of me couldn’t help but love the way her waifish arms reached for me. I kept gawking at her collarbones and was intrigued by the way her blonde locks were matted, forming dreads around her definied jawline. Sometimes I was still amazed at what a dominance my anorexia held over me. The influence only made me appreciate her appearance more, however, and when she kissed my lips I shivered. Something rised in my hormones that had been absent for most of the past few years. I instantly forgot my resentment.

“Hey doll.” I whispered. She had me entranced. But that dead sparkle in her eye shriveled my joy.

*

I gazed at Trinity’s plane as it finally landed, dumbfounded that I was still alive. It arrived over an hour late and Keke was driving me batty. The rain had just cleared and my head was starting to do the same. With Tryn back, I’d be okay. I knew he was gonna leave me again too soon, but I was trying to ward off that thought. I had to play this just right or he was going to end up hating me. Terror was working it’s way through my veins, I just couldn’t lose him. I’d die. I knew it.

I loved him so much that day. I could tell he was sleepy; he had that rumpled look. Thin too. It took gargantuan amounts of willpower to repress my feeling of salvation when he approached me. This is Trinity, what was I thinking? He’s always made me hurt, he’d always been my equal. But in that instant he became my angel. My way out.

Out of what? my mind pondered. He was my protector, my guardian and he came back for me. I had to play it cool, though.

I hugged him and planted a kiss on his sweet lips. Keke’s jealousy was showing, she kept getting us tangled up in her leash. I swear, for 30 seconds we were a normal in-love couple. We weren’t fighting each other, we weren’t fighting our needs, we weren’t trying to outdo each other. We were just happy. Anyone standing there would have probably thought we were the picture perfect example of love (maybe with the exception of our unmistakeable wasted bodies). It was like a movie, the cheesey kind with the happy endings.

Why couldn’t it stay perfect? I kept thinking. It was like a vivid dream that ends too soon. Everything ends too soon with us.

“Hey doll” Trinity whispered to me. He had me entranced. But I think he saw that dead part of me when he looked into my eyes. He could see the me that had already given up. He could see the me that was dependant on him for survival. And as much as he loved the power, he wouldn’t take the responsibility. I knew it was over.

I just had to decide how to end it.

-—---—---—---—---—---—---—-—-

We sat at the kitchen table and cut up an apple. Eight pieces. Four each, topped with two giant glasses of water. Some things never change.

Tryn spoke first. “So, you want to talk about what the hell you’re doing to yourself, Ava?” he didn’t sound as pissed as I had expected.

I looked at him, empty-eyed, heartbroken and scared to death. I said, “Tryn, I’m sorry to make you come all the way back here, I’m sorry for ruining your schedule and your plans. I’m sorry that I’m so weak without out, but most of all I’m sorry for myself.” I stared at the initials I had carved into our table. I couldn’t bring myself to look into his eyes. I could see he had given up. It killed me. My stomach was whirling and my mind was playing tricks on me. I started to ponder if even he was against me. I knew the rest of the world was.

He replied, “You didn’t ruin anything, just talk to me, just tell me why you want to hurt yourself, please. You’re so thin and it hasn’t even been a week. Have you eaten anything since I left? And why did you cut yourself? Please talk to me, love, I’m very stressed bout this.” I could hear the genuine concern in his lost voice; and it brought the tears. They stumbled down my cheeks like a river of dreams.

Quivering, I tried to explain without sounding so dependent, “I just miss you. I feel so alone and without you beside me at night time, I go insane. I try to sleep and I can’t. I try to write and I can’t. All I can do is hurt myself. I feel so bad because I’m so mean to you. And I can’t help it. It just happens. And I’m terrified…” I drifted, unable to complete my thoughts.

I was drowning in my tears when his hand touched my lips. I could see that he loved me. It stung my soul. He needed me as much as I need him, yet all I could do was be a self-absorbed bitch and hurt him. It was making me even more self-destructive. I didn’t deserve this beautiful fucking angel. He should not have to put up with my senselessness. God, I loved him.

I loved him too much.

-—---—---—---—---—---—---—-

He cancelled the rest of the tour. For me. It came as an enormous shock to everyone, especially the both of us. Travis and his girl, Jade went back to Texas. Their presence hadn’t helped enough, we were too selfish. I was too selfish, and I only wanted Tryn in my world.

This is the part of the story when things start to become complicated. I bet you’re wondering why I don’t see the previous adventures as complicated, and if I was a normal girl maybe I would have. But, I’m far from your average emotionally balanced person and if you can’t see it by now, so is my boyfriend. This is the part where I could no longer hide behind my baggage, where I couldn’t hide behind ritual and misdirected anger. This is when I learned to accept my feelings, my dependency, and my addiction- to Trinity.

I figured the appropriate place for us to begin our journey of healing was the beach- that same beach where he shared with me the statement, “Honestly, I don’t fucking remember how to live”. Those words had triggered the beginning of our breakdown. When he had muttered that sentence we dove headfirst into a sea of acceptance. The waters were tainted though, blackened by the selfishness, immaturity, and destructive behaviours that we both revolved around. So, here we are, back at the beach, letting our thoughts drift and trying to understand each other, and what we wanted from each other.

“I do love you, ya know?” he proclaimed.

Of course I knew, why would he ask such a thing? Wait- maybe I didn’t know. If I had really known that he loved me, would we even be in this situation? My mind was racing with a million ideas, possibilities, and outcomes. I was so confused and frustrated; I couldn’t figure out how to answer him- whether or not to tell the truth. The truth was what we needed but I didn’t know how to tell the truth. I’d been lying to myself and him so long because I was mortified by my feelings.

“No. I don’t know. And that isn’t your fault.” I replied. Wow. I can’t believe how easy it was.

He had expected me to say that, I could see it in his eyes. I thought it would piss me off because every other time he had figured me out, it pissed me off. But this time, I was relieved. I didn’t have to explain everything, I didn’t have to verbally address all my mental and emotional turmoil because he knew me. And he understood. I knew that he understood before he even said a word, but he spoke although he didn’t have to.

“I do love you and sometimes I don’t think you love me- it’s hard for me to feel sometimes. But ya know what I mean, babydoll, cause you do the same thing, and that’s why I can’t give up on us…” he wasn’t finished but there was a long pause.

And finally, “We’ll get through this, doll.”

The despair in his eyes was fading, and I saw the hope. I prayed that he saw the same in me. We were both notorious for numbing ourselves-we could both do it at will, without any contributing factors. We didn’t do that then. We were both there, completely. Our hearts were there together, our minds were there together, and our souls had entwined. For the first time in months, I felt safe.

*

I stumbled into our bedroom with a new perspective about my relationship with Avery. After we spent the evening at the beach and focused on the perfection in the dreary sunset, we trampled through the sand, listened to the hum of the subway, and practically fell into bed when we arrived home. I hadn’t been so content in months. And as I picked at a fabric of string dangling from my favorite t-shirt, I accepted that sometimes things unravel no matter how hard we try. But I wasn’t ready to give up, we had just begun.

The sunshine dribbled in through our stain-glassed windows and the light tore me from restless sleep. I just looked at her for a few minutes. Peering at her sun scorched skin, the bones protruding out as if to show off her prize of ultimate self-loathing, I couldn’t keep myself from crying. I hate to show emotion, but I couldn’t prevent it and nobody was watching anyway. I was sick with anxiety and a deep aspiration for a loving, steady relationship.

We were both so damned fucked up.

I wandered into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of my tattered reflection. I didn’t look so healthy myself. I drew the lukewarm bathwater and soaked in the tub, allowing my fears and insecurities to drown.

Emerging into the hallway, I bumped headfirst into Benji. What the hell is he doin’ here, I pondered. I looked up to make eye contact with the intention of asking just that, but he spoke before I had the chance.

“Listen Tryn, I know you’re goin through a lot of shit right now, but did you ever stop to think about how this is affecting Allen and me?” he spoke too silently.

Shit. Of course I didn’t. But I didn’t plan to admit that.

“Uh, well, Ben, it’s just that, ya know how it goes, I mean, Allen understands, why don’t you just relax?” I didn’t sound too sure of myself.

He flashed me a hurt look. “Trinity, we need this tour, I know the album is doin’ splendid and all but I miss the road, don’t you miss it?”

I didn’t. Not one single bit. But I felt obligated not to let down my friends…

“Benji, get Al to come over, I’m gonna go wake Avery, and we’ll all have a discussion. I guess we should make some plans about this tour…and possibly about the future of the band,” I reluctantly announced.

Ben stomped off hurriedly, into the kitchen, and took the tele outta it’s cradle. Guilt singed me and I almost didn’t believe myself when I realized just what I had to say at the meeting. They would hate me.

-—---—---—---—---—-

Ah, the old battleground- the kitchen table- it all begins and ends here in some ways. That’s pretty immature, but it’s reality. Anyway, back to the point.

We gathered around the table, the four of us, seated in a manner that resembled a face off. Benji and Allen together on one side, Ava and me on the other. Nobody had really spoken yet, we just sort of gave each other blank looks and stared at our feet. Where did I begin? How was I to explain to my best friends, my bandmates, that I didn’t want to ever go on tour again? I knew they couldn’t understand.

“Well, guys, I guess I owe you some type of explanation and maybe some insight into my current thoughts…” I started. They just stared. And waited. So, I went on.

“I can’t do it anymore, and…” Ben cut me off then, “What the hell can’t you do anymore, Trinity???” he was screaming. I felt so shitty, but they deserved to know what I was thinking. I couldn’t avoid this forever.

“I love you guys, I love making music, but I can’t tour anytime soon, and maybe never again.” I pleaded.

Allen’s eyes were welling up. He pushed his chair out and turned away, “I understand,” he muttered. Then walked out the door. Benji started off after him, then decided it would be better to yell at me.

“Tryn, how can you do this to us? We can’t be a band and never go on tour, what the hell is wrong with your brain? Did you forget that we’re all in this band; it isn’t just about you. And her.” He shot Avery a dirty look. He seemed to be getting better at his dirty looks, I almost laughed out loud, then thought better of it. This was no time to poke fun. I was being a royal ass, and I knew it.

“I know Benji, but it’s even more selfish if I keep dragging this out…I’ve hated to tour for years now, it’s just not my thing, and I’m sorry that you have to suffer cuz of my decisions, but my mind is made up, man.” I was silently praying for sympathy. Surprsingly, I got it. He stormed out of the house.

I glanced to Avery, and she was in a stupor. I hadn’t told her about what I had to say, and I think she was shocked although ecstatic. She threw her twiggy arms around me and started to apologize, over and over and over. I just held her and told her that it was nobody’s fault but my own.

I had made my decision. I loved her more than anything on earth. I’m saddened that I hurt Benji and Allen the way I did, but they were alright eventually. We never exactly became friends again, and I know they resent me, hell I would resent me, but they don’t hate me. And sometimes I think they really may have understood.

I had what I wanted, what I needed, and I would make the best of it.

**

Our view

Tryn is here with me as I type this out, and he’s grinning because he knows I can’t tell a story without a happy ending, no matter how sad or painful the experience has been. This has been hard, and I have left you with only bits and pieces of what happened, what is still happening, and what will eventually happen- the main reason for this is because I honestly don’t know. I can’t recall everything, I have lost many of the bad memories, and there were a few occassions where I turned my feelings off; time unaccounted for, time that was probably full of screaming, crying and growing. But who wants to sit through all that bullshit anyway? You get the point and I continue my healing process through written expression, so it’s overall a good thing.

We still don’t eat like we should ,but fortunately, no matter how much our disease tries to break us, we together are stronger than a disease. Most days I know that I control it, it doesn’t control me and usually it’s the same with Tryn. I don’t want to ramble about that struggle too much, because it is one we haven’t won, but neither of us want to beat it. That sounds idiotic to you, I know, but if you had ever been through this, you might understand. It becomes a part of you, sometimes it becomes you, and you lose yourself.

I have Tryn though. He’s smiling again; but I see the hurt. He knows I’m right. We are strong together, and we aren’t miserable like we use to be. We’ve grown closer, we’ve grown together, but ultimately we probably won’t beat the will of the disease. It keeps us unhealthy, and it keeps us preoccupied. It might kill one of us, or both of us, but I don’t think so. Our bond to each other is deeper than our need to self-destruct. At least I hope so. I said I wouldn’t ramble about it, but I am. Anorexia can do that. It takes over a part of you, you get lost in the behaviours and thoughts. It consumes your life and sometimes, it can even take your life.

Why don’t we get help? We don’t want it. We were strong enough to stop blaming each other for everything, and we were strong enough to allow ourselves to be in love the way we should be, but we aren’t strong enough to break free of it. Tryn is my obsession, and I am his. But, self-destruction doesn’t let go so easily. And neither do we. We’re all in this together. It’s sad, it’s sick, but it’s the truth. And in the end, the truth is the only thing that can keep us alive.

Trinity tells me that he thinks he’s alive again. I feel the same. Neither of us are as lost or hopeless as we once were. But we’re alone.

The band stopped touring for good. We don’t exactly have any friends either.

But he makes me so happy. And he says I make him happy. We waste away and spend our days cuddling, writing, and smothering Keke with attention. Not living, but alive.  

I can’t stop my story, it just wants to keep going and I’m getting repetitive. So I’ll end it here. I love you, Trinity, and I thank you for letting me exploit our private life by sharing it with whoever is reading.

We’ll make it, love.

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