God, I wished.
I opened a set of doors and she was there, on her phone. Probably trying to read a book. She was by herself, wearing tight sweatpants and a hoodie. Not an ounce of make-up and hair tied up in a messy bun.
‘Hey,’ I said.
She lifted her eyes up from her phone and gave me a look. She was surprised to see me, although in a somewhat angry way.
‘Where have you been?’
‘I am so sorry.’
‘Leo, I honestly can’t deal with you right now.’
The way she said my name sounded like a blade. A scalpel thrown and shoved into my chest.
‘I was out of town, and I couldn’t be on the phone, but I came as soon as I could.’
‘Really?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘So, where did you go?’ she said, while putting her phone down and standing up in front of me with crossed arms.
‘It’s a long story and I don’t think this is the place to—’
‘I have been here all night. You’d be surprised by how much time I have to listen to your bullshit excuses.’
‘I was away, with a guy.’
‘A guy?’
‘Yeah,’ I said, while trying to look anywhere but her eyes. Her sad, angry, giant eyes. ‘I have been really stupid.’
‘So, this is what you’ve been up to? Fucking off away with ‘guys’? Is that why you’ve been so odd for the last couple of months?’
‘What do you mean ‘odd’?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. The fact you never reply to calls or texts anymore, or the fact you were fucked on drugs on New Year’s Eve and passed out?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Who even are these guys?’
‘I don’t really want to have this conversation here.’
‘Then leave. I don’t need you. I can’t fix you right now,’ she said with near crying eyes.
‘I don’t need fixing. I am here for you.’
‘You’re here for me? What are you exactly doing for me? Am I wrong to think you’re here only because you realised how shit you’ve been? Has your ‘hyper’ mode run out?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Leo, have you been taking your meds?’
‘I…’
I wasn’t.
‘Is it possible you’ve stopped all of a sudden, let’s say, four months ago? And you’ve been going through yet another long episode of mania and doing all kinds of stupid irresponsible shit?’
‘Gaslighting? Seriously?’
‘Am I wrong?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. Suddenly I realised what was really happening within me.
‘I can’t believe you.’
‘Jesus Christ, Sara. Maybe, just maybe I have been busy trying to make money to be able to attend your ridiculous events that cost a fucking fortune!’
‘What are you even talking about?’
‘I had to have sex for money, so that I could pay for the fucking Ibiza trip, or get to fucking Greece for your goddamn wedding!’
‘That’s what you did?! What the hell, Leo? Are you out of your mind? Who even were these people?’
I was getting angry. I was tired, and I was upset. I could barely control my words.
‘Fucking rich men who had money to throw away. Kind of like you and everyone fucking around me. You have no idea of the things I had to do. No fucking clue.’
‘Are you blaming me for your poor money management and the fact that your mind goes to ‘prostitute’ before doing, I don’t know, a fucking normal weekend job? Or, since you’ve been telling me about it for years, a fucking writing job?’
‘I am not like you. I don’t have opportunities falling onto my doorstep.’
‘Oh, fuck off. You haven’t written in nearly a decade. Don’t give me that shit. You stopped taking your meds, because you most likely enjoyed what you were doing and now it has finally bitten you in the ass!’
‘You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re so wrapped up in your own world that you can’t even imagine or relate to how someone who wasn’t born with a mother fucking silver spoon in their mouth feels on a daily basis. You go around parading all the free things you get through your job and all the shit you buy with your parents’ money and all your friends do the fucking same.’
‘You’re walking on mighty thin ice.’
‘I feel so stupid. I did all this for you. I should have known.’
‘You didn’t do this for me. You did it because it felt good. That’s why you haven’t gone to therapy. You were ‘fixed,’ but you weren’t. You were just replacing therapy with sex and alcohol. As you always fucking do.’
‘I did it so I could catch up with you all! I don’t know how many times I have to repeat I cannot afford to live your fucking lifestyle.’
‘Then grow a pair and speak up.’ Her voice was getting higher and higher. ‘I am so fucking tired of picking you up. You don’t care about anyone other than yourself. All you’ve done this past year is blame Jake and money for every single problem you’ve had. You had a part in that breakup. You had a part in choosing the stupidest way for you to make money and you had a fucking part when you decided to forgo therapy. Go home, Leo. I don’t want to see you.’
‘Fine. You won’t see me at your hen do either.’
‘Good fucking riddance. I’ll get your money back. I wouldn’t want you to go in the streets and jump into a stranger’s car to make up the loss.’
‘Keep it,’ I said, while leaving.
‘Don’t come to the wedding either while you’re at it!’ she shouted.
I took a deep breath and kept walking.
Tears were streaming down my face.
CHAPTER 22
£3233.78
When bad things happened in my life, they happened all at once. Like an avalanche of steaming shit covering my whole body. I felt like I was standing still, and the whole world around me was running at the speed of light. I wasn’t sure what to do with my life. I had lost everything.
For once in my existence, I had cash at my disposal in my bank account and it didn’t make me happy. I didn’t know what to do with it. It was stained. I lost myself while trying to earn it, and for what? Being shouted at? Being given HIV? Being left alone?
I was sitting at work. I wasn’t in the managers’ office. I was sitting in a private room in Human Resources. I thought people had noticed that I wasn’t feeling well, and maybe they were taking steps to support me in the struggle. Katherine walked in, along with an HR representative, ready to take notes. This wasn’t a support meeting. This was trouble.
I didn’t care anymore.
‘Hello, Leo. Thanks for coming in,’ Paula from HR said.
Katherine wasn’t even looking at me. I was also staring at nothing.
‘This is only a preliminary informal meeting,’ she added.
I had no idea where this was going. It wasn’t informal. She was writing notes. What had happened?
‘Could you retell the events that happened on the 31st of December?’ Katherine asked.