Thursday, June 1, 2017

Angry All The Time Chapter 26




From walking home and talking loads
To seeing shows in evening clothes with you
From nervous touch and getting drunk
To staying up and waking up with you

But now we're slipping at the edge
Holding something we don't need
All this delusion in our heads
Is gonna bring us to our knees

From throwing clothes across the floor
To teeth and claws and slamming doors at you
If this is all we're living for
Why are we doing it anymore?

I used to recognize myself
It's funny how reflections change
When we're becoming something else
I think it's time to walk away

Trying to fit your hand inside of mine
When we know it just don't belong
There's no force on earth
Could make it feel right, no
Trying to push this problem up the hill
When it's just too heavy to hold
Think now's the time to let it slide

So come on, let it go
Just let it be

Why don't you be you
And I'll be me
Everything that's broke
Leave it to the breeze
Let the ashes fall
Forget about me

~James Bay, Let It Go


May 2011

I had failed.

I thought pushing and prodding, if done with love, was the answer. I invited our friends over, and Bella flew into a rage, shouting that nobody understood. She threw things, broke things.

Shattered my heart.

Rose was the only one to stick, to speak to her quietly. Bella had a conversation with her, but quickly resumed hiding in her shell. Rosalie told me to give Bella some time, said she was going through the grief process. Told me to be more understanding.

How the fuck more understanding was I expected to be?

My anger and resentment was turned in on myself. I couldn't fix her, love her enough, wake her up from her nightmare. I was no good for her. She was unhappy with me, couldn't stand the sight of me. She would avert her eyes when I came into the room. She got up more often, changed the sheets, showered. Ate. But refused to look me in the eyes.

I did this to her, by pushing her into having sex with me on our anniversary. It was just that I was so lonely. I missed the comfort of my wife's arms; I yearned to feel her skin against mine, to join together in the way that we used to when it meant we were showing our love for one another.

Now, she hated the sight of me. I avoided my own eyes in the mirror, so I couldn't really blame her. All along, I'd thought we were overcoming everything thrown our way; I'd thought that we were stronger together.

Turns out I was the problem, just like in my previous relationship. What did I expect when I was such an idiot, knowing it was just the same as when Tanya cheated on me. I was to blame for all of it. I was inadequate, like she'd always said. I'd thought I could be better, try harder for Bella. I thought we were doing just that, but life kept getting in the way. Her parents' deaths were really the catalyst to show her where I was going wrong. I screwed everything up, until she couldn't take it anymore, and retreated inside her own mind to avoid me.

I was making her miserable. I was making myself miserable. What the hell were we doing? What was I thinking?

I spent a lot of time talking to Emmett. Rose insisted I was being an idiot, that the problem wasn't me. I disagreed. Emmett didn't think I was the problem, just that Bella and I weren't happy, and I was spending all of my energy trying to fix something that was too broken to be fixed.

So what was the answer?

How could I make it right? How could I make Bella happy again, when she was miserable to be around me? I went back to the office, or sometimes just sat on a park bench and thought of my life. My marriage. I went to the library and talked to Carmen, who told me to wish Bella the best, and that she'd love to see her healthy and back to volunteering. I spoke to Alice and Jasper, and my parents. Everybody told me it wasn't my fault. But no one could tell me whose fault it actually was, or where to go from here. Did I stick with the decision I'd made two years ago, just because my vows said to, or did I leave Bella the room she needed to be happy?

I knew the answer, but I couldn't find it in myself to admit it out loud. I was afraid of hurting Bella more, of making things worse, of ruining my life more than I already had.

I spoke to my dad, who told me I was more than welcome to stay with them for a bit. I thought that was a good idea, though I'd need to be closer to the city if I was thinking long term.

Oh my God, was I thinking long term?

Was I actually thinking to myself that I was going to leave my wife, dissolve our marriage, after only two years?

Was I admitting to failure so quickly?

But I was a failure. I'd failed to follow up on my end of the vows. Bella wasn't happy, or well taken care of, and I was only making her life worse by sticking around.

But was there another solution? Rose told me to get my head out of my ass, and stick it out. Was that just in reaction to her having hated Tanya so much? She didn't realize that I really was that horrible, that I had taken advantage of my wife in a depressed state. She was being a loyal friend, but that didn't make her right.


I was failing at my marriage, therefore failing at my life. I needed to disentangle Bella from my mistakes and give her the chance to start over, as if I'd never come along and propositioned her that day on the pier. I needed to move on so Bella could move on.

As I made my decision, I felt a terrible pain gripping my chest. It was so strong, my knees buckled and I went down. I clutched at my shirt over my heart, gasping in air and trying to see past the blurriness. I found my cell phone in my pocket and dialed 911.

The paramedics found me doubled over in the foyer of my office building, the receptionist and several employees hovering, offering me water and to help me lie down. The people and sounds were confusing, the constriction overtaking all else. I knew when they loaded me up, could feel the blood pressure cuff and needles in my arm. I heard someone speaking to me, telling me what they were doing. I couldn't seem to quite make out their words; it was as if their speech was slurred.

When I'd been at the hospital for a few minutes, or hell, maybe hours, I heard my father's voice.

"Edward!" There was so much terror in the frantic way he said my name.

"Dad? Why are you here?" I couldn't really see him, could only turn my head in the direction of his voice.

"I'm consulting on a case. Imagine my shock when I heard a nurse say your name. Are you alright? What happened?" His hands touched me, roaming, looking for answers.

"I really don't know. . .Everything is cloudy, muffled. There's a pain. . ." I pressed my hand to my chest again.

"Jesus, you're not having a heart attack, are you?" I heard rustling noises. "Hmm, no, your readout doesn't suggest that." While Carlisle hummed and muttered under his breath, the nurse came back in and told me to take some pills.

"What are those?" I heard Carlisle bark.

"Uh-um, they-they're, ah, nitroglycerin tabs?" I tried to focus on her form, and she came more clearly into view.

"That's not necessary, look at his ECG. There's no evidence of myocardial infarction, so nitro would not be indicated." I heard paper rattling, and Carlisle came into sharper focus.

"I'm following the doctor's orders, Mr. . ." She was intimidated, but trying not to show it.

"Dr. Cullen." I could hear the impatience in his voice.

"Oh. If you want to speak to Dr. Gerandy, you can take this up with him."

"I would be glad to. I'll track him down myself." Now he sounded dismissive. I heard the door snick closed, and then it was silent except for the beeping of the machine.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Edward."

"If it's not a heart attack, why am I in so much pain?" To my own ears, I sounded like a little boy.

He sighed, then I heard a scraping sound. He touched my forehead with his hand. "I think you had a panic attack. You've been under so much stress. . ."

I suddenly understood. I made a monumental decision, and then had a panic attack. It felt so much like my heart was imploding in my chest.

"You need to take it easy. I'll look for the doctor so you don't wind up with meds you don't need." The scraping noise again, then, surprisingly, his lips on my head.

I swallowed. "Thanks, Dad," I whispered, tears leaking out from the corners of my eyes and down into my ears.

The nurse came in after a while, and I found that my vision was improved. She handed me some papers and I looked at them as she went about pulling the IV needle out of my arm.

10 Ways To Reduce Stress. I laughed to myself, thinking that I would not find don't leave your wife after failing miserably in your marriage anywhere on that sheet. Once I was cleared to leave, I found my father, who told me to go home and take it easy. He also told me to call him when I needed him.

I knew I would be calling him very soon.




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