Title: Hey, Are You Lonely?
Author: mellifluous cloud
Disclaimer: I don't own So Weird. This is the much-delayed sequel to my story XOXO and Don't Tell a Soul. Please read it if you haven't already. Otherwise, enjoy!
I always thought he'd come back. I guess I just assumed that that's how things worked. And that we were meant to be, so he had to come back… he just had to. Because he completed me, and because we were destined to be together, and because… because, goddamnit, I deserved it. I deserved him, and I deserved to love and be loved. I deserved to be happy.
And yet, here I was. God, am I pathetic. I've become a shell of my former being, worn out and chiseled down to the core. There is nothing left. Every day I live for the memories, the daydreams, the reminders of the fantasy world in which I lived for a brief, fleeting moment of time. Every night I go to sleep so that for a few hours, I can disappear, escape, and time can pass with a blink of an eye. And I can say: I did it. I made it through another day. How many are left?
I don't want to be this way. I wish he knew how hard I tried to get over him, and oh, the numerous attempts I made to move on, and to forget Carey Bell. Carey Bell, who broke my heart. Who showered me with love and affection, who consoled me in a time when it seemed the world was out to get me, who showed me that I too could be vibrant and exciting, because he gave me reason… only to take it all away, to disappear with barely any notice, to shatter my dreams and remind me that I could never have what I wanted. I was so foolish.
And now four years have passed. Jack, Fi, and Annie are gone. Clu is gone. Carey has been gone. Irene has not said more than three words to me in the past few years—she might as well be gone. Ned is still around, but for some reason, I rarely see him. It's just me, in this huge house which has never felt like a home, in boring old Hope Springs, Colorado.
And I'm gone, too. I am. This isn't life. Waking up every morning, reading the paper, watching TV, wishing the phone would ring, getting the mail, writing lyrics to songs that I sing to myself in a voice barely above a whisper… this isn't life. I'm a complete mess. My meals generally consist of eating ice cream with a spoon straight from the tub while passively watching whatever crap was on TV, stains covering the coffee table. The only reason I don't weigh 300 pounds is due to the fact that I have been blessed with an extremely fast metabolism… oh, and I smoke about a pack a day. The house reeks. I really don't care.
I tried starting up my music career again—a few times, actually, but all my attempts failed miserably. It seems no one is interested in signing and promoting a washed-up, middle-aged, barely-known singer. And to think, I used to consider myself a rock star. And to think… I took so much for granted. I threw everything away, just so I could have a few private moments of happiness with Carey Bell… for a few weeks. And then he left.
At the time, I was miserable and heartbroken. I pined for him for months… a year, maybe two. I still loved him.
But now, all I feel is resent. I resent him for ruining my life. For giving me so much and then taking it all away. I wish "we" never happened. He destroyed me. Maybe it's unfair to blame him, but I can't help it now. After four years of feeling nothing but misery, I just want my life back. I just want to be Molly Phillips again. I want to be happy.
And I always thought he'd come back. I'm not sure how I'd react if he did.