Letting Go

Dillan's POV

      For the first time is a few weeks, my head didn't feel like it's splitting open when I woke up. Instead, it's just a nice dull head bar that I can deal with.

      Last night was one of my good nights, something I haven't had in a while. Once I had gotten home, I had showered and let myself play my guitar for a while while I sipped on a few beard and downed a couple of shots. It was actually a nice night.

       Now as I stand in my room after I shower, I rummage through my clothes that I actually washed last night, and throw on a fresh uniform. Though most people wouldn't think that small things like that are that important, for someone like me, who struggles with depression anxiety and PTSD, this are some huge mile stones I'm hitting. And I must say, it feels good after so long.

      I'm smiling to myself a I get dressed, slipping on my shoes as I sit in the bed.

     As I leave my room and walk towards the front of my apartment, I try to think of what I can do tonight to celebrate the baby steps I took between yesterday and today. Maybe I can rent a movie to order my favorite take out. Nothing big, just something to remind myself that any steps are good as long as they're in the right direction.

       I grab myself a banana for later, and make myself some toast with butter and jelly smeared along the top. I stand up with a cup of juice in my hand as I enjoy my breakfast and I can't deny that I feel like today will be a very good day.

     Well, as good as a day that it can be for me.

      Once the sandwich is scarfed down and the cup is empty and in the sink, I grab my banana and everything else I need before I'm making my way out of the door.

      I make sure my apartment is secure as I begin walking down the stairs, waving to the doorman, that I'm sure  doesn't get paid enough to deal with all the bullshit and people that comes with working this job. As soon as I hit the street, and the cool early morning wind is brushing against my hair, I'm making my wya to work.

     For once I don't have any music in, and I just let myself relax and I walk down the sidewalk, in no rush this morning since I woke up on time without a hangover.

       No one has to tell me what drinking does to your life, I've seen it, I'm living it, I know. I watched first hand as drinking took away one of the most important things ever in my life three years ago. And funnily enough, the only thing that can help me forget that night is the same thing that forced me here: drinking.

       The endless cycle of irony that the world has knows no bounds.

       You might catch me black out drunk in the middle of my apartment, crying on the floor as I struggle to breath, but one thing you will never do, is catch me driving or behind the wheel.

     Sober or not.

      I shake my head of the direction my thoughts are going, knowing that if I let myself fall into that line of thinking, today won't be as much of a good day as I was hoping.

     I stop at a crosswalk and wait for the signal to turn to the walking man before I begin walking across. But when I'm halfway to the other side, I see a vehicle approaching fast, obviously not seeing that their light it red. I try to speed up my walking to get out of their way, but I get a sudden chilling realization that it's too late.

     Intense myself up as I try to get there in my final seconds, my breath starting to become unsteady as flashbacks begin to play over in my mind. Just as I think I'm about to get hit, the car screeches to a halt a couple inches from me.

      Once I realize I'm still alive, I fall to my knees as I begin to hyperventilate. My brain is swirling with memories while trying to circus on whats going on around me and I'm faced with a sense of overstimulation as I try to get myself up. I hear the car door beside me get opened, but I don't pay it any attention as I try to focus on my breathing and bringing my mind back to the present.

      Trying not to look at the faint pale scars that run up and down on my arms.

       The person from the car walks over to me unhurriedly before crouching down, playing a hand in my back that makes me jump and then melt at the feeling.

       "Hey. I didn't see you. Are you alright?" The man says and I freeze as I recognize the voice. I turn my head and see that it is in fact the man form the gym yesterday, Kane. I glare at him as I pull my body away form his touch roughly even if it does result on me in my ass.

      Cars are pulling up behind him and start honking in annoyance at us in the middle of the road. I shakily get on my hands and knees again as I push up onto my wobbling feet, pulling away in disgust from Kane's outstretched hand that is apparently there to help. "Of course it was you." I say, raising my lip in resent me. Before he can say anything, I'm turning away to slowly finish my walk to work on shaking knees.

      When I'm almost to the other side of the cross walk, I hear Kane say something over the noise of the waking city. "At least let me drive you!"

       I ignore his yell as I continue on my way, way slower than before as I make my way to the gym. The cars behind him must finally get on his nerves, because I hear him get into his car at last and drive off.

      When he passes me on the other side of the road, he slows down a little but I keep my head facing forward as I continue on.

       I've done this shit for years by myself. I don't need some cocky, inconsiderate asshole trying to come and play super man.

~~~~~~~~~~~
I've decided to do four chapters in all for Letting Go and once it's done, I'm going to eat and then go back to sleep. I will wake up around twelve if I'm not up already and then I'll starting writing Pushed Aside. I hope you're excited for today. I am!

Thought?

Comments?

QOTD: What are your thoughts on werewolf books that romanticize rape and toxic relationship?