I was to get my wisdom teeth out only a short weeks away. I remember feeling the nerves coming back and fast. I was out of my sport and had no where for my nerves to go. She promised to help me through this. She knows what this means to me. She’ll be there for me. Of course she will. Weeks went by and we danced around the subject. Finally she stopped bringing it up and there was only days left. “I have to get my wisdom teeth out.” I said leaving something in my voice, some type of pleading for something more. Help. She pointed to her calender. “I won’t forget.”
I held onto my phone tight. Worried. Waiting for a text, waiting for a call. I waited an entire day, a night, and the morning drive. I cried silently. Help. So this is what going through life alone feels. It’s scary. It’s hard. It hurts. Really really bad.
I cried. When they threw the mask on my face. I cried. When I woke up in the “recovery room”. I cried. On the car ride home. I cried. When I woke up every few minutes. I cried the whole day.
Even now it’s a sore. It hurts that– that’s what alone feels like. It hurts because I was pushed to face a fear. It hurt so bad. I cried the days afterword. I tried to piece together my day. To find the hour or hours I lost. I tried so hard to remember, to get my control back.
I guess that’s what let down feels like. Even now I am still close with my high school coach but we don’t bring up the day she happened to forget. We don’t bring up the shower she dragged me out of. Or the day she hugged me when I was so nervous. Or the small subtleties she knew about.
That memory would be nothing with out Steve. It would be non-existant. Instead it still fucking hurts.