“We’ve got this, Molloy,” I tried to reassure her. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Just… just stay with me, Joe,” she squeezed out in a small voice. “Like you are right now. This version of you? I need this guy to stay.”
“I’m going nowhere.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Yeah, I knew what she meant.
“There’s too much at stake now, and I can’t do this without you,” she admitted, nuzzling my shoulder affectionately. “Don’t lose yourself again, Joe.”
Shoulders weighing heavily with shame, I dropped my head to rest against hers. “I won’t.”
“I need you to be done with it,” she pushed. “Like the way you were after Christmas. That determination and willpower? I need you to find it again, Joe. I need that guy.”
“I know,” I ground out, feeling like a piece of shit for putting her in a position where she needed to have this kind of conversation with me. “I’ll sort that, too, Molloy.”
“By stopping,” she added. “Sort it by stopping right now, Joe. Not tomorrow or next week. Right now.”
“You know I love you, right?” I heard myself say, knowing that it would never be enough, but knowing that it was all I had. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you in this life, Molloy. Nothing.”
“Then be done with the drugs and the bullshit,” she pleaded. “Do that for me.”
“I will.”
“You’re not supposed to say you will,” she whispered sadly. “You’re supposed to say that you already are.”
“I’ll fix it,” I heard myself offer up weakly, trying to give this girl everything that she needed from me, but it felt like I was a pouring from an empty cup. I could taste the lie on my tongue, and, apparently, so could she. “I’ll sort it.”
“I want to believe you,” Molloy replied, shifting closer. “I want to believe you so bad.”
Me too.
Feeling too fucking exposed, I untangled myself from her and stood up.
“Listen.” Reaching into the pocket of my school trousers, I withdrew a packet of cigarettes and quickly sparked one up. “I don’t know how this is going to go.” Backing up a few feet to keep the smoke away from her, I inhaled a deep drag before letting it out. “I don’t have a crystal ball to look into the future with. I wish that I could tell you that everything will be perfect from here on out, but we both know that’d be me spurting bullshit.”
“Feel free to spurt all the bullshit you can think up,” she grumbled, dropping a chip back in the bag, and wiping her hand on her thigh. “I could use a little fabrication right now.”
Couldn’t we both?
“The truth is that I’m half scared to death here, Molloy.”
“Not helping.”
“I’m not scared of stepping up, Molloy. I’m scared of it not being enough,” I forced myself to continue – to admit. “I’m scared of letting you down.”
Emotion flickered in her eyes. “Joe.”
I shook my head and turned away, staring out at the empty pitch, needing a minute to gather my thoughts before I could continue.
“Being there for you isn’t the problem.” It’s being good enough for you that I’m struggling with. “I just…I wish I wasn’t who I am.” Letting my head fall back, I took another drag and stared up at the darkening sky. “I wish I was someone else for you.” I exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Someone better.”
“I don’t.” Footsteps closed in on me, and I felt her arms wrap around my waist. “I wouldn’t want you to be anyone other than who you are right now,” she said, pressing her cheek to my back. “I just want you healthy.”
“I am trying, Aoif,” I told her, dropping a hand to cover hers. “I’ve been trying.”
“I know, Joe,” she soothed, nuzzling my back with her cheek. “And I love you for it.”
“I love you, too.” Heart gunning in my chest, I took one final drag of my smoke before tossing the butt away and turning to face her. “I do, Aoif.” I blew out a shaky breath, hands moving to settle on her hips. “I fucking love the bones of ya.”
Sighing heavily, she draped her arms around my neck and smiled sadly. “But?”
“Sometimes I can’t control it,” I admitted brokenly. “It’s like something goes off in my head, and I check out. I stop thinking. I stop feeling. I stop fucking remembering all of the reasons I have to keep going and start thinking about all of the reasons why I should give up.”
“Joe.”
“I’m scared to be in my own head, Molloy,” I croaked out, feeling a shiver rack through my body. “I’m fucking terrified of my inability to control my own actions, and what’s worse is knowing that, at any point, I could end up going too far and driving you away. I could push away the one person, the only fucking person, who has even given a shit about me.” I exhaled a ragged breath, feeling torn and exposed to this girl. “I don’t want to go back to how it was – to how I was. I know what’s at stake. I see you; I fucking see you standing right here in front of me, and my heart is screaming at me to cop the hell on and get my shit together. And I want to. I want to so fucking bad, but it’s like this…” Frustrated, I reached up and pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to get the words out, to make it all make sense to her, which was impossible considering I didn’t understand it myself. Still, I tried, knowing that she deserved nothing less. “It’s like I have this whole other person in my head, a whole other voice, even though I know it’s me. It’s my voice, but it’s a destructive fucking voice that rears its head every time I’m stressed.”
“Which is constantly,” she filled in knowingly.
I heaved out a breath and nodded. “The worse shit gets in my life, the louder the voice gets, louder and louder and louder, until it’s literally screaming in my head, and I can’t focus on anything other than doing the one thing that I know that will quieten it down.”
“Self-medicating.” She swallowed deeply. “Losing yourself.”
“You asked me why I fucked up and caved after three months? It’s because I couldn’t take it anymore.” I shrugged helplessly. “And now there’s a baby coming, and I have so much to lose that I’m fucking terrified of blowing it again. I know that I need to get my shit together, and I will. But that’s the problem right there, because I can tell you that I’m going to be good, and I’ll mean it when I say it, but I don’t trust myself, Aoif.” My shoulders slumped and I exhaled a pained breath. “I just don’t.”
She didn’t shout or berate me.
She didn’t slap my face and run away, either.
Instead, she stood there, eyes locked on mine, as she absorbed my painful truth.
“Right now,” she finally said. “What are your thoughts right now?”
“My thoughts?”
“Your thoughts.”
“You,” I admitted. “You and the baby.”