“It sucks,” I said. “I know that. But you’re not alone. You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, just like you were there for me.” I remembered the day I froze in the quad, the way he knew exactly what to say and what to do, even though he didn’t know me at all. And now no one knew me except for him. “We’ll do this together.”
“Together.” He snorted. “Right. And maybe you’ll finally fall deeply in love with me and make all my dreams come true. We’ll live happily ever after. As long as they can rig me up with some kind of hydraulic system. Not like I ever got to do it the normal way, so I guess I won’t even notice the difference.”
“Auden, don’t—”
“Don’t what? Tell you all about how my penis may get ‘moderate sensation’ back, and if I respond well to the electrical-impulse therapy—which, let me tell you, my penis and I are really looking forward to—I might, might be able to get the fucking thing up, up for some fucking, I mean, but—”
“Please don’t.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, am I grossing you out with all the medical details? Or is it the thought of having sex with me that disgusts you?”
He wanted me to fight with him. I wasn’t going to do it. Not now. Not here. “I thought my life was over when I woke up like this,” I said. “But you’re the one who told me that I could handle it. That I could start fresh.”
“This is different.”
“I know, but—”
“No!” The beeping started again. “You don’t know. This isn’t what you went through. This isn’t what you understand. This is me, my life. This is the way it’s going to be forever: shit.” He closed his eyes, sucking in heavy gulps of air.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, silently pleading with him to stay calm. “Just tell me what you want from me. What can I do?”
“You can get out.”
I stood up. “You’re right. You should try to sleep. I’ll come back later.”
“No. You should get out and not come back. Ever.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This is your fault,” he said in a low voice. “What happened… It’s your fault.”
“It was an accident. You were just trying to… save me.” When I didn’t need saving.
“Seems like I’ve been doing that a lot,” he said. “You do something stupid, you do something reckless, and I fix it. You treat me like crap, and I save you again. Because I’m stupid. Was stupid.”
I closed my eyes. “You’re my best friend.”
He went on like he hadn’t heard. Or didn’t want to. “You’re probably happy, aren’t you? Why should anyone else get to be healthy and normal if you’ve got to walk around like some kind of mechanical freak, right?”
He’s just trying to hurt me, I told myself. And I had to let him do it if that’s what he needed. I had to do whatever he needed.
This is not my fault.
“Maybe this was the plan all along. Is that it? Is that why you kept dragging me along with you, making me take all those stupid risks? You were trying to get me killed—Excuse me, I mean, get me broken?”
“Of course not! This was an accident.”
“This was inevitable. And if you didn’t see that, you’re as stupid as I was.”
“Auden, come on. I… I love you.”
“But not in that way, right?”
I would have happily lied if I’d thought there was even a chance he would believe me. “No. But—”
“But I’m supposed to grovel at your feet, thankful for whatever I can get from you, right? Sorry, not in the mood today. I’m not feeling too well.”
“Tell me how to make this better. Please.”
“I already did: Get out. The only reason I’m talking to you now is that I wanted you to hear it from me. What you did. Now you know. So we’re done.”
I didn’t move.
“Obviously I can’t force you,” he said. “I’m just going to close my eyes and pretend you’re not here. And hopefully when I open them, you won’t be. You want to do something for me? Do that. Help me pretend I still have some fucking control over something.”
He closed his eyes.
I left.
But I didn’t leave the hospital. Because he was right: He didn’t have control over anything anymore. Including me.
I went back to the waiting room. I watched his father return. I watched the doctors and nurses pass through on the way from one crisis to another.
I waited.
I waited until late that night, after his father had fallen asleep and the few remaining doctors and nurses were too busy watching the clock to watch me. And once outside his doorway, I waited again, watching, making sure Auden was asleep.
Then I crept inside. I lifted the chair and placed it at the foot of his bed where, even if he woke up, he wouldn’t be able to see me. He obviously wouldn’t hear me breathing. And he wouldn’t feel my hands resting on the lumpy blanket, cradling his useless feet.
20. BETTER OFF
He’s not dead, I told myself, standing outside the hospital, wondering what to do next. That’s what counts. He won’t die, not for a long time—and not because of this.
It should have felt like good news.
He doesn’t want to die, I told myself. He may have said it. But only because he didn’t yet understand that some things are bearable, even when you’re sure that they’re not.
I understand, I told myself. I can help him.
But the second part of that was a lie. And maybe he was right, and the first part was too.
I told myself: This is not your fault.
I told myself the anger would pass, and he would forgive.
Denial bleeds into anger, I told myself. Then would come bargaining and depression, and then, finally, always, acceptance. He would grieve the loss of the life he had wanted. He would accept my help.
I told myself I would find a way to get by without his.
I lied.
It was a cold day. It was always a cold day. And, as always, it didn’t matter to me.
Who was I supposed to go to with this? Auden was the person I went to. Auden was the one who understood. He was supposed to be the solution, not the problem. So who was I supposed to talk to about losing the only person I could talk to? Who was supposed to cure my loneliness if I was alone?
I was alone.
And maybe it was my fault.
Or maybe not, I thought suddenly. Auden would never have been hurt if I hadn’t gone to the waterfall, but I would never have gone to the waterfall if Jude hadn’t shown me the way. If he hadn’t practically dared me to jump, turned it into some huge symbolic statement of my identity instead of what it was: a dumb stunt. Crazy, like Auden had said. Not that I had bothered to listen.
I need to see you, now, I texted Jude, and he sent me an address without asking why. Maybe he just assumed I’d always needed him and was only now realizing it. He was just enough of an ass to think that way.
This is not my fault, I told myself again, and there was more force behind it this time. It’s his.