Artificial Love (The Goodbye Trilogy #2) (17 page)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Johnny

(Several Months Later)

“Hey man!” I smiled at Dex as we started to put together our equipment for a show in Austin.

I won’t lie. Smiling and making small talk with my bandmates was still work for me. Days were long and nights were hell since I lost Emmy. But I had to make changes or I would lose a whole lot more, maybe even my life. Dex and Ethan threatened that they were actively looking at new guitarists for Love Sick Ponies when I showed up to band practices so fucking wrecked, I couldn’t even stand up.

After a small battle with the bottle the very day they told me I was replaceable, I got my shit together. My probation duties to the State of Massachusetts were somehow taken care of. I didn’t question who helped me. Instead, I voluntarily started seeing a new therapist via Skype. No one knew about her but me. She let me cry about Emily and the fact that life was just plain unfair. Like Dex, I replaced drinking with writing. I wrote about loving and losing. I wrote about loving and not being in control over feelings, both her feelings, if she had any, and my own. Writing became my number one priority. I was really passionate and the words always kept flowing.

“Sleep good last night?” Dex asked. I noticed his eyes flicker over to James, one of our new roadies and I smiled devilishly at him.

“Sleep or good last night?” I asked, giggling at my blatant friend.

“Shut up, douche face,” Dex snapped out, a fresh flush crawling up his face.

Times had changed and for the better. I had never felt more close to my bandmates than I did at this point in our journey.

Unlike yesteryears, after our backstage meet and greet, the three of us didn’t party like we used to. We had other commitments that sent us to bed pretty early. Ethan and Dex asked me to do more with community outreach and I was all about keeping busy. We met kids in hospitals and several wish foundations found us people that needed a little light in their day. The one thing I did every day was write a letter to Emily. I never sent them. When I asked Ethan for her address, he said she wasn’t returning his calls up until a few weeks back when she cut the line all together.

Every song I wrote was for Emily. The latest song, ‘4115 – The Nice Girl’ was starting to get attention at our shows and every time I played it, I prayed that Emily was in the audience. I smiled and I sung it with everything I had in me. The chorus was my favorite.

NICE Four You

One over you

One of you

Five times I fell into love.

Would she remember we made love five times when she heard the song?

It was a disappointment every night when she didn’t come see me back stage, when she didn’t make any contact to see me, and when after six months, I realized I only fought for her through my music and through my dreams.

One dream actually.

I was in Boston for a gig and I saw her sitting on a park bench, reading a book. It felt so real that when I got closer to the bench, my heart beat went crazy. Looking at Emily’s face after all this time was a slap in the face. I couldn’t help but glance away; my short staccato breaths were the only reminders that I remained standing. I fisted my hands in my hair and shook my head.

I glanced around and back at her.
Fucking smack
. I winced.

I needed to say something. She was here to see me so it was my duty to break the ice. I couldn’t find any words that resembled reality. All I had were mocking niceties.

“You look good!” or “Wow, look at you!” and cringing, I thought about saying, “It’s so nice to see you.”

All inconsiderate, belligerent, and dangerous lies.

I released my hair, turned my body so it was clear it was all hers, and kept my eyes trained on her beautiful face. I offered up my only truth. Honestly was my
one
saving grace.

“I’ve missed you,” I admitted with a recognizable tremor in my voice.

It was now her turn to look away from our exchange and as she did, I took in all the damage done to her. My least offensive mantra, “If she hadn’t met me…” started rolling through my thoughts. Embarrassed and hurt, I let the first tear fall from my eye.

The dream always ended with her acting like she didn’t know who I was and her politely asking me to please leave her alone.

The first few times I had the dream, I was heartbroken by it. I was a ghost to her now.  There was no greater pain knowing someone I love and think about so much doesn’t even know I exist.  When I worked through that hurt with my writing, I relished in the dream for the good parts – those few moments when I saw her sitting on the bench in a pretty yellow sundress, her blond hair waving with the wind.

Love Sick Ponies were a band again, climbing to the top. We were all in a good place to focus on our music and not our personal lives.  I moved in with Ethan after the mess in Pennsylvania. I kept my apartment but it was good to have someone there – in case I needed to talk. We became real close and worked on music more than not. I can’t speak for the others but my hand and I were on great terms physically. I didn’t want any other woman but Emily. I knew she was the one that got away and maybe one day I would open my heart again for another but for now – well, everything below my shoulders was on lock down to the outside world.

Besides the little time I had spent with my Emily, I was the happiest I’d ever been in my life and it was because of Emily. I wrote, I sang, I played hard, I gave to those less fortunate than us, and I dreamed of her every night.

Oh, and I prayed. I prayed, even though I didn’t get to have her, that she was happy. I prayed that she was finding ways to smile every day. I prayed that she would find a man one day that would love her for everything she was and wasn’t. I couldn’t even get jealous over that imaginary guy in my head because I knew he was making her live and love again.

After everything that woman had gone through in her life to make sure everyone else was happy, it was my greatest pleasure to pray that she was living life for herself. I was one lucky son of a bitch to get a chance to love her the times that I had. She taught me that cherishing every moment in life was what living was all about and I hoped one day she would see that I had listened.

Two women broke my heart. The first, Julia, left me believing that everyone in the world was out to get me. I became paranoid and obsessed. Although I loved her in some way, it wasn’t the right way. I faltered at being a person, sometimes so argumentative and repulsive that I thought I deserved to live in a box in some alley.

The second woman, Emily, left me and it was just as crippling. With her loss, I didn’t get paranoid or obsessed. I got a life. I started thinking what I wanted to do with my days. I even started living my days like she was walking next to me so she could see the good I was doing. Emily was never supposed to change who she was when she came to New York. In fact, once again, she was the reason so many others altered their way of thinking.
Selfless
.
Nice
. Those aren’t two qualities made in hell and I was lucky enough to learn them from her. Everything good I do in my life – every smile, every hug, and every thank you – will always be for and because of a woman who told me to get the hell out of her life.

For Emily and everything I wished we were and the future I wanted so badly. For the image of her smile that effortlessly blurred on the outsides because I wasn’t permitted to see it anymore. For the shattered clarity I continue to live with because I couldn’t make any woman happy. For everything I lost that it hurt to swallow the pain most days, I continued to rock on.

EPILOGUE

EMILY

I sat stiffly on the cold, steel examination table with a captivated audience. I guessed having support here for this momentous occasion was a good thing but I wanted to be alone with the results. I wanted to see before anyone else. Too bad it was too late to change my mind.

 “So let’s take these off… real nice and slow,” Dr. McPherson said as she started on the bandages closest to my nose.

I sat real still, my mother’s hand securely in mine.

“Don’t be nervous, honey. It will look great. I think they really did it this time.”

I wanted to nod at her but I was trying to stay still like a statue so the bandages wouldn’t do anything to the new skin.

This last surgery they took a piece of skin from the top of my thigh. They used it to help with the keloid scaring across my face. Hopefully this would remove the crevices and create a smoother look.

I was amazed by what the prior surgery had done so I was only too excited to see how they could have improved with this one.

“It doesn’t matter. You will look just as beautiful as the day I met you,” he said, with a slight chuckle in his tone.

“When I had red hair?” I laughed. “Ethan, you’re such a dope.”

“That’s why you love me,” he answered.

The final bandages came off and I took the mirror from the doctor’s assistant.

My gasp wasn’t even the loudest. My mother started to cry, Ethan went to rub her back, and I stared at a face that was bruised, battered, and fucking ugly.

“It takes a while to heal. Just wait, okay? I can already see the lines are going to heal very nicely,” the doctor said, a hand strong on my shoulder.

I nodded. I suppose it was true. Besides, no matter what, I still had the ridiculous patch to cover the eye I had come to accept was lost forever.

A few minutes passed and no one knew what to say. I looked over at Ethan and gave him a tight smile. He crossed over to me in two steps.

“God, Em. You know you will heal. I know it will be really good. Just know that.” Ethan placed his hand into mine and I looked up at him with the biggest smile. People would stop and stare. I was used to that. It was unbelievable how people were drawn to ugly.

“People will just stare at me like a freak but whatever. Thank you so much for being here, Ethan. I know the tour is really busy and…”

Ethan cut me off. “I wanted to be here. It’s weirdly convenient that my mother is just in the next building over. So I’m killing two birds with one visit.”

I winked at him with my good eye, knowing that visiting me was far superior than visiting his mother. She was inpatient at the psychiatric ward and could only see her on certain days and no longer than fifteen or twenty minutes at a time. I think spending time with me made the trip to Boston tolerable.

“We’re going to let the stitches heal and then I want to see you back here in two weeks,” the doctor said. She gave me a hug and I could tell both her and her assistant were trying to ward off tears. Who could blame them? The transformation was obvious when at every appointment, my before, during, and after pictures were placed on a white board. In five months, I had come a long way. I was the happiest I had been in as long as I could remember.

I had only one person to thank for that. My heart squeezed as I placed my hand on my stomach. Johnny.

“Do you think you will ever talk to him again?” Ethan asked when he noticed I had become introspective.

I shook my head. “It wasn’t in the cards for us. He belongs on stage, not having to deal with these appointments and divorce proceedings with Michael. I belong in a nice, warm house with cooking shows and bed times.”

Ethan grinned at me. “You, my friend, are the most selfless person I have ever met.”

I smiled at him mischievously.

How very little did he know.

I quickly grazed my fingers over my stomach again and grinned inwardly.

I was probably the most selfish person that ever walked this Earth. I had changed so much and so rapidly since I’d left Pennsylvania for home. Even though I looked like a sliced up vegetable to the outside world, which was really painful both mentally and physically, my outlook on life was looking pretty nice.

I closed my eyes, thought of Johnny’s striking face in those moments at the hospital when he told me he loved me, and sent up a quick thank you to him, wherever he was. I’d never forget the wonderful gift he gave me during one of the most confusing and reckless times in my life.

The End.

For now…

Book Three “Elastic Hope” is the final installment in The Good Bye Trilogy.

Please be sure to look for it in late 2015 or early 2016.

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