What happened next was completely reckless and cruel and I almost didn't live to regret it. If you had asked me afterward why I did it (and I had been capable of answering) I would have given you one sweet, short answer. I was tired.
Matt and I were in the middle of a screaming match and I was deftly arguing him into a frenzy. I turned his every word on him, sending wave after wave of seemingly logical madness to batter him senseless. He couldn't win. I wouldn't let him, even if it meant completely destroying us. Poison still lingered in our veins, making us more volatile than we might have otherwise been.
He finally gave up fighting me. I had made it perfectly clear where the problem was, anyway.
"You're making me INSANE!" He roared. I sneered and flung a few more accusations.
His hands were clutching his head and I eased up just a little, satisfied that he was at last beginning to understand the frustration that too often had me in its grip.
He was ranting. "What?? What?? What do you want me to do, huh? I can't win! It's pointless! What!! Ah!"
It was too much noise. I screamed nonsense syllables to drown him out.
"How about this? How about this?" He cried. He was waving around a bottle of pills. His pills for depression or anxiety or some other such affliction.
"You're not going to take those." I said with disgust. I hated him. I didn't care if he took them.
He cursed me. Why don’t I just leave? I asked myself. The answer annoyed me. I loved him. I was crying my eyes out. I paced frantically until I heard the rattle of his pills.
He was dumping them all in his mouth. "I'm leaving you. There are you happy? I'm leaving you..." he was muttering.
He slumped against the wall and slid to the ground, letting his eyes roll back in his head. I felt the disgust return as pills rolled down his chest and came to rest on his stomach. A few of them were sticking to his lips, just hanging there.
They wont do any good hanging off your lips, I thought.
I don't know what I was really thinking. I didn't think he'd die, but he had inspired me. I hadn’t thought of that option before. It had never occurred to me that I could really take matters into my own hands and leave. I pounced on my purse and pulled out my pillbox. I had a colorful assortment of pills. I never threw them away, even when they didn't work and the doctor prescribed something else to make me feel better.
I looked over at Matt. He was still lying there with his eyes rolled back in his head and the pills had fallen from his lips to join the others on his belly.
That's not how you do it. I'm going to go now. I thought. I went to the kitchen, got myself a glass of water and then made myself comfortable on our bed.
THIS is how you say good bye, you idiot.
Not for a moment did I think I shouldn't do it. All my stinking life had led up to that moment and I was tired and emptied out and I wanted to leave. If I had stopped to think about the finalty of death or the sorrow my passing would cause my father, my sisters, and my mother, I would have had second thoughts.
There was nothing. Just my idiot boyfriend with pills on top of his belly instead of inside of it and our dank little apartment.
I took the pills. Methodically, I took them one after the other, allowing one gulp of water for each pill. When the pillbox was empty I sat back against the wall and waited patiently (a true sign of my indifference) for sleep to take me.
I don't think I ever really thought of it as death. It was sleep. That's what I wanted. How long that sleep lasted was not something of concern to me at the time. I felt of twinge of mad joy as a heavy feeling settled on me. I started sinking. For a very brief moment something like panic nibbled at my consciousness but then I sank deeper and the world went black.
"Lilly. Lilly Get up!!
I tried to force my eyes to open. They were too heavy. I thought that if I used my fingers I might be able to pry them open, but my arms wouldn't move. Too heavy.
"LILLY! GET UP NOW." It was Matt.
But Matt was getting angry. I could hear it in his voice. I had to get up.
With great effort I managed to peel my eyes open and I saw his face. It was full of fury. I thought he might hit me if I didn't listen to him. I tried hard to sit up, struggling and breathing heavily.
"Get up!" He repeated, but his voice had softened a little, though it was no less urgent. I was grateful for the change, as subtle as it was, and I tried harder to sit up. I was almost sitting up when my arms gave out and I collapsed back down onto my side.
I'm sorry. Can't. So sorry, I have to go to sleep now. I thought as hard as I could, hoping he could hear me somehow. Sleep...
More time passed.
Remembering. I have to be my own therapist, I guess.