I don't much care for rainy days.
They remind me of that day…
Unfortunately, here it rains all the time.
July Fourth is a day of major celebration for him. 'Happy Birthday". Every year I tell myself that I'll be able to say it this year. By the end of the day I'm telling myself that I'll be able to say it next year instead. The year I can say it never comes, no matter how much time goes by, I can never find the words. I can't even bring myself to speak to him. Maybe it's to make myself feel better… but at the end of the day, I always feel worse.
This year, it rained that day, just as it did that day in early July, countless years ago. I'd like to say 'countless', anyways. I know exactly how many years, days it's been since that day. I sometimes wonder if it's the same for him. Probably not.
By early morning, I was all set to go. Alfred has a nasty habit of inviting me to every single one of his birthday parties. I used to think it was just to rub it in. I'm not sure whether I want to be right or wrong. It would be just like Alfred to rub it in, regardless of how sore a subject. In fact, he seemed to thrive off that sort of thing. I must have thought of at least one hundred different things I could say to him, too many different ways I could just… greet him.
I never left the house.
My hand froze on the doorknob, and I couldn't make it outside. I loosened my tie and took a couple steps back, then a few more. As my heel touched the couch, I sank to the ground, my knees to my chest. The feeling in my chest was awful. A sense of dread built in my stomach, matched only by the all too familiar despair.
No matter how much I wanted to, how hard I tried to get myself out the door, I couldn't. It wasn't going to happen. This time my excuse would be that it was too miserable a day to go out anywhere. I doubted that anybody believed me, or even feel it was necessary to ask me. It was mostly my own ego that made me think anyone even cared.
I just couldn't stand to see him. Not today, when he was not only celebrating a birthday, but the day he left me behind. To have seen him happy would have been too unbearable. To have seen him happy, and celebrating this…I wouldn't be able to stand it.
I would spend the day alone, wallowing in self pity.
Or so I thought.
Just past noon, there was a knock on the door. I peeked up as the knocking persisted, but decided before long that I wasn't opening the door that day. My forehead lowered to my knees again, and I squeezed my eyes shut, silently willing the person to leave. It wasn't just Alfred I didn't want to deal with. It was everyone, and anyone that might remind me of him.