I Can't Live Without You
TW: themes of self harm
Fiona sat alone in her bedroom, kneeling on the ground beside her bed. Her throat ached like she'd swallowed a sword and her eyes burned with hot, salty tears. She swallowed heavily, feeling the thick lump and it hurt her throat even more. Fiona looked around her quaint loft bedroom, a few broken picture frames remained scattered from the break-in two days ago. She hadn't been able to bring herself to clean it up and frankly, she was too emotionally exhausted and just plain lazy to fix what her attacker had done. Over on her dresser lay a shattered framed photo of herself and Imogen—her most beloved picture of them. Fiona pulled herself off the ground, feeling her bones ache and weaken. She went over to the picture, brushed off the broken glass, and removed it from the frame. More tears struck her face as she admired the photo. She saw herself with an arm around her girlfriend's waist, a big toothy smile, and Imogen stood pressed snugly against her, lips caressing Fiona's cheek.
Fiona found herself smiling through the tears as she rubbed her thumb over the picture on Imogen's face. That girl seemed to be the only good thing in her life. Everything around her was crumbling in at such ramped state, Fiona physically couldn't bare the pain of her world falling apart. With her mom still under investigation by the IRS, living alone, the horror of her loft getting broken into, and the uncertainty of her future after graduation, she wanted to escape her reality. But the only way she knew how was to drink, a lot. She'd been sober for almost a full year and had come so far since her second admission into rehab, drinking again would set her so far back from what she'd overcome. God, a nice bottle of champagne sounded good. The bubbly sensation and the cold, refreshing liquid could easily soothe her aching throat and numb her suffocating brain. But there wasn't a bottle in sight and going out and getting one scared her, especially after the trauma she'd experienced with the intruder.
Fiona squeezed her eyes tight, trapping some tears and tasting the liquid when it slipped past her lips. Her legs gave out and she was down to her knees again, bringing the photo down with her as her cries and sobs echoed throughout the empty loft. Her body ached, but her mind did more. Lately, Fiona's thoughts had been attacking the better part of her brain with never-ending anxiety and negative thoughts that were eating her away. She was afraid of someone breaking in and attacking her more violently. She was confused about her mother getting into legal trouble with their money because she assumed the Coyne family took good care of their finances. She was unsure of what to do after graduation—what she'd study at university, if she'd even go to university, or if she would just travel the world.
She tried picturing Imogen's real face in her mind, visioning her dark brown eyes, her infectious laugh, and her beautiful smile. She was scared to be apart. Would they follow each other to the same university? Would Imogen want to travel the world with her? What about Imogen's father, who'd been declining at a heartbreaking rate? If they did go to separate schools, would they be in entirely different countries, or only a couple of hours away? She didn't want to be in a long-distance relationship with Imogen, especially not when they were at their healthiest. Being apart, in different cities, or countries could ruin the balance and steadiness they'd found together.
"I can't do this anymore," Fiona screamed at the top of her lungs, straining her throat even more. She crumpled the photo into a ball, chucking it across the room. She crawled across the floor, trying to look for something to take her pain away—a pill, a drink, anything, but her bedroom had been completely clean, sober if you will. As her hands dragged the floor, her hand accidentally struck a stray shard of glass, puncturing her palm.
"Shit, ow!" Fiona screeched. She brought her palm to her lips, sucking the blood.
Fiona's eyes leaked buckets again and she flopped against the floor, laying on her side in the middle of her room. She cried until her eyeballs puffed and stung and her throat closed and she couldn't bare to even swallow. She let her hand bleed and blood dripped down her arm. She realized she was still holding a shard of glass in her other hand so she opened her eyes and stared at it before bringing it up to her wrist.
"Fiones!" That cheerful voice sang as the loft door swung open.
Crap, she forgot that she'd given Imogen a key after the break in so she could check on her whenever.
"Fiones?" Imogen called, entering the loft with her purse. She set the bag and keys down, searching the condo for her older girlfriend. She scanned the living room for her until her eyes landed on a stiff, crumpled body in the bedroom.
Imogen ran in, thrusting to the floor down to her knees, a gnarly carpet burn in the process.
"Fiona? What's wrong?" She comforted with a soft, motherly tone.
Imogen leaned over Fiona's body, brushing away her hair to see the tear-stained cheeks and red puffy eyes on her girlfriend. She stroked Fiona's cheek with her thumb, but it wasn't until she spotted Fiona's arm with a streak of blood that had her fight or flight kick in.
"Oh my god!" Imogen grabbed Fiona's bloody arm. "What did you do?!"
Fiona dropped the glass and sobbed into her hands that now covered her face. Imogen took a shaky breath, eyes strained with shock and concern. She kept a watch on the blood and she calmed when she noticed the bleeding slow down, but not Fiona's cries. Imogen nestled up to the older girl, pressing her chest against her back, and holding Fiona in her arms. She allowed her to cry it out, with no questions until she stopped. Imogen stroked her curly hair and placed a soft kiss on Fiona's neck.
"What happened Fiona?" Imogen spoke softly, almost in a whisper as they lay together on the carpet.
"Don't worry, I didn't do it," Fiona said through a shaky breath and a horse throat. She clung to Imogen's arms that wrapped around her waist. "I thought about it, but I didn't."
Imogen fought tears, taking hold of her breath. "Do what?"
"Hurt myself. On purpose." Fiona sniffed and the tears began to flow again and so did Imogen's.
"How come? What happened?" Imogen's breath shook as she spoke and her mind went to dark, dark places. She envisioned things she never thought in million years would ever happen—things she didn't want to see. All of a sudden, Fiona seemed gone, like she didn't know her anymore. Imogen squeezed her tighter as if that would snap Fiona out of her mindset. She wanted to be in her place instead, snatch all of her girlfriend's bad feelings and take it upon herself.
"I'm scared," Fiona admitted. "For my life, for my family…for my future, and for losing you."
"Losing me?" Imogen questioned staring at her girlfriend's back. The grip she had on Fiona loosened and she distanced herself a bit but remained close. "Fiona, you're not going to lose me."
"How do you know?"
"Because I'm not. I've been by your side through everything and I haven't left yet, right?"
"I know. I just…everything seems to be falling apart and I'm afraid someone's going to attack me any second and I'm scared of the future."
"Fiones, I'm scared of the future too. A lot." Imogen removed her arms from Fiona's waist, hoping she'd turn around and face her.
"I have the urge to drink again," Fiona confessed. "And I hate myself for it and I just want my thoughts to go away."
Imogen opened her mouth to speak, but she stopped when she couldn't formulate a proper sentence. She didn't know how to respond. She was never informed about how Fiona's friends or family should respond during the peak of her addiction—they didn't know each other back then.
"I can't do this anymore," Fiona added, her voice coated with desperation and defeat which shattered Imogen's heart in a million pieces.
"It'll be alright Fiona," Imogen assured.
"I just want to go away…my feelings to go away."
Imogen let a tear slide down her cheek, she bit her lip and clung back onto her girlfriend.
"Please," Imogen spoke into her neck, arms wrapped around Fiona's waist. She held onto her as if holding her as tight as possible would miraculously squeeze away any and all negative feelings.
"I love you Fiona and I can't live without you."
There were five full minutes of silence.
Fiona shifted, finally turning around to face Imogen. She placed her hands under her cheek that was squished against the carpet; her glassy eyes looking into Imogen's.
"I didn't mean to scare you, Immy. I'm sorry."
"Well you did…you are." Imogen looked down.
"I'm sorry," Fiona said. "My brain is on fire right now."
Imogen met her eyes. "I understand."
Fiona breathed in and out slowly. Her eyes blazed with uncertainty. "Could you just lay with me for a while?"
Imogen nodded urgently. "I won't leave your side."
Imogen shifted back into Fiona's embrace, placing her head against Fiona's chest.
She stayed with her for as long as she needed.