Free Love, Always by Yessi Smith Page B

one. She went to therapists and took medication. I thought she was a whack job and was embarrassed to be related to her. She was also the nice one, the forgiving one, the one who never let me down no matter how many times I let her down. I guarantee you she’d never leave me in here alone. She’d visit me. Hell, she’d probably admit herself just to be with me.”
    “What happened to her?” I ask but am afraid to hear the answer.
    “She killed herself. She took all her medications at once. She left me a note, telling me she loved me and that there was nothing I could have done to have helped her. You know, on the day of her death, she was worried I’d blame myself. Who does that?”
    “She loved you,” I offered, knowing it’s not enough.
    “But am I worthy of that kind of love?”
    The answer is yes, we all are, but I doubt Hayley actually expects or wants an answer. With tears in her eyes, she turns around so she is facing away from me, so I scoot closer to her and put my arms around her waist. My heart hurts for her, for her loss, for the guilt she carries inside of her.
    I wonder if that’s why she chose to speak to me on my first day here. Did she see my pain and guilt? Did she see we were kindred spirits? Did she think we could help one another move on? It doesn’t matter. We’re here, and from this moment we are in this struggle together.
    Even though I know she doesn’t want to hear it, I tell her anyway. Because it’s true. “We’re all worthy of that type of love,” I whisper.
     
     

Adam
    Dee. My thoughts always go back to her. They usually also start with her. She encompasses most of my thoughts, so much so that I’m happy for this tour. I’m glad to be away from her so that I can break away from her. It’s painful to see her, to touch her, without really being seen or touched by her.
    Her thoughts still surround Josh. It’s been almost a year since Josh’s death and her pain is still as much a part of her as it was the days following his death. Maybe more so.
    So, I am using this time to regroup and refocus my energies on my band and the goals Josh and I once set.
    I owe it to him to reach all of his goals.

    Ten years old
     
    My heart slams hard and fast, wanting to escape the confines of my chest, so I hold my chest and breathe. My knees are weak and I know they’ll start to tremble any minute. I look back at my friend and smile. He looks so sure of himself, he knows he killed it.
    I did pretty well too. I saw Mom in the audience and my heart swelled with pride when she stood up after my piano recital and cheered louder than anyone else there.
    I fumbled a few of my notes, but no one seemed to notice. Honestly, I’m just glad I didn’t vomit on stage.
    “You were awesome out there.” Josh puts his hand on my shoulder and I beam back at him.
    Josh is more than just awesome. He plays the piano, sure, but he’s a beast on the drums. He’s also been teaching me how to play guitar after school so we can start our own band. All we need is a singer. I haven’t told him I can sing yet, because what if I really can’t? Mom likes my voice, but she’s my mom; she’s supposed to like my voice.
    Mom hugs me and Josh when she sees us. “You boys did amazing.”
    I nod, a bit embarrassed, because Josh’s parents aren’t here, and I wonder if he thinks I’m a dork because my mom goes to my practices and shows, but he smiles at her before giving her a big hug that she quickly returns.
    “What do you think?” she asks over Josh’s head. “Pizza or burgers?”
    “Burgers!” Josh and I respond at the same time.
    “Your mom’s pretty great,” Josh says, punching my arm as we follow her to her car.
    He’s right; she is pretty great. She fought hard and sometimes I think she’s won, but other times I find her in Tommy’s room, holding what would have been his blanket to her chest as she sings softly to a son she never had.

I lay in my bed with my laptop as I answer the hundreds of