The Broken Mirror

What A Wonderful World

Kline shakes me to wake me up. I open one eye. I forgot about whatever it was she wanted to show me at midnight. Trying to catch up on the sleep I missed the night before but looks like I am about to miss more. I climb out of bed and follow her. She slowly opens the door to our room, and we creep out.

I do everything she does, although it is easier for her since she cannot be taller than five feet. I duck when she ducks. I crawl when she crawls. Eventually, finding ourselves bent underneath the nurses' station, so that we aren't seen. We begin to crawl until we are out of sight of the only nurse on staff currently.

We quietly laugh as we get to our feet. I follow her down a hallway that looks like a good place to shank someone. Maybe I made a mistake following her. "Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see," she replies. Okay, that does not help the trust factor. We reach these double doors that say laundry. She opens the door and I find other patients in there hanging out. It's almost like the scene in Dirty Dancing when the staff party is revealed, but instead of partying, everyone seems to be making out. We walk in and the doors close behind us.

It looks like an average laundry room. White and gray walls with massive washer machines and driers lined up in rows. There are tables to fold clothes and chairs to sit in.

A mountain of a man walks over to us and hugs little Kline. She almost disappears in his arms. "Who's this?" Pointing an eyebrow at me.

"New roommate, Alexander. This is Roberts," Kline introduces us. His eyes travel the length of my body.

"I wish I got pretty roommates. Mines smell like feet," he tells her. I smile at his compliment. He winks at me. He's Samoan, and everything amazing that comes with that. Beautiful tan skin and dark gorgeous hair, that even women would be envious of. He is covered in tattoos. His eyes are dark, and he has a great smile.

"Don't hit on my roommate," Kline says to him. Smacking him in his belly. He laughs at her.

"Why? You got first dibs?" He asks her.

"I'm not exactly her type. Am I?" She asks me. I was not really following.

"Type?" I answer confused. I was more focused on the semi-orgy going on in here.

"Which way do you swing?" She asks me.

"Oh, yeah! I'm straight. I have kissed a few girls, had a threesome, but I was high," answering her question. I am completely confused by what I see here. "Aren't we not supposed to be getting into relationships?" They laugh at my question.

"Not supposed to, yes. Do we listen?" Roberts says to me.

"With that, if you'll excuse me," Kline leaves me with Roberts. She finds a pretty blonde girl and they start making out. Wow. Brought me in here, and now I've been left with this incredibly hot guy whose been drooling over me since I've walked in. Long explanation of the situation, but my brain is working on overtime. The real reason is nerves. What am I supposed to say to this man?

"Poison?" He asks pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Do you all call it that?" I respond.

"Does it not destroy your life?" Answering my question with a question, after I answered him with a question.

"Fair point. Opioids and alcohol," I tell him.

"Same," he shows me his arm that has track marks. I touch them without thinking. This could have been me if I didn't have the money to access the drugs I wanted.

"I did uppers at first for parties, but after my accident, I got hooked to my pain meds. I would take them with whatever bottle of liquor I could get my hands on," I explain to him. "Until I overdosed and almost drowned in my bathtub."

"I'm a vet," he lifts his pants leg to expose a prosthetic leg. "Pain meds got me, too. Lost my leg in Iraq a few years ago. We had just been called home and a dirty bomb blew up our vehicle. I lost two of my men. With my leg destroyed, I managed to get my other guys to safety. Then I woke up in the infirmary."

We walk over to a table and I jump on top to sit. He rests his forearms on the table next to me. "You were able to rescue your men with your leg damaged?"

"Adrenaline. We would've all died if I hadn't pulled them to safety. They were unconscious. I got some pretty nice medals for it."

"War hero."

"Eh. Doing my job," he answers me. "I know they have that stupid rule about last names, what's your first name?"

"Siren," I tell him.

"You're not bullshitting me?" He asks. I laugh because my name typically gets reactions from people.

"I swear."

"So, your parents knew you were going to be seducing men?" He asks me. I laugh even harder.

"Are you implying something?" His eyes look to my ass and then he stands up straight. His mountainous presence towers over me. He studies my face for a second and then tucks some of my hair behind my ear.

"Definitely doing something," he replies. I look away for a second because of the heat of his gaze. It is getting hot in here.

"So, what's your name?" I ask quickly to cut the tension.

"Anthony," he rests his arms back on the table. "I shared my story. What's yours?" I begin telling him about my life. He listens and sometimes plays with my hair, but I ignore it. He's hot, but he's not Xavier, or at least that's what I keep telling myself. At this moment, I am so happy to be sober, because I would have already given into lust. That's what I feel, is pure lust. I get more than lust when I look at Xavier. "So, what's the status of you and this boyfriend?"

I smirk at him. "What's it to you?"

"You're here, he's not, although I see he left a parting gift."

"I don't think that's any of your business, Mr. Roberts," I answer grabbing my neck to hide what Xavier did to me. I have no idea why I felt the need to cover it with my hand.

"Then if I was to do this...," He slowly lowers his face towards mines. I want to give in so bad. I put my hand up to his lips and shake my head.

"How about we continue to talk, and you don't worry about who I have waiting at home for me." He gives me a devilish grin, knowing he almost had me. Seems, I am finally tired of just giving my body to anyone, too. I know it would be meaningless and that's what made me stop him.

I find out more about him. He's a tattoo artist when he's not in rehab. I find out he had been married and has one daughter with his ex-wife. They got married when he enlisted on his eighteenth birthday. She left him while he was at war. She took care of him when he came back stateside. He was only twenty when he lost his leg.

Kline grabs me and tells me it's time to back to our room to go to bed. I say goodnight to Roberts, and we sneak our way back to our room. I sleep with a good conscience that I was able to stop him from doing anything further.

I am allowed an hour of freedom in the morning. They expect you to use that time wisely, typically to go to the onsite chapel and pray. The fitness center has an area with a bar and mirrors. I walk into the room, dressed in my old dance attire. There was one song on my iPod that was not for me to listen to for songwriting purposes, but to dance. What a Wonderful World. It was a song I danced to for my first dance recital as a child.

My father loved to watch me dance. It was the only thing he never missed one. My mother did, but not him. Like I said, music was what tethered us together. I wanted so badly to be like him. Be on stage and sing. He was never a dancer. He can dance, learn basic choreography, but he was never trained like me.

I walk up to the stereo and look for the auxiliary cord to hook up my iPod. I hook it up. I hear the music begin to play and I close my eyes. I slowly begin to move to the song, trying to remember every step I learned from when I was a child. A time of innocence, when I used to think this world was wonderful.

I spin and leap across the room, losing myself to the song. I have not danced like this in two years. I learned the choreography for my birthday, but my focus had been singing. Dancing was something else. Singing had always been to entertain, and it gave me the joy to see people enjoy my singing. Dancing is something different.

I have not been able to dance sing her death. This was a time to express myself, who I was, and I guess that's why I have not been able to. What was there to express? A selfish young girl, who's lusted to feel numb, has destroyed so much of what she cared about. The girl who danced to this song is dead. I am trying to dance, again as if I am that girl. I'm not.

I dance through the song five times, but it's not the same. I stop and I take in the words of the song. This world is not wonderful. The way Armstrong describes this world, makes it sound so vibrant, so innocent. The world is gray, no matter how colorful it all is. It's gray. It is filled with darkness and that darkness swallows up the beauty he describes.

The song picks up a sixth time and I start to dance, again, this time mourning the girl I once was. The girl who believed her parents were amazing. A girl who did everything with her sister. A girl who had dreams of becoming a star, who married the love of her life, and had tons of children. I mourn the fact that I can never be that girl, again.

When the song is over and I do my final leap across the floor, I hear clapping and I open my eyes. Roberts is standing there. I run over to turn off the song. He walks in, and our eyes watch each other as he walks over to where I stand. He doesn't say a thing and he looks down at my iPod. He smirks at me.

"Did not expect to hear this, from you," he says to me. He picks up the iPod and starts looking at the songs that are on there. "Definitely not what I expected."

"What did you expect?" I ask him.

"Looked more like a Cardi B or Beyoncé type of girl," he answered. I shake my head and begin to laugh.

"I have never been a fan of what is popular on the radio," I tell him. "Old soul." He nods his head in approval. He continues to play with my music and then he lands on a song. When a Man Loves A Woman, begins to play. He holds out his hand to me. "You cannot be serious."

"Humor me," he responds. I take his hand and he twirls me. He pulls me back in and places his hand on the small of my back and we begin to dance. "How long have you been dancing?" He whispers in my ear.

"All my life. Started as a toddler," I answer. We sway together and he presses his cheek to mines and a little bit of guilt starts to build up in me. His arms feel good holding onto me as we dance. He dips me and pulls me back up and our mouths are even closer than they should be.

"Any other talents I should know about?" He asks me.

"I can sing, and I play a couple of instruments," I tell him.

"Music prodigy." I smile at him and nod. I feel him pull me closer as the song gets closer to the end. I have no idea why I'm allowing this, but it feels nice. The song ends and he lets go. "You are definitely a different breed of woman." He compliments and walks away from me.

My first week goes by quickly with an interesting routine. We wake up early to get ready for breakfast that starts at six. I am usually tired of hanging out with Kline and Roberts in the laundry room. I go to the fitness center to dance to What A Wonderful World, trying to see if that girl I once knew could be resurrected. Then it's group therapy, which I have yet to speak at.

We have arts and crafts, and then lunch. I sit with Kline, Kline's girlfriend, and Roberts at lunch. I have therapy with Dr. Amelia Bryce. Once, I have finished my session with her, I go outside for a bit and then we have dinner. Every night, at midnight, we hang out. I usually take a nap beforehand so I can hang. I have yet, to start working on music.

I lounge on the overly comfortable couch in Dr. Bryce's office. Our sessions are not too long, and she seems like a genuine person.

"You are making great progress. I want to schedule a family session soon," she informs me.

"Do we have to?" I ask her, sitting up.

"I am listening to you. Your trigger is your family. If you want to beat this, truly beat it, we must have a meeting with your family. The source of the problems is buried deep in there," she explains to me. I want to get better and not feel like I am walking on eggshells with myself. I want to feel like I can be with Xavier if that's still an option when I get out.

"I believe you truly want to recover. You want to recover for the memory of your sister and the future with your...ex? But those things will not keep you clean and sober," she tells me. Deep down there is something telling me she's right.

"Why not?" I ask her, she might be right, but I need to know why. Why can't they be my motivators?

"You need to do this for you. Not once have you mentioned yourself," she answers me. I want to laugh. For myself? Even this truly sounds right, but I am not a motivator. I would rather drown myself in liquor and cover myself in fentanyl patches. "Success will come when YOU want this more than anything." I nod my head in agreement. "See you tomorrow."

That night, Kline and I sneak into the laundry room like we do every night. She finds her girlfriend. I end up with Roberts, who I can tell is itching to do what Kline does with her girlfriend. He is easy to talk to and he makes me laugh. His soul feeling older than mines.

"She is the best part of me, my Brianna," Roberts tells me as he stares at a photo of a little girl. He showed me a picture of her. An adorable little girl who takes after him. I can tell she is tall, with long luxurious hair black hair. She has the same beautiful caramel coloring as her dad. "She wants to change the world. She thinks she can make it wonderful."

"Don't we all at that age?" I ask him. He looks up at me nodding his head. I watch as a flicker of sadness crosses his eyes as he stares at her photo.

"We sound like two jaded assholes," He answers. "What if she can?" I consider his words, not knowing how to answer. I've been a jaded asshole for a long time.

"I am a jaded asshole," I quietly say. I think about me trying to dance like I did as a child to Armstrong's song and I realize I cannot. I had a sense of wonder then. I thought I could change the world through dance and music. Instead, life has stolen any joy I once had, and music has become my escape from it. "I pray she never becomes like me."

"How do I keep her from becoming like us?" He asks me. Our eyes meet as I consider his question. I know what won't help her, him not getting clean. I think about my parents who were not there while I was growing up. How my father is there now, and a lot of the time it feels like it's a little too late. The damage has been done.

I hold his gaze. "You be there for her now. I lost my way because mines were not. Every little girl needs her father," I tell him. "I have mines now, but he was not there when it mattered. It just feels like he's trying to make up for the damage he's caused." He nods his head at me.

"I gotta get out of here," He responds.

"Then you know what to do," I tell him. He gives me a half-smile. He pushes some of my hair away from my face.

"You need to do the same," he answers while placing his forehead against mines, his hands still in my hair. I touch his hand and we hold ourselves here for a moment. He understands me. He feels the same pain and desires to just get lost as I do. Two messed up individuals, who can empathize with the ugliness of this world. We are the ugly of this world.

Each week goes by quickly. I find myself back in the fitness center every morning, not able to dance to What A Wonderful World, again since talking to Roberts. I cannot bring that little girl back. I decide to dance what my iPod, begins to play. The room feels like it is stuck in some type of sixties time loop. I dance whatever feels natural to me. Leaping or twirling until I am a sweaty mess. Eventually, I get tired of dancing.

I pretend to have a mic and stand in front of the mirror as My Girl, comes on and I begin singing. Rocking my shoulders back and forth. "I guess you'd say, what can make me feel this way," I sing. "My girl, Talking bout my girl."

"You were not joking about being able to sing," I hear Roberts say. I stop and look at him through the mirror, slightly annoyed. Is he going to keep interrupting my sessions?

"What did you expect for me to sound like?" I asked him.

"You've seen American Idol," he jokes. I begin laughing. Very true that a lot of people believe they can sing, and they sound like a frog got stuck in their throat. He walks over to me.

"What do you want this time?" I ask him. He winks at me and walks over to my iPod. He scrolls through the playlist to find whatever it was he wanted. I begin to hear the beginning of Nina Simone's song I Put A Spell on You. Now he is just causing trouble and I feel like I'm in a rip off of Dirty Dancing.

He walks over to me and takes my hand. "I enjoyed the last time we danced." Our bodies sway together, to music that sounds like it's out of a James Bond movie. I feel his hands lower themselves on my body as we slowly move together. I should make him move his hand, but I don't. Our hips press together, moving sensually to the beat of the song. He nuzzles my cheek and the desire to turn my head builds. This is lust, Siren, this is just lust, I need to tell myself.

Conflict builds within me every step we take, and I don't remove myself from the situation. I know I dumped Xavier, but deep down my heart belongs to him, even though I cannot say it. So, why am I here with this man, dancing? The feel of his hands on my body does something to me. Kindred spirits?

The song ends and we just stand there for a moment. I turn my head and I can almost feel his lips on mines. I shake my head at him. "I can't," I say in a breathy tone. He nods his head while rubbing a thumb across my bottle lip, wanting to feel it with his. I finally pull away and go to grab my iPod. We don't say anything, and I leave the room feeling horrible. This is why I cannot be with Xavier. I am sober and still f*****g it up.

I open my notepad listening to Nina Simone. She's been my whole mood since I've been here. My guitar sits next to me. Kline walks into the room and plops herself down on my bed.

"You and Roberts look like you are getting pretty cozy," she says to me. I pull out the earbud and just glare at her for a moment. She smiles. "I knew you two would."

"Was that your agenda? Hook me up with your friend?" I ask her. She shrugs her shoulders and looks down at my empty notepad.

"What are you planning on doing?" She asks me.

"I gotta write a few songs before I leave here," I tell her. She nods her head. She looks over at the guitar and strums at it a little bit. "I've had writer's block the whole time."

"I write stories, so I know how that feels," she tells me. "Just write down how you are feeling and see what comes from that. It doesn't have to make sense. Have you heard some songs?"

"Yeah, especially some of the songs today," I answer her. She chuckles a little bit. She's not as crazy as I thought she was, so eclectic was the best guess to who she is as a person. Her untreated roots show she is a platinum blonde.

"You'll get it," she assures me. Someone knocks at our door and we both shout for them to come in. Nurse Stevens enters.

"Alexander, you have a visitor," she tells me. Who could it be? I didn't really want visitors while I was here. Keep my mind focus on what I need to do here. I furrow my brows in confusion. I get off the bed and follow her to the reception desk. I see Gabrielle standing there.

"El!" I yell.

"S!" She yells even louder. I run to her and hug her. "Cookie said you were allowed visitors now."

"I love that woman. Come on, take a walk with me in their garden," I tell her. We link arms and I take her to the garden. There is a courtyard that is enclosed by the facility. There is no view of the outside streets, so all the light comes through this courtyard that is in the center of the building. The place is filled with flowers of every kind, making it beautiful. They have tall green palm trees and red rose bushes everywhere.

"This place is beautiful," she says, looking at the garden. It looks enchanted. It almost does not fit here, but I think that was the purpose of this place. It's a refuge.

"I know right. I like coming out here when I need to study. My roommate won't give me peace unless my tutor is here," I tell her. Gabrielle starts laughing at me.

"Sounds like you are getting a taste of your own medicine," she responds. I playfully glared at her.

"Whatever could you mean?" I ask her, knowing full well what she meant by it.

"I don't know. I'm trying to study and you're twerking in my face," she replies, and I am guilty as charged.

"Just say you miss me," I say to her winking. She wraps her arms around my waist and squeezed it.

"I do, the house, school, and X is not the same without you," she tells me. Xavier... I can only imagine.

"Xavier?"

"He was moody when you guys were together. How do you think he is now?'' She asks as we continue to walk through the garden. I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head.

"Mood swings galore," I reply. She nods her head.

"Yup and E don't help at all."

"What do you mean?"

"The two of them are constantly arguing. Honestly, E has a lot on his now," she tells me. I stop her and look at her. There is something she is not telling me.

"What's going on?" I ask her. I can tell by her expression it is serious.

"Kristin is pregnant." I think my eyes popped out of my head. I shake my head no. She nods her head. Wow! Ethan and Kristin are going to be parents and so early in life. Kristin is my age and Ethan is barely old enough to drink. "Yeah, they are trying to figure stuff out. Her dad wants to kill him. Her mom wants him to marry her. Our family is just excited."

"Wow, so, you're going to be an aunt," I say in shock. I needed to say it, so it sounded real. I am missing a lot being in here.

"Seems that way. The two of them are so nervous," she confides in me.

"Yeah, their whole world is about to change. So, are they getting married?" I ask her. They are young but they have been together for a couple of years now.

"E was leaning towards that before she got pregnant but was going to wait until he got to Med school next year," she informs me.

"Alexander..." Roberts says, pulling my attention away from Gabrielle. We both look up to see Roberts approaching us.

"Alexander?" Gabrielle questions.

I nod my head. "We use our last names here. This is Anthony Roberts. Roberts this is Gabrielle Sylvain. My bestie," I introduce them.

"I thought I was your bestie," he jokes.

"No, only after midnight," I continue joking with him. Gabrielle's eyes bug out of her head.

"Wait, what?" She asks me. I laugh at how bad that statement sounded.

"A bunch of us meet in the laundry room after midnight. While my roommate makes out with her girlfriend, me and him talk," I answer her. Gabrielle turns her full attention on him. She looks tiny next to him, but she has on her most intimidating face. His lips curl up into a devilish grin.

"Don't worry, I'm not knocking your friend's boots. I did try..." he jokingly admits. Gabrielle's glare gets more intense and he just looks amused by her attitude. She places her hands on her hips. She's ready to rip his head off.

"Don't try, again," she snaps at him. They stare each other down.

"Xavier is her other best friend," I explain to him. The two of them not losing focus on each other. 

"More like brother," she adds. Her voice is protective.

"Oh, I like this one, she's feisty," he says with a flirtatious tone.

"I could show you just how feisty I am," she threatens, her voice deeper and cold. His grin gets bigger and he steps closer to her.

"I bet you could," he says in a gravelly voice. He turns and begins to walk away. While waving at us, "See you tonight Alexander." Gabrielle watches him walk away and she shakes her head while her hands are still on her hips.

"Well, he's a jerk," she says to me.

"He's fine, he's just flirtatious. Crazy back story," I tell her, not admitting to our interesting moments he and I have had.

"Crazier than yours?" She questions. I nod my head.

"Definite. You don't have to worry, my body only responds to Xavier's touch," I tell her, knowing full well, it's been responding to his, just not the same. Xavier's brings love and comfort. Roberts' is lusty and dangerous.

"Ew, but good." I laugh and link my arms with her and enjoy the short time I have with her.

"When it's time for me to go home. Don't tell anyone. I want a moment to myself. No party, nothing," I command her.

"You think that'll happen?" She asks me.

"Yeah, if you don't go throwing me a party. I need to get reacclimated," I explain. She rests her head against my arm.

"I got you." Gabrielle eventually leaves and I get back to my schedule for the day. As the days turn into weeks, I feel lighter than when I arrived. My therapist sets a week when I'll be going through intensive family therapy to both mines and my mother's dismay. I've been here for a month and I watch as Kline packs up her bags.

"I'm so happy to be going home. I can't wait to have pizza!" She says while collecting her things.

"That's what you're looking forward to?" I ask sitting on my bed, staring at the words in my notepad. There are a couple of songs in there now.

"Girl, you'll see. Besides it's not like I have any family to go to," she tells me while folding up a shirt to put in her bag.

"Where are you going?" I ask her.

"There is this halfway house you get to stay in and do outpatient. They'll hook me up with a job and an apartment."

"Hey, if you need anything, don't wait to hit me up. This is my grandmother's phone number and our address. You find us when you're ready," I tell her, writing down our information on a blank piece of paper in my notepad. I tear it out and hand it to her. She looks down at the paper and I can tell she wants to cry.

"Thank you. I've never had anyone who actually cares about me."

"Well, now you have two." She hugs me and puts the paper in her bag. Nurse Stevens comes to get me, and she walks out the door for the final time. I sigh, sad she is gone, but also because I'm not leaving yet.

That night I go to the laundry room for the first time without Kline. I open the doors to see her girlfriend is still there talking to someone. She looks sad. She'll be going home soon, too and they'll be reunited.

"Kline went home?" Roberts ask me when he sees me. I nod my head while hugging myself. I did not think I would miss her. "Give it time, they'll have someone else in there soon enough." We walk over to the table we are always on when we talk. He takes a finger and gently caresses my arm. He sighs before he goes to speak. "I'm leaving soon, too."

"Ugh, you two are killing me here," I say to him. I am very aware of his finger caressing my arm.

"Aw, does that mean you'll miss me?" He asks me.

"Of course. Who else is going to interrupt my dance sessions in the morning?" I respond, and he lets out a big laugh. He smiles at me.

"I knew I made an impression," he tells me. Oh, an impression he has made, but it needs to stay that way. Nothing more can happen between us.

"I don't get how we can fit in this room with your ego," I tease him. He rests himself closer to me. With a big grin on his face.

"I keep it tucked in my pants," he answers. I roll my eyes and laugh at him. Yes, make me think about what I should not touch.

"Can we go one night without talking about little Roberts?" He chuckles at my question.

"No can do... gotta remind you what you're missing," he says with a mischievous grin while getting even closer to me.

"I said I'd miss you, not little Roberts, who I don't want to be introduced to," I tell him. He places himself directly in front of me. His lips close to mines. His eyes challenging me.

"Your body says otherwise," he says to me. My body is betraying my words. I push him away. He shrugs and moves back to a comfortable spot and I breathe a sigh of relief. "Your loss. Humor me, if you didn't have someone at home, would you have let me?"

"Why? So, your ego could get bigger?"

"Look who's talking about my d**k now," he jokes. I shake my head and slap his arm.

"Shut up. To be honest, without him, I wouldn't even be here. But before knowing him. I most certainly would have."

"Thanks for your honesty."

"Yeah, but you would've been just one of my conquests. Nothing more," I tell him. That is the truth. Guys who made me feel like Roberts did ended up being my f**k buddies. A relationship is not something I would have allowed to develop. We would be no good for each other.

"Nothing more?" He asks, sounding possibly hurt? His tone was unclear.

"I had a no boyfriend policy until Xavier."

"As in, this Xavier is very special to you," he says to me. I nod my head. I look away from him for a moment. Even with all the flirting with Roberts, my heart yearned for Xavier. I have been craving him every day I have been here. For some reason that scares me.

"Very. He opened himself up to me before I was ready and he was patient with me," I tell him. I look down at my lap, thinking more about him. How I miss everything about him. "He feels like home." Before I know it, tears are running down my face. Roberts wipes away the tears falling down my cheeks.

"Don't push that way. If my ex-wife described me like that, maybe I wouldn't be here," he admits. I look at him. Sadness screams from his eyes. I know it's not for me, but of what could have been.

"But I have to. He out of anyone I know deserves to live a wonderful life. If everyone was like him, this would be a wonderful world. I bring pain, not wonder, sirens are monsters."

"Alexander, you're in love with him," he tells me. I give him a quick glance. "You chose to be here to fix yourself so you can be a better woman for him. Sounds to me, he has the power to make your life wonderful. You won't bring pain; I can promise that. It's time to let the fear go."

I wipe the remaining tears from my eyes as I digest his words. Could I have a wonderful life with Xavier? One where my addiction is not a constant problem. One where the crippling emotions I feel towards myself was not a source for ruin. I want to be loved, but I still don't feel deserving and of a wonderful life, is out of reach for me.

"Hey, when you get out, come find my shop. I have a tattoo for you," he tells me. I raise my eyebrows at him, finally out of the mood we've been in for the last twenty minutes.

"A tattoo?" I ask him. I don't have any, which is weird since I do love them.

"Yes, wait till you see it. Now I'm going to bed, you better, too." The two of us head off to bed. We spend a couple of more nights in that laundry room. The flirting stopped. He did join me one more time in the fitness center, but to act silly with me. Eventually, he leaves, and I don't go back to the laundry room. I get a new roommate and we don't mesh well. At this point, I am just counting down the time to when my family will be here and when I get to go home.