When I returned to my parents’ house, my mom was in the kitchen cooking dinner and she motioned to the paper where she had circled a few apartments for rent. And I took the hint. I had been with my parents for weeks, and though they were supportive and kind to me, I could tell they wanted their lives back. They wanted their freedom, and quite frankly I wanted my freedom back as well.
So I apartment hunted seriously. I thought of the student loan I'd been granted for the summer session, and I tried to find another apartment I could afford. I thought of how far I could make my loans last. I thought of where I wanted to live, and how I wanted to live. I looked hard for something new to fit the new me I wanted to create.
And a few weeks later I found my new apartment, perfectly situated closer to my University, but far enough away that I was still a single woman living in her own apartment, instead of a student living in a student housing apartment. I was close to school, but far enough away to be myself without being confused for a typical student.
So my parents moved all of my stuff out of my old apartment with me, and my dad promised to keep Patrick away should he attempt to talk to me again, which he did. I moved in 2 weeks after that because being a University City meant many apartments were available all summer while students broke leases from their previous year of school.
I was enrolled and started the summer session so I had more credits in fewer time, plus a major distraction from all the changes I was trying to make.
If I kept moving forward and was distracted, I found it easier to actually take these forward steps.
And then I finally spoke to Alex.
Alexander seemed to always be near me on campus. Well, the days I actually went to school, Alex was always around. Alex smiled and said hello, and made light banter with me while I fought running from him to my car.
Eventually, Alex began walking with the security patrol to my car with me. Eventually, Alex’s conversations made me give one or two word answers in reply. Eventually, I began speaking back to Alexander’s conversations.
And he was good. There was something so soothing about his voice. There was something so calming and warming, that I often found myself silently listening to his tone of voice, rather than to his actual words. There was something so lovely about Alexander Hamilton.
After maybe a month of hit and misses, Alex finally asked me if I would like him to accompany me to all my classes, and I remember looking at him like he was joking. I thought he was being sarcastic because of the bizarre inconsistency of my school attendance, but he wasn’t. Alex honestly wanted to walk me to and from whatever classes I attended, and so a phone number was exchanged.
With NO pressure, Alex asked for my phone number and gave me his. Alex asked me to call him when I planned to attend class, whenever that was, so he could meet me in the parking lot to escort me to and from my class if he was available.
He asked me to let him know when I would be at school because he was concerned with my safety. He told me he didn’t like thinking of me alone in the evening on our huge campus. He told me he thought of me frequently, and he wanted me to be safe. He told me he liked me and wanted to know I was safe.
So 7 weeks after the first smile, I called Alex and actually told him I would be attending the evening class, and he thanked me for telling him and said he would meet me in the parking lot. And I remember hanging up the phone and thinking of his voice. He was just so calm and cool and he spoke so honestly with a touch of humor and with an ease I had never known.
There was something about Alexander that was soothing to me.
After all the shit I had dealt with the previous 10 ½ months of my pathetic little life, I actually wanted to bask in the ease Alexander’s voice provided me, and so I did.
After that first phone call, the seal of my silence was cracked wide open. I found myself calling Alex just to say hello and nothing else. I found myself waiting to see if Alex would return my call. I found myself waiting for Alex to call me, and he always did. Once that seal was broken, he called me often.
Alex still did all the talking, but I found myself drinking in his voice as I sat listening.
Alexander’s voice was wonderful for me because he didn’t ask for anything in return. He never demanded anything of me. He asked questions but when I paused, or swallowed hard, or closed down completely, he moved on. He didn’t push me to go to class, and he didn’t question why I didn’t go to class some nights. Alex just called to tell me about his day, while I sat silently listening.
Alexander was this tall, handsome man who simply walked with me. He spoke to me kindly, and with a gentleness and ease of tone which I never feared. He was a lovely little light who gave me some calm when we walked. I found that Alex brought me a little peace in my darkness.
And I found myself warming up to Alexander in a way I didn’t think was possible. He wasn’t as intense as my stranger, and he wasn’t crazy in my face wild like Patrick had been. Alex was somehow in the middle of the 2 men I knew and loved and hated the most.
And then the moment that changed my life forever happened.
The moment that rebirthed me. The moment I started the journey to all I’ve ever wanted to be. The one moment in time that defined absolutely everything of my life afterward.
CHAPTER 16
9 weeks after our smile, 4 months after Patrick's betrayal, 8 months after the miscarriage, and 12 months after His last visit, Alexander kissed me in front of the campus museum.
Alexander kissed me, and I loved it.
I was stunned. Shocked. Confused. In awe.
I loved Alexander’s kiss. It was deep and beautiful, and romantic, and loving. It was the kind of kiss that weakens knees, and makes a body press in against the other person.
Alexander.
Alex kissed me and everything stopped for me. All the worries and the loneliness and the horrors and the fear… stopped. Everything I had felt for as long as I could remember stopped. Alexander kissed me, and I forgot who I was in his arms.
Alex walked me to my car as usual. He talked and I listened as usual because I loved his voice. Alex spoke and laughed and walked beside me toward the parking lot.
But Alex stopped suddenly and took a step in front of me, turned to me, slowly raised his hand to my cheek, took my face in the palm of his hand and leaned into my lips. Slowly, like he was asking permission he leaned in. Gently, like he didn’t want to frighten me he held my face. Softly, like he was afraid I’d run he kissed my lips.
And it was amazing.
Alex kissed me... and eventually Alex broke off the kiss. Unbelievably, it was Alex who stopped the kiss from escalating because I couldn't stop it. Unbelievably, I was almost disappointed when he stopped the kiss.
Unbelievably, I loved Alexander’s kiss.
When he pulled away from my lips, Alexander ducked down, leaned his forehead against mine and exhaled. Waiting, neither of us spoke. Waiting, I didn’t know what to do or say. Waiting, Alex stayed firmly pressed against me.
After forever, I turned my head slowly and kissed the inside of his palm. And then the dam broke.
When Alex whispered, “Sadie…” I burst into tears.
Standing together, I cried and Alexander wiped my tears as quickly as they fell. With no words between us, I was lost. Shaking my head, I heard myself moaning as I hunched over and grabbed for my hollow stomach.
Everything ached in that moment. I was happy and miserable at once. I was moving on and regressing in the same second. I was experiencing my first kiss and I was cheating on my only lover. I was new and I was used.
I was in agony.
After forever, Alex stopped trying to wipe my tears with his fingers, and instead used his sleeve to wipe my face, eyes, and nose. But he didn’t flinch, and he wasn’t repulsed. He acted like my behavior was normal and perfectly okay. He didn’t seem remotely shocked or scared, or horrified by my horrific behavior.
And when I finally caught my breath and stood back up to look at h
im, Alex smiled at me- he actually smiled.
Grinning at my confusion, Alex whispered, “I’ve never made a woman cry after kissing her. This is definitely a first.”
And smiling at his light humor, I whispered an ‘I’m sorry…’ as I stood still in my confusion and pain. “I don’t know who to be when I'm with you,” I confessed.
“Sadie… you can be anyone you want to be with me. I promise.”
Pausing to take in his words, I stared at his face and I believed him. I could be anyone with Alexander and I wanted to be. I just didn’t know how to change me. And I really didn’t know who I wanted to be.
So making a decision, I told Alex I had to go. I asked him to give me some time. I asked him not to call me, and amazingly he agreed.
Alexander walked me to my car in silence, and he paused at the door as I sat in my car. Leaning against the opened door, he waited until I finally turned my face toward him.
“Sadie, you can be anyone you want to be with me. Just ask me for help and I'll give it, or tell me what you need and I’ll do it. Anything at all.” Stunned again by his gentleness of tone, I looked at Alexander Hamilton and I believed him.
“Okay…” I replied. “But I need a little time.”
Smiling, Alex leaned down, kissed my cheek, and said, “You’ve got time. Just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll be right there. Call me when you’re ready for me, Sadie. Okay?”
And nodding my head yes, I waited for Alexander to shut my door as I slowly backed away from him. Driving slowly, I didn’t know where I was going. Driving unaware, I didn’t remember which turns to make, or which streets to drive on. I didn’t know my own name in that moment.
Eventually, I found myself parked in my old apartment’s spot- the spot by the front door. The spot I had parked in for years. My old spot to my old apartment. The apartment of my trauma, and youth, and abuse, and love, and horrors, and Him, and of Patrick.
Sitting in my old spot, I wanted to see Patrick so badly, because I wanted to ask him what I should do. I wanted to admit to everything that had been my dear stranger. I wanted his guidance, but I couldn’t do it. Patrick was dead to me, and I needed to leave him buried. And so I left.
Pulling out of my old spot, I drove to my new apartment near the University and I started again.
For 11 days I stayed in my apartment. I didn’t go to class and I didn't leave my apartment. For 11 days I spoke to no one. And Alex almost made it, but finally on the 11th day after our wonderful kiss my phone rang.
Sitting near my phone which absolutely never rang, I knew it was him. I knew Alex was calling, but I just wasn’t ready for him yet. I had spent 11 days struggling with my 2 realities.
I had my waking potential with Alex, and of course I had my sleeping reality with my stranger- A reality with my stranger which was all I had known for nearly 7 years of my life.
Waiting near the phone, the machine finally picked up and I heard Alex’s lovely voice for the first time in 11 days.
“Hi Sadie. I know I said I wouldn’t call, and I won’t again, I promise. I just want to know you’re okay. That’s all. Call me and say ‘I’m okay’ and you can hang up. That’s all I need from you, nothing more. We don’t have to talk about anything else. I don’t want you to talk to me until, or if you’re ready. I just want to know you’re okay. I care for you, and not knowing if you’re okay is driving me crazy. Just an okay, Sadie. That’s all. I promise.”
And I believed him.
Sitting on my couch beside the phone, I believed Alex wanted nothing more than to know I was okay. He had never asked for anything from me- he didn’t try to enter my apartment, and he didn’t try to force visits with me after class. He didn’t ask me to hang out with him before or after he walked me to and from my classes. He didn’t push himself into my life. All he ever did was talk to me and make sure I was safe coming and going to school.
So leaning for the phone, I dialed. Shaking, I waited. But after only one ringtone he answered.
“I’m okay,” I spoke quickly before he could even say hello.
“Thank you. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“No… but thanks.”
“Will you let me know if there IS anything I can do for you? Anything I can do to help you?”
“Yes…” I whispered.
“Okay. Good night, Sadie.”
But pausing, I was wordless. I wanted to hear him speak. I actually wanted his voice speaking quietly to me. I wanted to talk to Alexander Hamilton because he was Alex.
“Anything, Sadie.”
“Thank you. But not now. There’s some stuff. Um, I can’t talk about it. But thank you Alex for caring.”
“I do care. But I won’t call you again. I’ll just wait for you, okay?”
“Okay. Good night, Alex.” And then I hung up before he could say anything else.
Sitting with the receiver in my hand, I found myself cradling it to my chest as I cried. I couldn’t even tell you what I was crying about. I didn’t know what I was crying about. I missed Alex, but I missed my stranger more. I had feelings for Alex, but I loved my stranger totally. I liked walking with Alex, but I lived for my stranger.
There were so many things going through my head. There were so many emotions ripping through my chest. I was sad, and lonely, and unhappy. I felt guilt for liking the kiss with Alex, and I felt guilt for liking Alex’s kiss but not telling him about my stranger. I liked Alex's kiss but I felt guilty for not telling my stranger about Alex.
Everything was surrounded in guilt, and I was desperate and disturbed because the guilt was quickly killing me.
So walking to my bathroom, I found some of my pills. Walking to my kitchen, I found a cold bottle of vodka in the fridge. Swigging right from the bottle I downed some of my pills with the alcohol. And gulping hard, I leaned against the counter as I struggled with my reality.
*****
When I woke up, I was under the table staring at the empty bottle- the large bottle- lying on its side. Crawling to a stand against the table, my body was in agony. Walking slowly, with my pounding head leaning to the right, for some odd reason that helped, I eventually made it to the bathroom. Running the water and turning on the shower, I could barely undress. I was a mess and I knew it. This time I had gone a little too far, I could tell.
Sitting slowly on the edge of my tub, I let myself slide to the tub bottom as the water poured over my head. I remember wanting to wash my hair, but my hands wouldn’t work very well. With a shaking that was pretty obvious, I gave up trying to reach for the shampoo.
And then my body began dying on me. I could actually see it happening. My stomach started moving strangely, almost like something kicking its way out from the inside. My legs started shaking badly against the bottom of the tub. I actually watched my hands cramp into claws that I couldn’t straighten. I suffered cramps all over my legs, and my feet felt tight and stuck in their horrible position.
I was lying there on the bottom of the tub with a body in agony, and I couldn’t help myself at all. Even if I could’ve yelled, I didn’t think my neighbors would have heard me. Even if I could have attempted to get help, I didn’t think I would have made it to the front door which was closest, or to the phone which was much further away.
Watching with my head lying in the water, cocked to the side, as my body continued to move and cramp, I realized I was pretty far gone that time.
I remember knowing I was dancing my final dance with death.
And in that moment of acknowledgement I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth to all the physical pain, and then I thought of my stranger. I thought of our years together and all I had gained from Him. I thought of all I had gained. I thought of the benefit to all the years of my stranger’s visits, and then I thought of nothing.
What had I gained? Sexual knowledge never to be used with another? The ability to orgasm with only Him? Loneliness? A life half lived? Love and obsession? Insecurity and pain? Unbearable loneliness and
suffering?
What had I gained from my years with my stranger?
I remember waking hours later on the floor beside the shower. I remember waking in the midst of vomiting. I remember my body vomiting and shaking but I did very little to aid myself. Actually, I remember not being able to help myself. And so my body lie dying as my mind succumbed to the fact that I was probably dancing with death for the very last time.
When I became conscious again a few hours later I remember my confusion. I remember looking around the bathroom wondering how long I had been there. I didn’t even know if days had passed, but what I did know was I was disgusting. Truly, I was undeniably disgusting.
I was lying in my own vomit and excrement. I was laying in filth. I was covered in the unimaginable. But at the very least, I was alive.
Waiting patiently as the smell assaulted me, I was eventually able to move my arms and then my legs. Slowly, I crawled my way 2 steps back to the shower. Looking at my disgustingly filthy hands as I tried to turn on the taps, I saw everything my body could expel all over me. I saw it all. I even saw my blood.
I remember as the shower warmed waiting and wondering where exactly the blood came from. Based on the agony of swallowing, I could have torn my esophagus while vomiting, or I could have bled out the remains of my stomach lining. I could have simply expelled all I was able to, until blood was the only thing left in which TO expel. I don’t know, but I do know I was in pain, sad, confused, and yet relieved that I was alive in that moment.
Where was He?
After all the times He had magically appeared when I was this near to a death, He had always come to me and saved me. Where was He? I hadn’t seen Him in nearly a year and when I really needed Him, He wasn’t there for me… again.