I’m at that point where I’m actually considering therapy and not painkillers. It’s unacceptable to keep doing this to myself. I feel like I’m looking down on my body and yelling at it for being such a fuck up and creating new problems and yet I can’t hear myself. I’m in this weird mode of self destruction which won’t stop functioning until it’s ran out of options. I woke up on the couch well after dinnertime with a throbbing head already and reached for my pills, robotically I inserted three, one after the other and swallowed them down with the remainder of the white wine in my glass. My stomach reminded me that I should eat but I ignored its pangs and walked into the kitchen opting for beer to satisfy my system.

I wanted to see her. I needed to see her. I just needed to know how she is. I was beginning to forget what her face looked like. Every time I tried and pictured her in my head it faded into a ball of fuzz and  convinced me that I’d never really remember her the way she is. I have countless pictures but I didn’t want to remember a picture, I wanted the real thing. I wanted her smile that she saved for only me, the extra wide grin accompanied with those gleaming blue eyes. I picked up my cell phone and input her number; my fingers grazed over the keys as I contemplated hitting the green button and connecting her call. I shut my phone in a despondent slam and opened the second beer of the evening hoping it would do its job and quickly.

I reckon I must have had about six beers when I decided that my need to see Dana overcame any other thought, rational or not, in my head. I remember picking up the keys to my mini and catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I walked through my hall on the way out. It was a haunting sight. I knew I’d lost weight but not this much. My cheeks had started to sink into my face and my skin was blotchy and dull. I was a shadow of what I used to be and yet I didn’t care, all I could think of was driving past her house and hopefully catching a glimpse of her from a far. I just needed that picture in my head to be complete; I needed to see her face. I needed to correct that blob and make it fresh again. I half staggered half walked out of my apartment and out into the cool air of West Hollywood. It had been a while since I’d left the apartment and I’d forgotten how good the slight wind felt across my bare cheek. I unlocked my car and got into the drivers seat. I don’t really know what was running through my head. I had become unrecognisable even to myself and was on some form of autopilot. Dana. Dana. Dana. She was my goal, everything else was expendable. I started the car fairly easily and sluggishly pulled it out of its parked stance and onto the road. I was driving surprisingly well. Perhaps the route being so familiar really helped me to stay somewhat focused on the road but it wasn’t focused enough. I had picked up the pace in my desperation and failed to see the light turn red before it was too late. The last thing I remember was the penetrable screech of tyres and a heavy impact to my body.