“Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me.”
The air was frigid and her coat itchy, but she still pulled it tighter around her as the snow started to fall. It was hard to find comfort in the white flakes gently landing around her; it was hard finding comfort in anything these days. It’d been almost four months since Dylan left and it was like she was a walking ghost. Everyone and everything passing through her.
She stepped inside the bar, the bell chiming above, and found an surplus of open stools. It was a Tuesday night after all. She thought that as time went on it would be easier to forget and maybe even move on, but every time she let her mind slip away it always came back to him.
She was breaking virtually every traffic law, but she didn’t give a shit. She was heading straight for Dylan’s and ready to tell him off like there was no tomorrow. Who did he think he was ignoring her like this? One fight and he decides to act like an asshole and drop off the face of the earth? This shit wasn’t okay.
They had only been together a few months at the time, but were best friends for years before that. That had to count for something. Or so she thought.
She pulled into his driveway, tires squealing mad, and was at the door in seconds. She pounded on the door as loudly as she could until his mom answered the door. “Emma?” she asked surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Is Dylan here? I’m sorry to bother you, but he hasn’t been answering any of my calls,” she explained trying to keep her growing fury under control.
“He didn’t tell you?”
She remembered how bad it hurt when the words left his mom’s mouth.
“He’s gone. Left a few hours ago.”
Going somewhere, anywhere but here. She didn’t care to ask questions other than where he was leaving from.
Boise Airport. First Amtrak going East. Those six words reverberated in her mind as she blindly drove, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. Why was he doing this? It had to be something bigger than the two of them otherwise he wouldn’t be leaving her like this, right? What if she didn’t get to say goodbye?
She ordered a shot of whiskey and sent it down the hatch, ordering another one. It was a game she liked to play on these kinds of nights: How many did it take to get him out of her head? It usually varied depending on how long it would take her to pass out.
8447 Thruway Bus to Colorado Junction. She heard him tell the lady working the desk, his voice sure. It only took her a few moments to spot his leather jacket and messy dark blonde hair. “Dylan!” she shouted over the noise and shoved her way through the bustle of people. He turned around faster than she could blink as his eyes met hers.