The Mixtape

Our whole relationship was based on selfishness. She stayed with me because it made great press for her to be the sweetheart who stayed by my side during my storm, and I stayed with her so I wouldn’t lose myself in the dark.

Toxic? Yes.

Terrible coping mechanism? Also yes.

I sat in my bedroom with large headphones covering my ears. I was home alone, so I turned to music to drown out the noise that was echoing in my head. I had a playlist with over six hundred of my favorite songs that meant something to me—half of which I’d probably learned about from Alex when he’d send me a song a day. I missed getting those songs.

I missed sharing my songs too.

“Oliver? Are you here?” a voice hollered through my house. The voice was loud enough to cut through the music playing in my headphones. I slid them down and placed them around my neck.

I listened to Kelly’s heels click-clacking through my hallways as she grew closer and closer to my bedroom. “Just a wellness check-in! Your mom called and asked me to stop by, and well, I just wanted to stop by, too, after what happened with the show.” She kept her voice loud, and there was a slight tremble in it as she searched for me. “So, if you are here, can you just make a loud noise? Because the idea of walking in on you and finding you not okay is too much for my anxiety.”

I swallowed hard and cleared my throat. “Here!” I shouted. “In my bedroom.”

I swore I heard Kelly’s sigh of relief rocket throughout the space.

She hurried over to my bedroom and gave me a slight smile as she stood in the doorway with a coffee in her hands. Her hair was in a messy bun, and she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. The puffiness under her eyes showcased her exhaustion.

“Hey, Oliver.”

I nodded once as I sat on the edge of my bed. “Hey.”

She walked over to me and sat down. She handed me the coffee. “Coffee, no whiskey.”

“Then what’s the point?” I joked.

“You okay?” she asked me.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Maybe.”

I lowered my head and fiddled with my fingers. Over the past few months, I’d told myself what I was dealing with wasn’t depression but just a temporary sadness that would go away over time. When time passed and it didn’t shift, I knew it was something I’d have to deal with for the rest of my life. Somehow, after Alex passed away, I felt . . . emptied.

I didn’t even know if “depressed” was the word for how I felt. Yet all I knew was that there was an emptiness inside of me and I hadn’t a clue how to fill that vacant place. I felt as if I were walking on broken glass, and I didn’t even feel the pain from the cuts. Everything was numb, everything was mute, everything was meaningless.

I wanted the pain of losing my brother to go away. That was why I drank, to keep those thoughts from surfacing, but the whiskey didn’t kill the struggles; it only temporarily hid them. When the whiskey faded, the pain came back stronger than ever.

“What makes you happy, Oliver?”

My mouth parted, but no words came out. Hell. I had no clue.

Kelly frowned. “What about music? Does music make you happy?”

I stayed quiet.

“Do you really not want to do music anymore? Like, if that is something you’re not interested in, then fine, let it go. But I’ve known you for so long, and I feel like music is the biggest part of who you are.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Then why are you pushing it away?”

I shrugged my shoulders and cleared my throat. “I don’t know how to do music without having Alex doing it beside me.”

Her eyes glassed over, and I felt bad for making her feel bad. Kelly missed Alex in a different way than I did, and I knew she was struggling. She was still going through the grieving process, but she’d never voice it to me. Maybe because she felt it would be too hard to talk about. Maybe because she hadn’t yet found the words to express her pain.

She pushed a smile through her lips and nodded her head once. “Do you know what would make Alex the saddest person?”

“What’s that?”

“Knowing you pushed your music away. He’d want you to embrace it, not run from it. He’d want music to be what fueled your tank after running for so long on empty. So, honestly, I think the best way you can honor your brother is by doing what you love the most. Oliver, you gotta let the music in. I think it’s the only thing that is going to heal you. I don’t know what happened at the concert, Oliver, and you don’t have to go into it. All I want to say is, be easy with yourself. You’re still mourning a big loss.”