It was nearly 5 A.M. when I had finally fallen into a deep slumber. Dreaming about the feeling of Michael's face under the touch of my fingers. Feeling the weight of his long, frail body atop mine, the heat radiating fiercely from him body to mine. We were practically one.

My phone rang annoyingly early, awakening me. I looked at the clock, it was 5 P.M. I had slept for a whole twelve hours. Half of my entire day was wasted. I felt groggy and overslept but I reached for my phone still.

I had several new text messages, varying from Mike to Vic to Cara to Stephanie. Finally my eyes landed on Jaime's name. I smiled, seeing a new message from him made my heart smile. He was always the only one to truly never give up on me. During my worst, my best, my neutral, he was forever there by my side. Worrying.

I opened his message, 'Hey Brookie, haven't talked to you for a few days, are you doing better? You better text me back! Or I will take our friendship privileges and throw them away ;)'

I laughed out loud and texted my silly best friend back.

Mike had sent me numerous text messages, apologizing mainly. He was incredibly bi-polar. I flashed back to our lovely conversation the previous night. I sighed and continued down the list to the enormous list of missed calls.

Baby. is said in red, with a red 17 next to it in parentheses. I shook my head, he sure knew how to make a person want to slap him. A few other random missed calls from some of the other boys, which I assumed were from Mike using their phones, and one from Steph probably inquiring about my plans for the day.

I sighed deeply again, recalling the empty baggy on the bathroom counter. I cursed under my breath, agitated at the fact that Mike wasn't here to replenish my supply. I hit his name on my phone softly, listening to the first couple rings before Mike answered.

"Brooklyn?" He said exasperated.
"The one and only," I said, my voice full of attitude.
"Where have you been?"
"Sleeping, I didn't fall asleep until after 5 this morning," I said irritably.
"I was worried as all shit," He said quietly, I could hear him relocating.
"Nothing to worry about, I'm all out and alive," I sat against the headboard of Mike's bed.
"Maybe that's a sign," He said quietly.
"Mike, it's getting pretty monotonous listening to you talk about getting clean. I'm this deep, there's no going back."
"Than maybe we shouldn't be together anymore," He whispered.

I swear I could hear all the windows shatter in the apartment, while simultaneously waves crashed again and again sweeping me out into the vunerability of the cold, deep, dark ocean. I was sick to my stomach, the vomit rising to my throat.

"W-What?" I asked.
"I want to get clean, and unless you want to get clean with me, we shouldn't block each other's paths."
"Michael," I whispered, but there was no breath in me.

The wind and breath was knocked clean out of me. I was gasping for air, the tears were coming quickly, like a dam breaking and letting a flood of water rush through.

"Brooklyn," He said quietly, yet sternly.
"Don't, please don't leave me," I was frantic.
"I'm not leaving you, but if you can't find the will to get clean with me, than I can't keep doing this. People are starting to figure things out, and I'm done being irresponsible toward things that matter."

I was completely and utterly silent.

"Don't do anything stupid, okay, Brook?"

Still I said nothing. Reserved. Shocked. Dumbfounded.

"I've loved you, unconditionally, Mike. I've believed in you when you didn't believe in yourself. I gave you every last piece of me. I've burnt bridge after bridge because I believed you were my one and only. I lost my family, my friends, my dignity, to be with you. To be exactly the girl you wanted. You created who you wanted, but once she got so deep you couldn't deal with her imperfections anymore you decide to toss her away. I would've never chosen this path for myself Michael, I would've never done any of this. I did it all for you. Because it was what would make you happy," I was choking from crying so hard.

Things had never gotten this tainted and broken when he was away. We had never fought or argued before when he was away. Things were slipping from my fingertips.