The End….
Sometimes endings can be the beginning to new things, other times, they are nothing but just the end.
“You don’t get it, do you? We were not friends. We never were, and we never will be. You guys are no one special to me. I was using you. I was using you both to convince myself there are still good people left out there, and that with open eyes, I can find them. I know it’s pathetic but I was always taking you as a shimmer of hope when life suffocated me in the dark.”
She knew she would regret the words as she was saying them. She knew she would lose them too. But she couldn’t stop. She owed them the truth. She knew all they hear would be the betrayal, she knew by the time she uttered her truth, those bridges would collapse too. This was not the first time after all.
“What are you saying…?” . Max asked with utter shock on his face. She knew the damage was done hearing the way his sound wavered. But her emotional dam was already broken and she knew she had to let it out fully, at least let them see who she was, deep within. At least that is what she told herself every time she had an outburst. It felt more reassuring to herself than the fact that she never had been the one in charge of her narrative.
“If you thought we could be friends, that we were special, it itself shows how much you never knew me. To be loved and cared for, you should have a tiny loveable part in you. And I just can’t. I am damaged, a broken soul. No matter what anyone say, I know I am not loveable. I feel ashamed to be alive, morning after morning. How can you expect me to feel confident that someone actually enjoys my company? I can’t. Because over the years, I was…”
“Just stop.”Max shouted at her with anger in his eyes. (Or is that insult? Or frustration? Well, we can never understand another so plainly, can we? )
This was it. The moment of peace. The moment she knew a decision was made. It was over between them. She didn’t have to spend her days worrying and wondering when they too were going to leave her. It was liberating in a way.
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She knew she sounded ungrateful. But she needed someone to understand. She wished for a single human who could have enough tolerance to understand that no one ever loves to feel so poor of oneself and tell her that she was wrong. She wished someone would see through her fake laughs and charades of craziness and tell her it was ok. Tell her she was as loveable as any other human over and over again till she could accept it. She wished for someone who would tell her that she deserved to live, as much as anyone else.
She was no murderer, she was no devil, she was just vulnerable to the wrong people, who over time, convinced her she deserved even less. And like poison, it did spread, consuming her happiness, confidence, relations and her identity. She was unlovable and if anyone tried to, they’d just end up hurt. It was ugly, but now it was her truth.
They stared at her with misty eyes and hurting hearts. Johan knew breakups hurt, but it was with her that he understood how helplessness can hurt even worse. How can you help someone who is determined not to be helped? How can you be a friend to someone who doesn’t understand what friendship is?
“Why do you think you are the only one who is broken? How selfish can you be to assume that you are the only one who has been hurt in life? Does your hurt give you the pass to hurt others too? Oh, right. We are just a bunch of no bodies right? Just another set to be used and disposed off like a tissue, at your disposal.”
It was frustrating to put up with her drama on a daily basis. Everyday, it was some version of the same song. Her insecurity getting the better of her. Some days, he spent hours on the phone with an upset Gillian, hysteric over how everyone hated her, how nothing was working out for her and how her life sucked. Maybe it would be easier if she would stop being such a bitch to everyone. Over these two years of knowing him, she had not called him even once to ask him how he was. Johan had enough. Gillian needed help. Help beyond what he could offer.
He was aware of Max standing beside him, fuming in his fury. He could only imagine the darts that he would direct at her once he lost it. But was she worth it? Even anger deserve a level of respect and care. It was insulting to oneself to spend another second with someone like Gillian, be it to reason with her or to shout at her.
“Lets just leave the princess along as she pleases then, Max”. Said Johan, feeling his heart shattering, turning to Max. Even when he knew she deserved none of it, he couldn’t stop mourning over the loss of his friend(who obviously didn’t think of him as anything of the sort).
They walked out the door into the sunset, hurt by someone they really cared about, building a memory trap to imprison it somewhere deep in the brain. And she collapsed onto her bed, hating herself even more, lamenting her last and latest forfeiture, with no one who would care if she was dead or alive, her tears and the sleeping pills gently guiding her to the world of dreams, where she could be as happy as she is ever gonna be.
