How can something that makes you so happy be the reason for your sadness? When you have it, you’re happy but in the next moment you’re at your lowest point. It seems almost like an oxymoron. Yet these are the things we as humans crave the most in our lives. Secretly, we desire the things that destroy us. We thrive off heartbreak and disappointment, but we yearn for ultimate happiness. It makes sense then as to why we go to see movies, hoping for a happy ending, but with a plot twist that usually equates to some type of setback and/or loss for the main character. That’s also why we love gossip—we secretly enjoy hearing of other people’s sorrows simply so we can say ‘Gee, thankfully that’s not me.’
People suck.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
New Start
This was the beginning of real life, she thought to herself as she wove through the large crowd. There was no going back now. Her stomach felt like a thousand butterflies were fluttering around, and her heart felt like it was in her throat. The plane ticket felt so right in her hand, like this was all meant to be. She was about to hop on a plane that would take her to her new home, thousands of miles away. In her new city she didn’t know anyone or where anything was, there was no real reason for her to move either, she was doing it to live out her dream.
As she got onto the plane, she envisioned how the tropical sun would feel against her skin, as well as the slight breeze from the ocean. She pictured the beautiful sounds the birds would sing, and she’d have a hop in her step, humming along with the birds.
She belong in the tropics, cold weather was not her thing. She could handle the bugs, the heat and the humidity; she was also excited to adjust to the season switch. In North America it was winter, in Australia it was summer. That was a pretty easy switch, she thought as she smiled to herself.
Hours later, the plane landed and she was the first one to jump out of her seat. She was too excited to even notice the stiffness in her legs from sitting for so long. As she made her way through the airport her excitement grew. This was it, life began now.
As she got onto the plane, she envisioned how the tropical sun would feel against her skin, as well as the slight breeze from the ocean. She pictured the beautiful sounds the birds would sing, and she’d have a hop in her step, humming along with the birds.
She belong in the tropics, cold weather was not her thing. She could handle the bugs, the heat and the humidity; she was also excited to adjust to the season switch. In North America it was winter, in Australia it was summer. That was a pretty easy switch, she thought as she smiled to herself.
Hours later, the plane landed and she was the first one to jump out of her seat. She was too excited to even notice the stiffness in her legs from sitting for so long. As she made her way through the airport her excitement grew. This was it, life began now.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Whirlwind
Her life was like a movie, she mused. One of those overly dramatic ones, where it’s one thing after another, and tonight was the climax.
After being accused of things she didn’t do and having him tell her that he didn’t love her, she was furious with him. She had been biting her tongue the entire relationship, afraid to anger him, afraid to lose him. But that all changed tonight—she finally had enough. Tonight she was going to give him a piece of her mind.
That was until he bluntly said, “When I die, you’re going to be the reason why.” That comment stopped her right in her tracks.
She repeatedly told him that he was better than that, but he was too stubborn to listen. It wasn’t until a mutual friend of theirs told her that the last thing he said to them was that he was not okay and walking in traffic. That’s when panic ensued.
She messaged every single one of her friends as well as her, urging them all to go out and search for him. The comments he made no longer mattered, only his safety. For an hour she frantically searched for him, only to come up empty handed. It neared the early hours of the morning and her heart was in her throat until she finally heard that he was safe with his brother.
She spoke with his brother briefly and he assured her that he would keep him safe. She finally started to settle down and considered sleeping after spending the last three nights sleepless. Just when she calmed herself, she got another message from his brother apologizing for talking to her at this time but that his brother insisted he speak with her on the phone, and refusing anything else until then.
Concerned, she obliged and anxiously waited to hear her boyfriend’s voice on the phone.
It wasn’t, however, the one she was used to hearing every night. It was quiet, groggy and unfocused. He didn’t sound sober, in fact, he sounded barely alive.
Her mind was racing again, trying to figure out what he could have possibly done to himself. It wasn’t until morning that she learned that he had mixed several ecstasy pills with alcohol, and that she was the reason why.
After being accused of things she didn’t do and having him tell her that he didn’t love her, she was furious with him. She had been biting her tongue the entire relationship, afraid to anger him, afraid to lose him. But that all changed tonight—she finally had enough. Tonight she was going to give him a piece of her mind.
That was until he bluntly said, “When I die, you’re going to be the reason why.” That comment stopped her right in her tracks.
She repeatedly told him that he was better than that, but he was too stubborn to listen. It wasn’t until a mutual friend of theirs told her that the last thing he said to them was that he was not okay and walking in traffic. That’s when panic ensued.
She messaged every single one of her friends as well as her, urging them all to go out and search for him. The comments he made no longer mattered, only his safety. For an hour she frantically searched for him, only to come up empty handed. It neared the early hours of the morning and her heart was in her throat until she finally heard that he was safe with his brother.
She spoke with his brother briefly and he assured her that he would keep him safe. She finally started to settle down and considered sleeping after spending the last three nights sleepless. Just when she calmed herself, she got another message from his brother apologizing for talking to her at this time but that his brother insisted he speak with her on the phone, and refusing anything else until then.
Concerned, she obliged and anxiously waited to hear her boyfriend’s voice on the phone.
It wasn’t, however, the one she was used to hearing every night. It was quiet, groggy and unfocused. He didn’t sound sober, in fact, he sounded barely alive.
Her mind was racing again, trying to figure out what he could have possibly done to himself. It wasn’t until morning that she learned that he had mixed several ecstasy pills with alcohol, and that she was the reason why.
Hold Your Breath
She was fighting with him, but that wasn’t new. It seemed that the closer they got, the more they fought. Really, it didn’t make any sense, how could two best friends fight light cats and dogs? He said he cared, she doubted it. She said she cared, and she meant it.
What they had was good, and sometimes it could be great if they could go a few weeks without fighting. Granted, she had done some things that she knew would hurt him, considering he had confessed his deepest feelings to her. And he had made sure to have told her the night before exactly how he felt about her, and how much she had hurt him. So when her friends mentioned he’d be coming to the party that night, her stomach was in knots.
He arrived and there was an uncomfortable silence, she wondered if he would come over to say hello. After hugging everyone, she was surprised to see him walk over to her and give her a one-armed hug. They didn’t talk at all through that night though; they each stayed with their own group of friends.
She stepped outside for an hour or so to talk to one her friends because the cool tension in the room was annoying her. Eventually, several friends ran out of the house looking for her, saying she needed to go inside to handle her best friend.
She found him in the bathroom sitting on the floor in front of the toilet—how she usually saw him. He had an eating disorder, she assumed either anorexia or bulimia, it varied. He tried hiding it but she knew him well enough to figure out all his ways of ridding his body of food—he’d either voluntarily vomit, get too drunk where he’d vomit or use his intolerance to lactose as an excuse to get sick. This time he chose the route of alcohol-induced vomiting. But there was something different about him this time, she noted. He didn’t look the same, he looked weak.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him as she closed the bathroom door quietly behind him.
He looked up at her, tried a smile. “Nothing, I think I drank too much.”
“Don’t you always?” She noticed his eyes were watery. “Eat some bread; it’ll help soak up the alcohol.”
“I tried.” He looked annoyed. “My body is completely rejecting food.”
She sat down beside him and rubbed his back. “I’ll get you a glass of water then.”
She walked into the kitchen and poured him a glass of cool water. When she knocked and opened the door again she noticed that his usually dark was pale. She knew something was wrong and he just wasn’t telling her. At this point she had forgotten about their fight and was concerned about her best friend.
“I’m really sick,” he said.
“I know you are; I took the hint from you vomiting.”
“No,” he mumbled, “I’m really sick. I haven’t told anyone what I’m about to tell you.”
Her heart started racing as she swallowed hard. “What is it?” she whispered.
He looked her directly in the eye. “I’m HIV positive. I found out three weeks ago. It’s gonna kill me.”
She was in utter shock. Words scrambled through her mind but none could connect with her lips. Was she hearing him correctly? She felt like fainting, but also like hugging him. She wanted to extract the disease from his weak body and burn it to the ground. He didn’t deserve this, no one did. But he was such a great person; he disguised his hurt through bitterness.
When she could find the words, she spoke them quietly. “Was it…?” she trailed off.
He looked at her, his eyes displaying his vulnerability. “Yeah.”
She was silent again. Her head, however, was pounding. She kneeled and pulled him in tight for a hug. They stayed like that for a bit, tears rolling down both their faces. When he finally pulled away, she looked at him with sadness evident on her face. She hated the world, hated the person who gave it to him, hated that these diseases were even being spread. She also knew that this was something he couldn’t talk his way out of, he was stuck with it forever, and it was going to be the end of him.
What they had was good, and sometimes it could be great if they could go a few weeks without fighting. Granted, she had done some things that she knew would hurt him, considering he had confessed his deepest feelings to her. And he had made sure to have told her the night before exactly how he felt about her, and how much she had hurt him. So when her friends mentioned he’d be coming to the party that night, her stomach was in knots.
He arrived and there was an uncomfortable silence, she wondered if he would come over to say hello. After hugging everyone, she was surprised to see him walk over to her and give her a one-armed hug. They didn’t talk at all through that night though; they each stayed with their own group of friends.
She stepped outside for an hour or so to talk to one her friends because the cool tension in the room was annoying her. Eventually, several friends ran out of the house looking for her, saying she needed to go inside to handle her best friend.
She found him in the bathroom sitting on the floor in front of the toilet—how she usually saw him. He had an eating disorder, she assumed either anorexia or bulimia, it varied. He tried hiding it but she knew him well enough to figure out all his ways of ridding his body of food—he’d either voluntarily vomit, get too drunk where he’d vomit or use his intolerance to lactose as an excuse to get sick. This time he chose the route of alcohol-induced vomiting. But there was something different about him this time, she noted. He didn’t look the same, he looked weak.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him as she closed the bathroom door quietly behind him.
He looked up at her, tried a smile. “Nothing, I think I drank too much.”
“Don’t you always?” She noticed his eyes were watery. “Eat some bread; it’ll help soak up the alcohol.”
“I tried.” He looked annoyed. “My body is completely rejecting food.”
She sat down beside him and rubbed his back. “I’ll get you a glass of water then.”
She walked into the kitchen and poured him a glass of cool water. When she knocked and opened the door again she noticed that his usually dark was pale. She knew something was wrong and he just wasn’t telling her. At this point she had forgotten about their fight and was concerned about her best friend.
“I’m really sick,” he said.
“I know you are; I took the hint from you vomiting.”
“No,” he mumbled, “I’m really sick. I haven’t told anyone what I’m about to tell you.”
Her heart started racing as she swallowed hard. “What is it?” she whispered.
He looked her directly in the eye. “I’m HIV positive. I found out three weeks ago. It’s gonna kill me.”
She was in utter shock. Words scrambled through her mind but none could connect with her lips. Was she hearing him correctly? She felt like fainting, but also like hugging him. She wanted to extract the disease from his weak body and burn it to the ground. He didn’t deserve this, no one did. But he was such a great person; he disguised his hurt through bitterness.
When she could find the words, she spoke them quietly. “Was it…?” she trailed off.
He looked at her, his eyes displaying his vulnerability. “Yeah.”
She was silent again. Her head, however, was pounding. She kneeled and pulled him in tight for a hug. They stayed like that for a bit, tears rolling down both their faces. When he finally pulled away, she looked at him with sadness evident on her face. She hated the world, hated the person who gave it to him, hated that these diseases were even being spread. She also knew that this was something he couldn’t talk his way out of, he was stuck with it forever, and it was going to be the end of him.
One-Eighty
This was the happiest she had been in a while. It seemed like everything was finally clicking into place after the past few months where her life had seemed to fall apart more and more as the days went on. However, this is how it had started off before, she reminded herself. Before her life fell apart, it had been stellar. She was accepted socially by everyone, gaining friends by the days. The boys had also started taking more of a notice to her. She was also doing well in school and her future was looking clear.
Unfortunately, this new exciting life of hers was also the beginning of the fast one. She started experiencing everything her parents had warned her about: drugs, alcohol, crime, and the nights that she could not remember. And that’s where the beginning of the end could be found.
Drunken hookups had become a regular thing for her on the weekends; she stopped caring about her morals or pride and just racked up the numbers. Though that all changed one night, her fun was about to come to a screeching halt.
It started off with her meeting her usual group of friends, sharing a few beers, cigarettes and joints. The weather wasn’t too cold since it was only the beginning of November and the weather had been unusually warm. Because of this, everyone gathered at a local park that was somewhat secluded. As the night carried on, everyone went along and did their own thing. Fearing having the police being called on such a large group of people, she went off with several friends to one of their houses. The drinking continued and good decisions became a rarity. Hours passed before all of her friends left, leaving her alone at one of the boys’ houses with only him. He suggested things; she went along with them and would later regret them in the end. But at that time there was enough alcohol flowing through her body to make anything seem like a good idea, even giving up her innocence to a guy who was only going to use her for the night.
With that one poor decision followed a stream of consequences. It started off with her two best friends, one of which had a major crush on her, refusing to speak with her, the guy ignoring her for a month, and a brief phone call from the doctor telling her that she contracted an STD. That news had taken the greatest toll on her, even though she didn’t show it. Her grades dropped, her self-esteem plummeted, her dreams changed, and her old ways worsened. She felt completely alone. There was no one she could comfortably tell; she had to hide it from her family.
Months had passed and things had slowly fallen back into place—it was never going to be the same or feel the same again, she knew that, but this was as close as it was going to get. She stopped smoking and drinking, focused more in school, got back into sports, and focused on becoming a better person. During this process, she began to date the boy who had been her best friend and despite their numerous stupid little fights, she was happier with him than she ever was before.
Unfortunately, this new exciting life of hers was also the beginning of the fast one. She started experiencing everything her parents had warned her about: drugs, alcohol, crime, and the nights that she could not remember. And that’s where the beginning of the end could be found.
Drunken hookups had become a regular thing for her on the weekends; she stopped caring about her morals or pride and just racked up the numbers. Though that all changed one night, her fun was about to come to a screeching halt.
It started off with her meeting her usual group of friends, sharing a few beers, cigarettes and joints. The weather wasn’t too cold since it was only the beginning of November and the weather had been unusually warm. Because of this, everyone gathered at a local park that was somewhat secluded. As the night carried on, everyone went along and did their own thing. Fearing having the police being called on such a large group of people, she went off with several friends to one of their houses. The drinking continued and good decisions became a rarity. Hours passed before all of her friends left, leaving her alone at one of the boys’ houses with only him. He suggested things; she went along with them and would later regret them in the end. But at that time there was enough alcohol flowing through her body to make anything seem like a good idea, even giving up her innocence to a guy who was only going to use her for the night.
With that one poor decision followed a stream of consequences. It started off with her two best friends, one of which had a major crush on her, refusing to speak with her, the guy ignoring her for a month, and a brief phone call from the doctor telling her that she contracted an STD. That news had taken the greatest toll on her, even though she didn’t show it. Her grades dropped, her self-esteem plummeted, her dreams changed, and her old ways worsened. She felt completely alone. There was no one she could comfortably tell; she had to hide it from her family.
Months had passed and things had slowly fallen back into place—it was never going to be the same or feel the same again, she knew that, but this was as close as it was going to get. She stopped smoking and drinking, focused more in school, got back into sports, and focused on becoming a better person. During this process, she began to date the boy who had been her best friend and despite their numerous stupid little fights, she was happier with him than she ever was before.
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