01/10/2023
Stepping into the dim, grey room, a shaky sigh escaped my already dry and chapped lips. The walls felt like they were closing in on me, the air thick and heavy, suffocating my every breath.
It felt like I was falling apart.
I couldn't breathe.
My chest felt as though it was caving in, weighed down by an unbearable burden, crushing me from within. Every heartbeat was a struggle, a reminder of the void growing inside me. In that moment, existing felt impossibly hard, as if the very act of being was too much to bear.
My phone buzzed relentlessly with countless messages and missed calls, each notification a sharp reminder of the life I was supposed to be living, the life I felt so detached from. Even the thought of picking it up drained the last remaining ounces of energy I had left. It felt easier to stay numb, to just... retreat into this emptiness.
"Why..." The word trembled as it left my lips, barely audible, my voice cracking with the weight of the emotions I couldn't escape. I slid down the wooden door, my back hitting the cold surface, and hugged my knees to my chest, my hands instinctively clutching the aching space where my heart used to be.
Why... Why is it so hard to find someone in this world who truly understands me? Who sees me, not as a fragile thing to break, but as someone who deserves love, respect, and care?I rolled up my sleeves, the fabric brushing against the raw skin that had become a canvas of painful reminders — deep, lingering marks etched into my skin, the remnants of him.
Why?
Was it because I wanted to break up?
Because, for once, I dared to think of myself, to consider my own happiness instead of just his?
Because, for the first time, I finally realized my worth, even if he never could?The same question haunts me, echoing in my mind like a broken record, playing over and over again, relentless.
Do I even deserve this?
"You don't..."
The voice in the back of my mind always answers, low and unforgiving. It cuts through the haze of my thoughts like a knife, a cold truth I can't escape. It's the only voice that breaks through the chaos, the noise of everything else, and strangely, it's the only one that calms me, offering a fleeting sense of peace, a momentary break from the storm. In the midst of all this, it's the only thing that feels real.
But just as the weight of it all threatens to pull me deeper into the dark, Max's voice breaks through the silence, grounding me back to the present. "Nance, hey! You okay? What's going on?" Her voice is soft but filled with concern, pulling me out of my spiral, forcing me to focus on her, not the mess inside my head.
I blinked up at her, momentarily disoriented. Max had this uncanny ability to see right through me, to notice the smallest change in my demeanor. She knew me better than anyone else. She knew this wasn't me — the me who was always lively, full of energy, and eager to stir trouble, to make every moment an adventure. It wasn't like me to be like this, to slip into this darkness without warning.
She crouched down in front of me, her eyes narrowing with concern. "Is it... him?" she whispered, her voice gentle but heavy with understanding.
I flinched at the mention of my boyfriend, the man who had once promised me everything, only to leave me shattered every time. I turned away, biting my lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to break free. I couldn't let her see how broken I was. How much I wished I could just escape the never-ending cycle of disappointment.
Max's jaw tightened, a muscle in her cheek twitching in anger — not at me, but for me. It wasn't the first time my relationships had left me like this, bruised and battered emotionally. It was the third time now. The third man who had taken, drained me dry, and left me wondering if I would ever know what it felt like to be truly loved. She was tired. Tired of seeing me in pain, tired of watching me make the same mistakes, tired of seeing me give pieces of myself to people who didn't deserve them.
She was angry, but it wasn't at me. Max knew the truth. She knew why I kept falling into the same traps. Sometimes, she blamed me for trusting too easily, for giving too much, but deep down, she understood why I did it. I just wanted to be seen, to be loved for who I was, to find someone who would stay. So she swallowed her frustration, let it go, and chose instead to be the person who always showed up for me, the one who never gave up on me.
"Let's grab lunch and talk it out, okay?" she said softly, her tone coaxing, comforting. Without waiting for an answer, she gently patted my back, guiding me to my feet. Her presence was a lifeline, something solid to cling to in a world that was anything but. She didn't ask for permission. She simply took control and led me down the college hallway, away from the crushing weight of my thoughts.
Max and I had been inseparable for as long as I could remember. Growing up together in the quiet countryside near Boston, we had been more than just best friends; we were each other's family. The world may have spun around us, changed, thrown curveballs at us, but we were always there — for each other, no matter what.When it was time to chase our dreams, we packed up our lives and left the comfort of the countryside behind, moving to the city to attend Boston University. Now in our senior year, life had become a whirlwind — endless study sessions, grueling sports practices (which were my domain), and part-time jobs just to keep the lights on.
We were opposites in almost every way. I was the extrovert, the one who trusted too easily, always wearing my heart on my sleeve, vulnerable and open, letting people in even when they didn't deserve it(according to Max).
Max, on the other hand, was my perfect counterbalance. She was reserved, deliberate in her actions, thoughtful and careful before she made a move. Where I dove headfirst into things, Max would pause, take a step back, and assess everything carefully, making sure she wasn't being swept away by the current.
But that was what made us work. Despite our differences, we complemented each other effortlessly. Max kept me grounded, reminded me to think things through before jumping in, while I pushed her to take risks, to embrace life, to step out of her comfort zone. Through all the chaos, all the ups and downs, the laughter and tears, we had always been enough for each other.
We were each other's constant, and that was something I could count on, even when everything else felt uncertain.
"I'm so tired, Max. How much farther?" I muttered, dragging my feet as I struggled to keep up with her brisk pace. My legs felt like lead, each step a challenge, the exhaustion seeping deep into my bones. The weight of my duffel bag hung heavily over my shoulder, and I couldn't help but feel every inch of the miles we'd walked.
The city streets were crowded, the midday rush in full swing, with people hustling through their day—rushing to work, running errands, and just living their lives in their own little worlds.
Max, on the other hand, was a blur of energy beside me, weaving effortlessly through the crowd, her eyes scanning the storefronts like she was hunting for something important. She didn't seem the least bit tired. She had this way of moving through the chaos, her presence sharp and focused, while I felt like I was drowning in it all.The sidewalks were filled with strangers, their faces blank, absorbed in their phones or lost in conversation.
The air buzzed with the sounds of city life—car engines honking, street vendors calling out their sales pitches, and the rhythmic beat of footsteps blending into a constant hum. The smell of food carts mixed with the city's usual blend of exhaust and concrete, the sun casting harsh shadows between the tall buildings that seemed to scrape the sky.It was all so overwhelming, this fast-paced, bustling world, where everyone seemed to be living for themselves, consumed by their own wants and needs. I couldn't help but feel like an outsider, like I was just a small part of a much bigger machine that didn't really care about me.
The memories from my past—faces, words, promises broken—flashed through my mind in an instant, and I felt a tightness in my chest. The ache of it all, the feeling of being left behind, of being unseen, swelled within me.
But just as the wave of sadness started to pull me under, Max's voice broke through the fog of my thoughts, steady and calming.
"Not much longer, Nance," she said, her tone as casual as ever, like the world was nothing more than a playground to her.
She didn't need to look at me to know I was struggling. Max always seemed to sense when I was slipping, when I needed grounding. I didn't understand how she did it, but somehow, she always knew how to pull me back from the brink.We pushed through the crowd together, the world continuing its frantic pace around us, but for that moment, with Max by my side, it felt like maybe, just maybe, I wasn't so alone.