This is the story of how you broke me.
We met in high school. I was 17 years old, my clothes were ripped and I smoked a lot of cigarettes. You walked in through the doors and didn’t look at me. I was sitting on the couch pretending I was someone else, thinking it was 1975. Your hair was short and it fell on your eyes beautifully, shadowing your soul. From beneath the hair I could tell you had the most beautiful eyes, shining, furiously firing – your soul.
After each class I would look for you, find a place where I could stare at you without looking suspicious. I avoided the cafeteria, I couldn’t be around that many people. My mind was broken and only you could heal it. You were so lean and beautiful, like a model. I stopped eating and withered away, my leather jacket got too big for me and my jeans too baggy. You still didn’t look at me.
Lying on my bed, tears in my eyes, staring at the wall, all I could think of was you. How I needed you. I popped a cigarette in my mouth and lit it, hoping it would light up my bed and burn me away.
Then it happened. It was the last seat available, and you were late. I was nervous as you sat down. You said hi, I tried uttering a word of some sort, but it got stuck in the void that was my mind, my mouth could not follow with everything that needed to be said, so I just said nothing. You looked at me from the corner of your eye, and saw my purple eyebags, my cheeks so caved in you could almost see all my bones.
We started writing. All my stories were of you but you couldn’t understand. Maybe you didn’t want to. I tried making it clear, but how would I write down something so complex, a feeling that can’t be described?
Each class I felt so happy and nauseated at the same time. It was the best time of my life. I ate again. I had fruits and vegetables and washed my hair.
One day you didn’t show up.
Where is she, I demanded, tears in my eyes. Everyone was looking at me. Had I lost it? Where is she, I screamed. Nobody answered and I ran. I ran until I couldn’t run anymore, ran into the shore and tried to submerge myself in the steel grey water.
Later I learned you had started working and wouldn’t be back. Most of my hair had fallen off. The void in my mind grew larger each day, the darkness inside my soul deeper than ever before. I needed you, I told myself and tried convicing myself that one day you’d be back, and then we’d be together, I’d ask you out of course, you’d take me, we’d be together happily ever after.
I popped a pill in my mouth every couple hours. When it didn’t work anymore, I increased the dose. I was barely there. I was staring into the ceiling of my bedroom, lying on the floor in the midst of garbage and pictures of you that I printed from the internet. My lips were chapped and my eyes red. I couldn’t be without you.
But finally you called.