Part 9

The social worker looks at me as if I was trash. I try to purge myself but all that comes out is filth, I can’t open my mouth without the filth pouring out. The clean, white halls in this building mirror my image, my shattered image, my lips are chapped and I weigh 38 kilos. You’ve arranged this for me, you’ve arranged for all these sessions, you’ve arranged for my health to be looked after, but I don’t think they can help me, I don’t need help. All I need is for you to come back.

The social worker tries to calm me down but I punch her in the face, I can feel my wrist breaking, the last of my heart go dark.

You run to the police station, you yell at me, you cover me in your arms and kiss me, all I can do is punch myself, again and again, you’ve come back but your face is disappointed, I can’t stand to see you this way.

 

Finally you’re back. Last year of med school, you’re about to graduate, you’ve bought us a beautiful apartment by the lake, you’ve got flowers in your hair and mascara around your soul, you’re about to save people’s lives, you stroke my hair while we watch the sunset. I curl up into a ball, so safe, so secure, falling through your arms.

You hide the letters that come in. From the police, from the social workers, from schools and jobs you’ve tried to get me into. I don’t need to see them to know what they say, they state I’m a failure, I’m a nuisance, I shouldn’t be allowed to live if I’m only going to waste precious tax dollars. I cry, I can’t help it, I can’t help to be a disappointment to everyone. I really try, I tell you and you know I’m telling the truth, you can always tell if I’m telling the truth.

When you finally graduate we have everything. We have the apartment, we have each other, you’re making money, I’m wasting tax dollars. You organize the flowers every day, I don’t understand how you have energy after a long work day, I barely have energy to take a shower before I go to the balcony to smoke. You tell me to keep hanging on, you keep telling me one day everything’s going to be beautiful, that one day we’ll fix me, that one day I’m going to have it all.

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