“Oh, go kill yourself!”

He meant it as a joke

which is why, probably,

they don’t understand the way she reacts

Why she sits upright and clenches the armrests of her chair so hard

that her knuckles are white

and why she snaps at them

“Don’t joke about that.”

 

She won’t remember

But even though she will not remember

she cannot forget

 

She can’t forget when she led a double life

It was the best of times

It was the worst of times

And she loathes, loathes, loathes to be so cliche

But sometimes it is positively unavoidable

 

Those were her golden days

Gold, gold, gold

Literally so

Golden lights, golden sunshine, golden fireflies

Golden hair in golden rooms filled with golden hazes in golden dreams

Nothing gold can stay…

 

Times of dreams come true;

Times when it could not be and yet,

somehow, impossibly,

it almost was

 

Times of spinning hugs,

long, soft gazes,

brushes of electric touch and

quiet, dark car rides,

the air filled with a tension that didn’t feel at all bad

the way most tension did

Times of falling into his arms

being swept off her feet

 

Nothing gold can stay…

Times of screaming

The world collapsing in on her

Her blood turning to ice, then lead

Crippling, paralyzing terror

Home alone

begging God to give her the right words

begging him to stay

Times of sobbing wildly until she couldn’t breathe

hunching over

scratching at her arms

tearing at her hair

trying not to throw up

With no idea who to call, who to tell

as time runs out, as he tells her these horrible things, tries to tell her goodbye

 

She got lucky. He stayed

It happened again

and again

and again

She doesn't remember every individual time

because it goes on for so

so

long

nearly a year, in fact

She is honestly not sure

how she made it through

how either of them did, really

 

Blurs of exhaustion, weeping, crippling nausea from the sheer stress

broken bleeding shattered hearts tattered and twisted and torn apart broken bleeding shattered hearts tattered and twisted and torn apart broken bleeding shattered hearts tattered and twisted and torn apart

Of frayed nerves and sickness and fighting

 

Fighting to keep him alive

Fighting herself

Fighting with what to do, who to tell

 

How does one decide how to lose their best friend?

By betraying his trust and by making him hate you

or by saying nothing and letting him die?

 

She gives herself credit for getting him through,

spinning words together in a desperate attempt to keep him alive

but it is the other she who saves him eventually,

saves him the way she knows she never can

But it does not matter, in that moment,

that he will never love her

at least, that’s what she whispers to herself in the dark of night as she claws at the sheets and stifles her sobs

because she can’t make him happy that way

but this new girl can

and at least he is alive

 

It has taken so, so long

but, at last, they both begin to heal

Her nightmares leave her life,

retreating back into her sleep

where they belong

But she will never stop being scared or scarred

and it is for this reason that she feels twice as heavy by the time the year is out than when it began

and it is for this reason that she will clench the armrests of her chair

and snap at those who make jokes

because some things

are

not

funny.