You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling
The next evening, Elphaba sat alone in the dimly lit bathroom, their back pressed against the cold tiled wall. The light from the small overhead bulb flickers occasionally, casting fleeting shadows across their face. Their thoughts were a storm, crashing and colliding in their mind, each one louder and more suffocating than the last.
The weight of everything—Glinda's words, their own feelings, the constant rejection from society—pressed down on their chest like a physical force. Elphaba clenched their hands into fists, nails digging into their palms until they left crescent-shaped marks. But the sting wasn’t enough. It didn’t drown out the thoughts screaming in their head.
'You’ll never be enough.'
'How could she ever love someone like you? You'll ruin her image.'
'You’ll always be the outcast, the monster, the thing people turn away from.'
The memory of Glinda’s soft confession echoed in her mind: “I’m scared of what society would think… how they’d treat me.” The truth of those words were undeniable, but it also felt like a dagger to Elphaba’s chest. They weren't angry at Glinda—how could they be? Glinda’s fears were valid, born from the same oppressive system that had always shunned them for their differences. But it still hurts. It hurt to know that no matter how deeply they cared for Glinda, no matter how much they wanted to be enough, the world would always find a way to wedge itself between them.
Elphaba's gaze dropped to their hands, trembling slightly. They could still feel the ghost of Glinda’s touch from the other night—the hesitant kiss, the way Glinda had pulled them close, only for them to push her away. It was maddening, this endless cycle of hope and heartbreak. Elphaba felt like they were unraveling, like every thread inside them was being pulled loose until there was nothing left but raw, exposed emptiness.
They stood abruptly, breathing shallow, and moved toward the sink. Their reflection in the mirror stared back at them, unkind and unforgiving. Sharp cheekbones, the unnatural green of their skin, the constant reminder that they didn’t belong. Elphaba hated it. They hated themselves. And they hated that they couldn’t stop loving someone who might never fully love them in return.
Elphaba opened the drawer beneath the sink, fingers fumbling slightly as they pulled out a small blade—a leftover from one of Glinda’s beauty kits, likely used for trimming stray threads on clothes or fixing accessories. Their hands shook as they held it, the cold metal pressing against their fingertips.
They didn’t want to hurt themselves, not really. But the pain in Elphaba's chest, the ache that refused to subside, needed an outlet. It was too much, too overwhelming. Maybe if they focused on something tangible, something physical, they could quiet the chaos going on in their mind. Maybe, just for a moment, they could feel something different—something they could control.
Elphaba dragged the blade lightly across their arm, a shallow line that stung but didn’t break the skin deeply. They winced at the sensation, breath hitching as the sharpness registered. It was a distraction, a temporary moment of clarity in the sea of emotional turmoil. But it wasn’t enough.
The second pass was deeper, drawing a thin line of red that dripped slowly down their arm. Their chest heaved as the physical pain mixed with the emotional storm, their mind racing with a hundred thoughts they couldn’t quiet. 'You deserve this,' one voice whispered cruelly. 'This is what you get for hoping, for wanting something you can’t have.'
But another voice, softer, fought back. 'Don't do this. You’re better than this. You just… don’t know how to handle it.'
Elphaba sank to the floor, the blade slipping from their hand and clattering onto the tiles. They pressed their back against the wall, cradling their arm as if it were a newborn baby, and stared blankly at the streak of blood trailing down their skin. Tears blurred their vision as they struggled to breathe, chest rising and falling erratically.
“I don’t know how to stop this,” they whispered to the empty room, their voice breaking. “I don’t know how to stop feeling.”
Their thoughts spiraled further, a mix of despair and guilt overtaking them. They hated themself for resorting to this, for letting themself fall so far. They hated that they couldn’t be stronger, couldn’t be what Glinda needed, couldn’t just let go of their feelings and move on. And yet, they also hated the part of themself that still clung to hope—the part that wanted so desperately to believe they could be loved, despite everything.
Glinda was about to stand up when she heard a faint noise—a soft sob. It came from the bathroom . Glinda froze, her heart racing. She had heard Elphaba cry before, but never like this—desperate, broken, as if they couldn’t hold it in anymore.
Without thinking, Glinda rushed to their door, knocking softly but urgently. “Elphaba?” she called, her voice trembling. “Elphaba, are you okay?”
There was a long pause. The sobs stopped, and for a moment, everything felt impossibly still. Then, she heard it—the sound of something sharp hitting the floor, followed by a quiet, strangled gasp.
She pushed the door open, just enough to see Elphaba sitting with their back against the wall, face hidden in their hands. Blood trickled from a wound on their arm, the sight making Glinda’s stomach turn.
“Elphie!” she cried, rushing to their side. Her hands shook as she gently pulled their arms away from their face, her eyes scanning their tear-streaked features. "Elphie, what did you do?”
For a long moment, Elphaba didn’t speak. The silence was thick, suffocating. Then, finally, Elphaba let out a shuddering breath, their voice barely above a whisper. “It’s nothing,” they muttered, their voice hoarse. “It wasn’t enough to do anything. I just… I just wanted to stop feeling for a while.”
Glinda’s chest tightened as tears filled her eyes. “Elphaba, no. Why… why didn’t you tell me?”
“I—” Elphaba choked, their voice raw and broken. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I didn’t want you to know... how weak I am.”
"“No," she said softly, her voice shaking with the weight of her worry. She cupped their face, forcing them to look at her. “You’re not weak. You’re hurting, and that’s okay. I’m here. I'm not going to leave you."
Elphaba looked at her doubtfully, “But I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be what you need me to be.”
Glinda’s brow furrowed, confusion clouding her thoughts. “What do you mean? You are… you are everything I need.”
Elphaba shook their head, a harsh exhale escaping their lips. “No, I’m not. I’m broken, Glinda. I’m not what you deserve. I… I keep thinking maybe if I could just be enough for you, you wouldn’t look at me the way you do. Maybe if I could just be someone else, someone you could really love, you wouldn’t have to run away every time things get too real.”
Glinda’s heart cracked at the pain in their voice, “You don’t have to be anyone else, Elphie,” she said softly. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you. All of you. Your flaws, your mess, your anger. Everything.”
Elphaba shook their head, their expression crumbling. “You don’t understand. You’re everything I want, and I’m everything the world hates. You’d be better off without me. You’d be happier if I just—”
“Stop it!” Glinda’s voice cracked, raw with desperation. “Don’t you dare say that! You think I’d be happier losing you? You think I could just move on and be fine without you here? Please, Elphie, don’t do this to yourself. And remember what you told me yesterday? "The world isn't against you," well, neither is it for you."
"But you don't know all that I've been through. All your life you've been surrounded by people who constantly love you, would do whatever you say or ask. For me, people have always hated me, not bothered to see past my skin, always bullied and judged, and my own father doesn't even like me! What reason do I have being here if all I cause is problems?!"
Elphaba’s sobs broke free, and Glinda pulled them into her arms, holding them tightly as they cried. “Elphie..” Glinda breathed, her voice gentle but firm. “You're not a problem. You’re not hated. And you're definitely not broken. You’re just hurting. And I don’t need you to be anyone else. I just need you to be with me. To let me help. Please. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right if you’ll let me. But you can’t give up, Elphie. Please, I need you."
Elphaba didn’t respond, their body shaking against Glinda’s. But eventually, their arms came up to cling to her, their grip desperate, as though she were the only thing keeping them grounded.
“I’m sorry,” Elphaba choked out. “I’m so sorry.”
Glinda pressed her cheek against the top of their head, tears slipping down her face. “You don’t have to be sorry. You’re allowed to feel hurt, my dear. You’re allowed to need help. Just… promise me you’ll let me help you, okay? Promise me you won’t try this again.”
Elphaba pulled back slightly, their red-rimmed eyes searching Glinda’s face. “I promise,” they whispered. “...for you.”
"No, no, not for me," she said, "you have to do it for yourself. You have to believe that you can get better, and that won't work if you're doing it just because I asked you to. You have to want this for yourself too."
"I do," they sniffled. "I promise you I do."