different hope
I think the air is better. There’s something better from when I saw Suna, talked to him, to now, in my bed and waking up with drool coating my pillow. All I know is that I like it here. I like being here more than before.
Maybe my therapist was right, it gets better… eventually. Eventually is now. Now is the day that I have love, more than I did growing up. And I don’t have my mother, no father, no high school friends, no pets, and all of the good memories were tainted the moment I healed- But now, now is so different because someone talked to me- Someone who didn’t comment on my scars, finally talked to me.
“What?” She watches as I smile just from the bird shitting on our plant outside- The plant her father gave her. “Nothing…” She rolls her eyes playfully. “Well, at least I know you’re up for the date tonight.“ My brows furrow, and she cackles. “I knew it, you were on people's bliss.” “People’s bliss?” She hums, sipping the iced coffee as I drag my gaze away from our balcony view. “Yeah. I used to have a friend who got it. She said, ‘I feed off of other’s energies because it’s better for me to find happiness elsewhere- to know there is somewhere else to love. Who will love.’ Doesn’t roll off the tongue, but it is a great representation that you’re happy for your life.” Her voice echoes as she sips from the tiny cup again, setting it down.
“Oh.. this is a good thing, right?” She smiles, a tiny chuckle leaving her lips. “Yes, N/n. Better than good- As long as you don’t depend on this person too much and make their emotions become yours- control yours. Okay?” I nod quickly, inhaling and changing the subject. “So, that double date though-” “Ignore every feeling you have about it, N/n, it’ll be funnnnn! Promise.” She winks, knowing that my face is turned in disgust at the mention of socializing. “But Beth-” “Trust me, you’re going to like it. And if you don’t, there will be a bar with a fine gentleman there.” She chuckles as you pretend to gag, standing up in your shirt and panties. “Okay, but-” “No buts! We’re together tonight!”
And she was right, you two were together tonight, just in different locations because some fancy, rich people decided that you two were good enough for their liking. Poor enough to spoil, at least that’s what you told Bethany, her hands soaking as she uses the washrag to dry her hands. “N/n, be nice. I think you’ll like them.” You roll your eyes. Ever the pessimist, you hear your mother’s voice. It scares you, mouth quickly moving to reply to the brunette. “Isn’t this a blind date?” She pauses, setting the towel down and checking out her rosy silk dress. It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. “I know that her hair is wavy and long and pink… And her cousin will be nice for you, I think.” She’s now focusing on you, and the way you’re dressed.
Because you are different, everyone in their life changes, and you’re the one person that’s just starting to accept it again. But now, it’s you. You have to accept that there is something -no matter how small or big that something may be- that changed about you. You want to believe you’re not that little girl anymore, watching her mother scream and break everything, watching someone make fun of their appearance, not the person who wears baggy clothes to hide them. And they, honestly, are scary today, every day- But you’re afraid that if they change size, decreasing so much that the fear in your stomach, as your fingers trace the prints, leaves you, and then you changed too much- You shouldn’t have changed at all.
“Y/n?” You’re back at home, in the car in your driveway, watching your mother’s eyes burn hotels into your head. “I need you to answer me.” You thought she’d hug you in the car, whisper sickly reassurance you’ve always wanted, give you fast food you know you two shouldn’t have since you’re on a budget, and for once, she’d apologize. No, you didn’t think, you hoped. Your hope is only lies that you force yourself to hold onto. Because, maybe, just maybe, instead of the thought ‘you shouldn’t have been born’ your mind will let you realize ‘your mother shouldn’t have been your mother- you shouldn’t have had to deal with such trauma’.
“I’m sorry, what-” “Jesus, Y/n. I told you that you can’t do this, okay? I told you that my reputation has to hold or else- What will happen to us?” You, you want to scream, you mean what will happen to you and the edge of comfort you’re sitting on. Because I never mattered to you, and I hate that you will never feel the anger I feel. But I love you so fucking much that I’d stop if you’d just say something good. “You know insurance doesn’t cover mental health hospitals- And your future is already down the drain, so just-” “I’m not going to stop.”
Fear was never your mother’s friend, it was a leech. It started as a child when your father left, and it only grew in size until she wasn’t there anymore. There were no homemade breakfasts, and no help with homework unless you wanted to cry from her. There was no more happy mom that everyone else got. Everyone got to her niceness, her love, and you wanted that so bad that your hope was starting to sound like fear. You didn’t want to be her. Hopefully, this would help. “Excuse-” “I don’t want to be alive, ma, so why are the first words to me not about my well-being-” “Because I’m-” “I’m the one hurting myself! You are causing all of my fucking pain, ma! I don’t want to be here- anywhere on the Earth I don’t want to be with you because you’re just like your fucking mother- And I swear, one day-”
“One day when I’ve left and made a life for myself and make more money than you ever would’ve, that’s the day you’ll want to change yourself… That’s the day that I won’t want to die, I’ll want to see you regret everything you said to me because you were not supposed to be my mom- anyone’s mom, you shouldn’t be!” I’m close to sobbing, tears coating my chubby cheeks- the fat she hates. “I…” Want to reverse time? “Will never hate you the way you hate me, but you have made yourself unforgivable, ma, and I do hope somewhere in your twisted life you realize that.”
Endroit Riche, they’re big fancy letters that shout money out from the fairy lights to the new tables. It makes that one memory burn in your mind. Your mom would’ve loved this. “Okay?” You could hear her voice, the four words she let you hold. “It’ll all” The way you let her hug you one more time. “be okay,” her voice was pained and you had finally gotten your braces off. You had changed, and that was the beginning of your happy ending.
“Yeah, very okay with this.” She chuckles, gripping your hand and smiling into your eyes. “Good, because we’re ten minutes late-” “Bethany!”