An Arcane Scrapbook Collection

DWC /// Day 29 - There's nothing left

CW: talks about depression

I reached my all time low when I was just 15. Life... wasn't great. I lived with my parents at the time, too awkward to be able to form bonds quickly and even those I did manage to make never lasted, meaning I spent most of my teen years alone.

Not that that helped strengthen my bond with my family though, seeing as I spent most of my days locked away in my room, only coming out once every few days to get something to eat when the hunger became too much. And despite all that 'free time', my grades were terrible, dragged down by the ever lessening hours of sleep which I spent staring apathetically at a screen.

I looked in the mirror, and all I saw was failure. A fake, useless, waste of space. Undeserving to even live.

I was close to the edge... only holding on to the flicker of hope that it would change. That it would get better.

And it did...

As my family said, I 'grew out of it'. Got 'my shit together'. Put in the final effort and managed to barely graduate. It wasn't much, but I found a job, and along the way even made a few friends. One of which I ended up getting close with.

A friendship that grew into a relationship and eventually we fell in love. They were blissful years we spent together, barely getting by, but we were happy. Until one summer evening, when he got down on one knee, and finally asked those beautiful words...

"Will you marry me?"

Yes.

Next thing I know, we're getting married. I didn't feel nervous, or nostalgic... strangely enough, I didn't feel much at all. All I knew was that I wanted him, and he wanted me. And that's what mattered.

Maybe we should've waited to be better off. But what's the point in waiting... Right?

It wasn't much, but we moved in together into a skimpy apartment in the outskirts of the city. The first few years were strangely the best. Despite our poor living conditions, we made the best of it. I was still looking for work at the time, and he worked decent hours, so we got to spend a lot of time with each other.

We even started discussing the possibility of pets, or even children. But not long after, I got a job offer that would consume most of my time. I didn't think it through, and I took it.

I worked long hours with no end for months, too busy focused on work to realise how much things were changing. But I couldn't worry about that. Everything would pay off and fall into place soon enough.

But even after we moved into the new apartment in the centre and our well being improved significantly, it didn't change the fact we barely saw each other anymore.

And before I knew it, I'm 30. Working full-time hours, only to come home to an empty house, because my husband went out with friends yet again after getting bored of waiting on me.

'It will get better' I think to myself and thus I leave it be. Until one day he comes home drunk at early hours of the morning and the situation escalates...

We fight. We scream. I cry.

And we never talk about it again. Maybe if I don't think about it... it will go away. Maybe if I give him some space, he'll remember how much he loves me and come back to me.

But days turn into weeks and we keep drifting apart. All I can do is watch as the love of my life slips right through my fingers. Our moments together are stale and awkward, like we're strangers...

But we're not.

Why didn't I fight it. Why didn't I fight... Why didn't I fight for us, like I fought for myself all those years ago. I guess I'm too tired now.

In one final attempt to reconcile. I confront him. And he admits.

Those cursed words I never thought I'd hear coming from his lips.

"I don't love you anymore..."

What happens after is just a blur. All I remember is him handing me the papers before leaving our home with his belongings. Leaving me in a house full of my failures and regrets. Leaving me in the place that took everything from me. Leaving me... alone.

The only few times I saw him after that was for the finalisation of the divorce. It was a smooth process. I didn't want to fight, so I agreed to all his terms. At least I could give him that bit of satisfaction.

He's with someone else now. They seem happy together from what I could tell. He's smiling again. Just like he had all those years back when we just met. But now I'm not the one that smile belongs to.

I always thought I was stronger alone, capable of taking care of myself. And it's in his absence that I realise how wrong I was. I started noticing the patterns again. First the loss of appetite, then the nightmares which force all nighters spent working or studying to keep busy.

Anything not to feel that way again.

Next thing I know I'm taking pills. They help me sleep when it gets too much, but it's in those days that I'm unable to drag myself out of bed, which results in too much work lost.

This continued long enough for my boss to request me to leave. And I did. It's not like I deserved that job anyway...

So here I stand, 20 years later, in front of the same mirror I stood before when I was 15. So much time went by, so much happened, some good things, some bad... but in the end, I really didn't change much at all, did I... and I thought I was worthless back then... God, look at me now...

I'm so close to the edge... but this time the flicker of hope faded. There's nothing left. 

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Circular stories~~ That was the prompt :3