"The only reason I'm coming is you," they say.
Arrival, the first attachment.
"I don't like your friends." So that's that. They are gone.
Nothing is on my own; nothing is allowed to be.
"Let's break the rules."
Punishment. Tears. Move on.
They forget about me. On my birthday. But that's ok. They probably didn't mean to.
"Don't socialize. Don't leave me. You're all I have."
But leaves me. Over and over until I can't count anymore. Until all I can see is the blur through the tears in my eyes, every night.
"I need you now." I come, running through the halls like a maniac because when those words are spoken, nothing else matters.
"I need you", I whisper, but my words don't matter because everything else is more important.
I don't know what to do. I am alone, always alone. "You can't play with us. You can't go out with us." I have no one else. I am caught.
Glares, always glares, though I don't know what I've done wrong.
I ask for things to change, but all that I get are the words, "what do you mean? Everything is fine."
Birthday celebration. Let's do something nice. Out to a restaurant, all of our friends. "Let's drink." I don't say a thing, but I sit in defiance, watching as they message each other on a group without me. Laughing, eyes rolling. At me. I go to the bathroom. When I return; stares. So many stares.
I try to speak up. To say what I feel. "You're being a mother. Leave me alone."
They are all I have. And now they don't want me.
I cry. I cry for weeks. Every evening before bed, in between classes and as I eat, alone in my room because they don't tell me when they go for food.
I have burnt all my bridges. I have given up everything, and now I am tossed away like I was never anything more than a cheap piece of paper towel.
"I need to start over." I do my best to leave. I say my sorries, over and over again, trying to change a mind that has already been made up.
I leave, but I can never go far. Those looks that turn my stomach to stone. Those whispering words. The constant racing heart, wondering whether today will be a good day, or if they will hate me again. It is so hard to tell. I can never be prepared.
"I'm leaving." I almost can't believe the words. Part of me is sad. Part of me knows it's best. We say goodbye.
"I'm coming back." I don't know what to say or hope or think. I only pray things will change. They must.
Sometimes it's love. It's joking and laughter and apologies and authenticity.
Then it's hatred, the deepest form. The projection of betrayal that boils my skin and leaves me breathless. I have not changed. But everything has.
It is whispers and gossip and the perverting of the only people I once called friends. I can do nothing.
Sometimes it's knocks on my door. It's invitations, it's "let's move on."
Then it's glares and whispers right in front of me, as though I can't hear every word.
It is secrets and exhaustion and confusion and depression.
"Help me. Someone." My words are filled with urgency. I cannot do it anymore. I cannot, I cannot, I cannot.
But the only response is "say you're sorry. Be the bigger person. No victim mindset."
How am I supposed to do this on my own?
The only people protecting me, telling me to deal with it alone. I cannot. I cannot. I cannot.
"Come back," they all say. "We need you."
I start to shake. "I needed you," I say. "And where were you?"
They were nowhere. They were protecting their money. Their reputation. Their skill. Their ability to compete. They were protecting the lives of those who spent their own life tearing others down.
"Drinking? But that's ok. They were only confused."
I cannot look in their eyes. "Would you say the same thing if it was someone else? What about me?"
What about me? Don't I matter too?
Apparently not.
