Trust me, babe

Chapter 32

Kathryn

It was sunny outside and through the window I could hear noises of people. Noises of happy people talking and laughing as they walked down the street. Everyone seemed to be together with someone. Everyone seemed to be happy. Everyone except me.

Our apartment felt like an island of darkness, loneliness and pain in the middle of the ocean of shiny happy people. An island everyone had forgotten. Everyone except me. I couldn't forget it; I was trapped here, I was a prisoner on the island of loneliness. I was just as forgotten as the island itself.

Or maybe we weren't forgotten. Maybe no one just cared. After all it seemed to be my fate that no one cared, truly cared. My own mother hadn't cared; she had left me. My so-called boyfriend hadn't cared; he had betrayed me. And my so-called friend hadn't cared; she, too, had betrayed me. If even they hadn't cared then why would anyone else?

I was sitting inside on our living room couch, staring blankly at the wall in front of me. I had switched on the TV to drive away the silence and make me feel less lonely. But I wasn't really watching it. I couldn't concentrate. My mind was far away, far away thinking about my life, my life which felt like a long bumpy road which only revealed a new landfill every time it took a turn.

My eyes wandered from the wall onto the armchair and the coffee table. Just a while ago the armchair had been full of Jacky's clothes and the coffee table had been covered by Kenzie's fashion magazines and other stuff. My fingers found their way onto the couch I was sitting on, brushing it gently. Just a while ago I couldn't have sat on the couch as it had been Jacky's bed.

Kenzie had been trying to reach me all morning and I could still hear my ringtone ringing in my head. I hadn't answered her. I had just sat there next to my phone, watching it ring, watching Kenzie's name pop on the screen again and again. Did she really think I'd answer her? Why would I?

There was nothing she could say to make things better, nothing she could say to explain. And I didn't want to hear her apologies, her vain apologies. They were just words. Why should I trust them to be true? Why should I trust she regretted what she had done, that she had changed now? There was no way I could trust her ever again.

And I didn't have anything to say to her. Or I did but I wasn't sure I'd be able to say any of that. I was afraid I'd just seize up and be unable to say anything at all. I might just start crying and make a fool of myself, embarrass myself. I might even seem like I had forgiven her, like there was peace now. But there wasn't. And there would never be.

Even if I did manage to say something it would probably be just some unclear, incoherent mumbling. And would it even make any difference if I did tell her all I felt? With all the knowledge she already had of me and my past she should be able to understand how broken I was — and that it was partly her fault. She hadn't cared before, why should she care now.

It was better for me to just cut off all contact with her, to lock her out of my life. I would no longer be there when she tried to reach me. I would no longer be open to her. I would no longer care. From now on I would play distant to her. She had betrayed me and she no longer had a place in the inner circle of my life. My inner circle which had never been very crowded and was starting to look very empty now.

After five unanswered calls the messages had started coming, message after message of Kenzie pleading for me to answer. I hadn't opened any of them. Why didn't she just understand this was over? Why didn't she just give up? And how dare she ask me if I was alright? How dare she be worried something had happened that I didn't answer? Of course I wasn't alright. And it was her fault I wasn't.