A Week With You

Hallie

I have never been one to believe in fairytales. Stories like such gives you false hope which subsequently ruins your clear vision of what life truly is. They create an idea in your head that everything will eventually come together and it will all make sense in the end. Well that is not entirely true, based on my experience nothing ever comes together nor does it ever make sense. I am done with that crap, I have been ever since I was left with nothing but myself to hold onto.

For 21 years of my life I have guarded myself and my heart from the world and it's never ending ruse. It has saved me from a boatload of tears and heartaches which I am grateful for. This tactic of mine kept me sane and grounded with the fact that I know who to trust and talk to. So far the criteria only fitted my bestfriend Sam and my grandmother. My friendship with Sam started when I caught her crying inside the bathroom of our preschool. I had asked her the reason why and I would never forget her answer...

"My dad died"

I remember enveloping her with a hug because I myself did not know what to say to her. We became inseparable ever since that day. I don't know the reason why we stuck around each other for this long but her mom always told as that we were two peas in a pod. Since then Sam and I bonded over our shared grief and unfortunate experiences while creating happy and remarkable memories for ourselves. The thing is we both did this not to push back the thought of sadness and loneliness but we did it for ourselves; we thought of it as a metaphor "anguish bursts when it is conquered with delight."

The thing is pain never really goes away, it is inevitable and it demands to be felt on a certain level. All my life I knew pain and sorrow as an old friend. I greeted it with a frown and a heart that was ready to break at some point. My first taste of such feeling was when I knew my mom never wanted me in the first place. As a a child I did not know how to respond to such information, all I remembered was I would cry myself to sleep knowing that my own mother had a heart too little to fit a love intended for her daughter. She never fought for me nor did she ever thought to do so and she left without even saying goodbye to me. The good thing was she left me with my sweet father who has loved me for who I am. Because of Him I grew up knowing that every person has that special someone tied to you with an invisible string. I always thought he was joking but then I saw how he loved me. It wasn't out of responsibility or duty but it was because he was capable of being brave and strong; he welcomed love to his heart like it was meant to be there all along. But life always has it's ways in reminding me that good things are never meant for someone like me. My father died five years ago due to an accidental car crash. I was so mad to the point that I couldn't get out of room because if I do everywhere I looked reminded me of him; I was only sixteen then. I was left with nothing but a soul so ruptured and torn and bits and pieces of my heart scattered with no intentions of being mended again. I had no choice but to live with my grandmother which has been one of the greatest blessing I have ever received.

From then on, I promised myself to always guard my heart from everything that could make it break or open to temporary joys. This tactic has worked for me for as long as I can remember but then you came along and changed the rules of my game.