THE WAY I HATED YOU

II. HELL

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ CHAPTER TWO
the one where she hates her life
point of view / isobel

•°. *࿐

— NOTES APP 📝 —

dear diary,

my life is full of shit. and today has been a great representation of that. i mean it's so fucking bad that i'm using my notes app as a diary, pathetic — 15 year old me might be proud. which is the whole point. 15 year old me just stepped into my life again, i feel like i never left. all the shattered pieces i glued together over time? crushed once again.

i'm sorry, i should probably let you in on what's been happening (even though i still have the more or less rational fear of my notes getting hacked) so here is a quick recap on the last week:

i arrived in munich after a horrible flight, went to dad's and now my new apartment, cried myself to sleep because the most important man in my life is dying and there is no fucking thing i can do about it and had the worst nightmare. actually, forget that, my worst nightmare just became real.

the rest of the week was okay-ish. i got an internship at bayern munich for their marketing/social media department, without knowing a thing about football (so i thought) but yay! big club, great chance, might make life a bit more interesting. it made life a lot more interesting. because the second i was about to leave on my first day, my biggest fear came to life. i'm not exaggerating here.

leon fucking goretzka was standing right in front of me. and i wanted to die. still do.

[last edited five minutes ago]

•°. *࿐

I had never been great at running. My high school teacher had screamed at me several times because of that. It was simply not my favorite type of sport and endurance not my biggest strength. However, when I had stormed outside the building and had ran all the way to the subway station, I had thought to myself, that I might actually have it in me to be a good runner.

Now I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, my face hidden behind my cold hands and a soft blanket wrapped around me like I was a little kid. The universe had played a sick trick on me. Twice by now. It was absurd and I felt inferior to the world.

Leon's face was engraved into my mind like a distinguished artwork. His eyes piercing right into mine, the soft little freckles you were only able to notice when looking closely and the small wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, showing the amount of joy he had lived in his life — too much.

Seeing him had been like an enormous slap in the face. As if everything I had worked for had just vanished. All my accomplishments ripped apart and all the things I had let go crawling right back into my sore heart.

I felt like a little kid again, needing to be protected from the scary, mean outside world. But now it was my duty to protect my Dad, not the other way around anymore. My friends lived on the other side of the globe — and I was all alone.

I hadn't noticed the tears forming in my eyes, my shaking hands and how my lips vibrated against each other. I felt helpless. And there was no one who would've understood, there was just me and my pathetic little notes app.

Maybe I sat there like this for half an hour, maybe a whole one. When I looked at my watch in the first time in forever it was almost seven pm. Dad should be home from the hospital soon and I had promised him to cook a pumpkin soup for him — when I had been a child we had always cooked it together.