The Horror and the Night

Fears

      Y/N could remember very well the time when she was a young girl, full of hope, full of joy, full of hopes and dreams. She remembered vividly all the teenage fantasies she used to dream, all the plans she used to make, all the goals she wanted to pursue. She could retrieve from memory every single part of her adult life that she had imagined, clearly as if those dreams had never left her. She never wished for much, never wanted too much, all she desired was a peaceful, warm, happy life. A loving husband, two sons, a house with a white picket fence, a loving family, a simple sweet apple life. Just as vividly as she remembered all her teenage fantasies she recalled the pain of disappointment when all her dreams crumbled into nothing, the bitterness with which she lived with every day. For Y/N's life quickly turned out to be quite different from what she wished it had been.

As a young girl she created in her mind an image of her future self. A strong woman with a smile on her face and a kind heart. Drawing inspiration from strong fictional characters who, despite hardships and adversity, always maintained a cheerful and good nature, this is how she wanted to be. Yet she had not assumed that one day she would become one of them, the pain and trauma they had to deal with included. Not much remained of that hopeful young girl, only a realized image of her own fantasies now devoided of the beauty and warmth she so desperately longed for. Kind but cautious, sincere but reserved, who loved life but walked through it completely alone, she began to realize more and more how broken she really was. How much each successive blow she received from life seemed to be the one that would tip the cup of bitterness and push her over the edge. And yet, balancing on the edge of resignation, she kept on clinging to life. She kept looking for wonders in the dark corners of everyday life, searching for joy in the midst of anger and disappointment, trusting as she pushed aside fear and prejudice, she continued to smile, even though more often than not her smile was stained with contempt.

And yet on that evening, when she was with him, she smiled. She genuinely smiled. That evening her eyes shone as before, her voice was soft as before, that evening for the first time in a very long time, she just felt herself, she felt normal. As if for a fleeting moment, her dreams were revived once more. It was a beautiful moment, fleeting, ethereal, which like a lovely dream came and went, leaving only the reality. And even though she knew she had no reason to, Y/N felt sad, broken. How could she feel sad when she had spent a wonderful time in the company of a fantastic man? How could she feel sad when that man made plans for the future in which he included her. How could she feel sad when the future seemed bright and exciting.

Yet she knew well that just as little happiness had befallen her in the past, there was little chance that happiness would befall her in the future. After all, why should the future be any different? Why should she cling to delusional hope?

She knew these moods all too well, days like this came without warning, out of the blue. Days in which she couldn't smile, couldn't sing, couldn't pretend, and yet she did. She would go to work with a smile on her face, at work productively she would always be full of energy, always close to her colleagues, always bright, always determined and focused. Her mask fitted her face perfectly well. Long ago she had learned to answer a concerned question about her well-being with a nonchalant, "I'm fine, just tired, didn't sleep very well." Long ago she learned to disguise her anger with a smile. That in this case, there is no point in being honest, after all, people didn't care. After all, she was always alone in the end anyway.

*

"Why do you insist that you can handle all this alone?" Jonathan sat comfortably in an armchair and observed as you tried to avoid the subject through cooking, "we were making such good progress and now over the course of a day you take not two, but ten steps back and shut down completely."

"I'm not shutting down!" you denied, "there's just nothing to talk about!"

"You know I completely disagree with that. You would have to be blind not to notice how withdrawn you are."