Everything We Always Were

Three: Chasm

After that initial rumor, more rumors started sprouting off of it. That I had an orgy with the football team, and that I tried to have an orgy with the cheerleaders. Etcetera, you know?

So my freshman year wasn't the best. But then Fran moved here and we became fast friends and then Veronica just appeared at our lunch table one year and now we are here.

I wouldn't have gotten through it without them.

But I don't think either of them fully understand why that was such a life-defining moment for me. Such a friendship-ending moment for me at the time.

Not only did he break my heart, he was my first big crush, but he was all I had growing up. Every day of grade school we would spend at his house. His parents weren't rich, but they weren't homeless. James has a small bedroom in the back of the small, run-down, one-story home on the far outskirts of town.

He had an old tire swing in the backyard, I think it fell down probably years ago, and the woods behind his house were our castle grounds.

We played make-believe because he knew that I was never happy at home. The few short hours I had with either of my parents every week weren't the best. They were both so busy, even in their time off, that they barely had time to look at me. I went from hanging my report card on the fridge, hoping for one of them to see and be proud of me, to hiding them, hoping that they never found them because they would be disappointed in me.

Of course, they would never find them, they never went into my room. If they did, they would see posters of punk rock bands, the short black paint job I did on the walls, and the mural of the universe Veronica did on my ceiling. Or the ratty fake vines bought online in freshman year because it was a trend. Now they look sad and droopy hanging from my ceiling.

The fairy lights still work, surprisingly, considering the amount of soda I've spilled down the wall behind my bedside table, where they are plugged in.

It's a shithole of a bedroom, always a mess but never dirty. I hate keeping trash or dishes in here. And I do my laundry every week but the days between, it does pile up on the floor.

It's also just so dark here. A mix of dark-colored carpets and dark-colored rugs layered on the floor, blackout dark gray curtains, black walls, and basically black ceiling.

It represents the chasm in my chest that has been slowly growing since 8th grade. Probably even earlier than that. I laugh to myself at my cringy joke.

I practically raised myself. I'm glad I was born in the era of the Internet.

Thank you to YouTube and Tumblr for raising me.

In all seriousness, I do love my parents. I know they do love me, no matter if I was an accident or not. And eventually, they will have time for me. I just don't think that time is coming anytime soon.

Today is Friday. It's been a whole week since the party. That week was completely normal. James didn't bother me in 3rd hour and I spent my evenings at the barn.

After waking up early for school, I spent an hour lying in bed before I went downstairs.

The check was waiting for me on the counter. This time it's more, and there's a note.

Promise I will have a weekend off soon. Love you. -Mom

This check is a thousand. Which means I can buy a few new books when I run my errands tomorrow.

Fridays are canonically, the best day of the week. Last day of work for the week for the 9-5 workers, and the last day of school for the week for every kid in school. For me, it just means I have 48 hours of either pure boredom or spending time with the girls.