Break Me

12

The weeks passed in a blur of confusion and heartache. It was a disorienting blend of hope and despair that left me feeling more lost than ever. I tried to focus on my classes, but the shadow of Trevor loomed large, casting a pall over every moment of my life. His distance had become a chasm, and every day, I felt more and more like I was standing on the edge of a precipice, ready to fall.
I returned home one evening, the weight of the world felt like it was pressing down on my shoulders. The familiar sights of home greeted me, but instead of comfort, they felt like a prison. Trevor wasn't there, and for a brief moment, I felt a flicker of relief. It was easier when he wasn't there, when I didn't have to face the uncertainty and the tension that crackled in the air between us. I dropped my bag by the door and wandered into the living room, the silence wrapping around me like a shroud.
Trevor's sketchbook lay open on the coffee table, its pages splayed out like the pieces of a puzzle. Curiosity tugged at me, and against my better judgment, I approached it. The drawings were beautiful, as always, but something was different about them. They were darker, filled with jagged lines and chaotic images that seemed to reflect the turmoil inside him. My heart sank as I flipped through the pages, each drawing a raw glimpse into his mind.
Amongst the pages I spotted something that sent a jolt of dread throughout my body. Tucked between two pages was a small plastic baggie—empty, but unmistakable. My breath caught in my throat as I realized what it was. This was it—the evidence I had feared but hoped I would never find. I held the baggie in my trembling fingers, my heart racing as panic surged through my veins. How could he do this? How could he be so stupid?
I threw the baggie onto the table, my mind racing. I knew I had to confront him about this, but my thoughts twisted in knots. How many times had I asked him about the needle, about the changes in his behavior? Each time, he had denied everything, insisting he wasn't using drugs. But now, with this baggie staring back at me, I could no longer pretend. I felt a mix of anger, betrayal, and sorrow coursing through me, threatening to spill over.
I paced the apartment, each step echoing the turmoil inside my heart. I was exhausted from the constant battle of emotions, from the effort of trying to hold everything together while Trevor pulled away. I didn't want to believe that he was using drugs again, but the evidence was undeniable. My mind drifted to Morgan—the woman he had been spending more time with, the one I had begun to resent more and more. Did she know? Was she a part of this?
I picked up my phone, feeling a desperate need for support. I needed to talk to someone, to vent my frustrations, to share my fears. I dialed Amy's number, my heart racing as I waited for her to pick up.
"Hey, Ellie!" she answered cheerfully, her voice bright and full of warmth. "What's up?"
"Can I come over?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.
"Of course! Is everything okay?" she asked, concern creeping into her tone.
I hesitated, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "No, not really."
I rushed to get ready, my mind racing with a million thoughts. What would I say? How would I explain everything that had happened? I felt a knot of anxiety settle in my stomach, but I knew I couldn't keep this bottled up any longer. I needed help, and I needed it now.
The drive to their apartment felt interminable, the streets blurring past as I tried to push my fears to the back of my mind. I had seen glimpses of Trevor's struggles before, but this felt different—more dangerous. I needed to confront him about the drugs, about Morgan, but I couldn't do it alone.
When I finally arrived at Amy's, I rushed up the stairs to their apartment, my heart pounding in my chest. Amy opened the door before I could even knock, her expression shifting from concern to worry as she took in my distressed state.
"Ellie! What's wrong?" she exclaimed, pulling me into a hug.
"I—I found something," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
She pulled back, searching my face for answers. "What did you find?"
I stepped inside, feeling the familiar warmth of their home wash over me. Daniel was lounging on the couch, flipping through channels on the TV, but he looked up as we entered, his expression turning serious.
"Ellie, what's going on?" he asked, concern etched on his face.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to reveal. "It's Trevor. I think he's using drugs."
"What?" Daniel's voice sharpened, the easygoing demeanor vanishing in an instant.
I swallowed hard, the weight of my confession pressing down on me. "I found an empty baggie in his sketchbook. And the other day when I was doing laundry I found a needle."
Daniel's expression shifted to one of anger, his brow furrowing deeply. "He's back on that shit? After everything he went through the last fucking time?"
"I don't know how long it's been going on, but I can't ignore the signs anymore," I said, my voice trembling. "And then there's Morgan. He spends so much time with her, and I don't know what their relationship is. It's too much, and I don't know how to handle it."
Amy placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, her expression sympathetic but resolute. "You need to confront him, Ellie."
"I'm terrified," I admitted, tears brimming in my eyes. "I feel like I'm losing him, and I don't know if I can fight this battle anymore. What if he chooses drugs over me? What if I'm not enough to pull him back?"
"You're not alone in this," Daniel said, his voice steady. "We'll be there for you, no matter what. You deserve to fight for yourself and for him, but you have to be prepared to walk away."
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I know. I can't keep living like this."
Amy glanced at Daniel, and I could see the unspoken communication between them, a shared understanding of the gravity of the situation. "We'll help you, Ellie," Amy said softly. "We'll go together if you want to confront him."
"Really?" I asked, a glimmer of hope flickering within me.
"Absolutely," Daniel affirmed, his expression fierce. "I fucking warned him about this shit."
I felt a rush of gratitude for their unwavering support, a lifeline in my sea of uncertainty. "Thank you," I whispered, feeling a weight lift just a little.
"Let's figure out a plan," Amy suggested, her voice steady and reassuring.
"Yeah," I said, my resolve strengthening.
We spent the next hour going over what I should say. How I should approach the conversation without escalating the situation too much. Daniel was adamant about not letting Trevor brush me off or downplay the seriousness of what was happening. "You have to be firm," he urged. "He needs to understand that this will destroy everything he's worked for."
The drive back home felt heavy, my heart racing as I thought of the confrontation that lay ahead. I could feel the tension simmering in the air, a mixture of fear and determination fueling my resolve. When we arrived at our building, my heart pounded in my chest like a drum, each beat a reminder of the gravity of the situation that was about to unfold. The three of us climbed the stairs in silence, the weight of anticipation thickening the air around us.
I reached for the door handle, my hand trembling slightly, and paused for a moment. "Are you both ready for this?" I asked, glancing back at Amy and Daniel.
"More than ready," Daniel said firmly, his expression resolute. "Let's do this."
With a deep breath, I pushed the door open, the familiar scent of our apartment wrapping around me like a blanket. Trevor was in the living room, his back to us as he sat on the couch, headphones in, lost in whatever music or podcast had captured his attention.
"Trevor," I called, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me.
He turned, a smile flickering on his face as he saw me, but it faded quickly when he noticed Amy and Daniel. "What's going on?" he asked, his brow furrowing.
"Can we talk?" I asked, my voice calm but firm.
"Sure," he replied, glancing at Daniel, confusion etched on his face. "What's up?"
I stepped further into the room, the weight of what I had to say pressing down on me. "I found something today, and I need you to be honest with me."
Trevor shifted, a flicker of apprehension crossing his features. "What did you find?"
"An empty baggie in your sketchbook," I said, each word coming out with a weight I could feel in my chest.
His expression darkened, a mixture of anger and defensiveness flickering across his face. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I'm not going to let you play this game anymore, Trevor," I said, my voice rising slightly.
Daniel stepped forward, his voice steady but filled with intensity. "You need to be honest with her man. You're not just hurting yourself; you're hurting Ellie too."
For a moment, silence hung in the air, heavy and thick, as Trevor looked between the three of us, confusion and anger flickering in his eyes. I could see the struggle within him, the battle between the part of him that wanted to fight and the part that felt lost and overwhelmed.
"I don't need this," he finally said, his voice low and tinged with bitterness. "I don't need you all judging me."
"It's not judgment, Trevor," Daniel replied, his voice firm but compassionate. "It's concern. We're here because we care about you."
Trevor's face twisted with anger, his defenses rising to the surface. "I'm fine."
"Clearly, you're not fine," I shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface. "You're isolating yourself. You're pushing me away. And you're lying to me. You can't keep doing this!"
He stood up abruptly, anger flashing in his eyes. "You don't understand what I'm going through! You don't know what it's like to feel this way!"
"I may not know exactly what you're feeling, but I know enough to see you're hurting," I countered, my voice unwavering. "And I'm here, Trevor. I want to help you. But you have to meet me halfway."
"Maybe I don't want your help," he spat back, his anger palpable. "Maybe I don't need any of you!"
I felt my heart shatter at his words, each syllable cutting deeper than the last. I had tried so hard to be there for him, to show him that he wasn't alone, but all I felt in that moment was the crushing weight of his rejection.
"Maybe you don't," I said, my voice trembling with emotion. "But I can't keep doing this. I can't keep watching you self-destruct while pretending everything is fine."
I turned away, fighting back tears, feeling the gravity of my decision settle over me like a shroud. "I think... I think i should leave for a while."
"Ellie, don't—" Trevor began, but I cut him off.
"No, I have to," I said, my voice shaking. "I need to protect myself. I can't keep putting my heart on the line for someone who refuses to fight for himself."
I looked at Daniel and Amy, who stood in solidarity beside me, and I felt their support in the tension-filled room. I took a step back, feeling the weight of my choice settle heavily on my chest.
"Where are you going?" Trevor's voice was softer now, the anger fading as confusion and fear filled the space.
"I'm going to stay with Amy and Daniel," I replied, my heart breaking at the thought of leaving him but knowing it was what I needed. "I need to take a step back, to figure things out."
"Ellie, please..." he pleaded, his voice cracking slightly.
I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. "I can't do this with you anymore."
As I turned to leave, the heaviness of the moment hung in the air like a storm cloud, the future uncertain and painful. I felt as if I was tearing a piece of my heart out with each step, but I knew it was necessary. I couldn't save him if he wouldn't even try to save himself.
When I stepped out into the hallway, I felt a rush of relief wash over me, but it was quickly overshadowed by the weight of my decision. I knew I had done the right thing for myself, but my heart ached for what could have been.
Amy and Daniel flanked me as we walked down the stairs, their presence a comforting reminder that I wasn't alone in this fight. But even as I left, I felt the remnants of Trevor's words echo in my mind, a haunting reminder of the love that had begun to fray at the edges.
As we drove away from our apartment, I stole a glance in the rearview mirror, watching as the building faded from view, taking with it the memories of laughter, love, and the hopes I once held dear. I knew the road ahead would be challenging, but for the first time in a long while, I felt a flicker of hope for my own future—a future where I could begin to heal, even if it meant letting go of the man I loved.