Fractured

24. Where We End

You know, it's funny how time works. Five years ago, I tried to end my life. And somehow, here I am, standing on the other side of it now. Just a week after that night, I got shoved into therapy—and wouldn't you know it?

I ended up falling in love with my therapist. Not the cringe cliché you see in movies, but real love. The kind where someone sees you, really sees you, and for the first time, you start believing you might just be worth it.

But now here I am, 24 and broke, clinging to the thin thread of my final college semester, praying I don't lose my sanity—or my GPA. Not for the usual Jessie reasons. Nope. But because surviving is expensive, and these overpriced textbooks aren't going to buy themselves.

Since I left Jackson, a lot has happened. And yet, sometimes it feels like nothing's changed at all. I moved in with my friend Sofia and her girlfriend, Haya, and somehow we've managed to survive being broke college students together.

I met Sofia at a Starbucks, of all places. She was tearing into this complete jerk who thought it was hilarious to call the barista racial slurs just for existing. I stood beside her, backing her up, and by the time it was over, we were fast friends.

Moving in was, well, random. Three months into our friendship, I was joking about how I had to drive thirty minutes each way to campus every day, and how my mom had stopped paying for my gas. I half-jokingly asked if I could move in, and Sofia said yes without a second thought.

It was awkward at first. Haya... wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of me crashing in their space. But over time, we warmed up to each other, and now they're two of the best friends I've ever had.

They've been better friends to me than Faena ever was—and that's saying a lot, considering she was in my life for almost a decade. Or... maybe it was less? It's strange how the details blur when someone becomes a part of your past.

Speaking of Faena, she kept her whole "outgrowing me" thing pretty serious. When I posted about getting into college, she did reach out, congratulated me, and offered to buy me coffee so we could catch up.

I almost took her up on it... but I ended up ghosting her. I couldn't bring myself to let go of the things she said to me, all those years we were supposed to be best friends.

Anyway, enough rambling. Here's the TL;DR: I've been really, genuinely happy.

Genuinely healing. It was a rocky path, but I got through it. I still see the therapist Lucas suggested, and he's been great. It took me about a year to actually open up, though.

I still miss Lucas some days. I've fucked around a bit—y'know, Tinder, Hinge, whatever—to hopefully find a connection, but it never really happened. I'm currently talking to this guy who's an art major, but he's a bit... self-centered. I'm feeling that ghosting urge on him real hard.

I know, I know, I said TL;DR. But these things matter, okay?

Carter. If that man were a walking abbreviation, he'd be TL;DR—the ultimate "too little, too late." He tried sliding back into my life more times than I could count, especially that first year after I'd left Lucas.

And, yeah... maybe I fell back into it once or twice. Just for a moment. Just to give him a taste of his own medicine, to show him what it felt like to be on the other end of it all. But revenge? It didn't feel as good as I thought it would. It just made me feel... tired.

Eventually, I blocked him everywhere, shut down that chapter for good. Funny thing is, my therapist kept telling me that sometimes the strongest kind of closure is just moving on.

At first, I didn't believe him. But now, standing here five years later, I get it. I'm really okay. Not perfect, not completely "fixed"—whatever that even means—but okay. And that feels pretty damn good.