Losing Hope

i can't believe that so much time was spent on my own

I've always been almost sensually obsessed with ice cream.

    I mean, just one taste of the delectable dairy treat sent me into a elysian state of euphoria.

    I like to think that's why I didn't notice something was wrong with Elliot until after I had dug into my Rocky Road sundae.

    That, or the slimy little maggot called denial.

    It was Friday afternoon, as in mandatory Friday afternoon no-ifs-ands-or-buts-about-it ice cream date.

    I say date ironically, not literally. Elliot and I were not dating. I suppose he wished we were. I was only in it for the ice cream.

    More irony. Don't believe everything I say. Pain brings out the best and worst in us.

    But I digress.

    Elliot had been uncharacteristically quiet, but I hardly paid him any mind. I was too busy bitching about Stacey or Penelope or Ingrid or something along those lines. It's too irrelevant for me to remember the details.

    Don't think me neglectful; Elliot and I had a fairly balanced friendship. We were best friends for as long as I could remember. And this is what best friends do for each other-- they listen to their constant bitching without judgement. And it goes double when you're in love with her.

    Anyway, when I finally finished complaining, I realized Elliot's Triple Chocolate Fudge had begun to melt. And with fanatics such as us, we never gave ice cream the opportunity to melt before we devoured it.

    And that was around the time my stomach started clenching.

"You okay?" I asked Elliot, swiping a spoonful of his ice cream, as mine was gone. "You're chocolate monster is dying."

Elliot didn't answer. In fact, he didn't even look up.

"El?"

"Do you love me?" Elliot blurted, looking up. His eyes were desperate, pleading.

I swallowed slowly. "Of course I love you, Elliot. You're my best friend." I said carefully, a warning edge in my voice. Normally that was enough to make him drop the subject, but today, it wasn't.

"You know what I mean, Hope," he spat angrily. "Do you love me?"

I looked at him, then looked away. "Elliot..."

"Don't sugar coat it, Hope. I can't... I need to hear the truth."

I met his eyes. I reached for his hand, but he pulled away. There was a lump in my throat that was hard to speak around. "Elliot... I love you. You are one of the most... no, the most important person in my life, and I'd be lost without you." I paused when he looked away. "But.... but no, I don't love you the way you love me. But that shouldn't matter-"

"But it does Hope! It fucking does!" Elliot exploded, and I flinched. People began to stare, but I couldn't care less.

"Do you know how hard it is to sit around and wait for you? To always be the one there for you when you go after these dicks that break you heart? Do you know how much it sucks to never be good enough for you?"

"Elliot..."

"No, you can't just 'Elliot' your way out of this. You can't just give me that broken puppy dog look. I can't stand being in the friendzone anymore!"

"What are you saying, Elliot?" I said quietly, my heart freezing in my chest.

"I'm saying I'm done, Hope. It just hurts too fucking much."

"El, you're my best friend. I need you. Please."

He just shook his head, standing up.

"Elliot, don't leave me. Please." My plea came out as a sob.

But he was already gone. The door to the ice cream parlor dinged, and it was all over.

/ / / / / / / / / /

Elliot was my ride, so I walked home that day. I'd like to say that the walk was refreshing, that it gave me time to clear my mind and calm down. I'd like to say I entered my house in a serene cloud of acceptance, like they do in the movies.

I didn't.

My mind was as much of a mess as when I left the parlor. My eyes were just a bit puffier.

And I was not calm. I wasn't even sad, not at the moment. I was angry, so goddamn angry.

I slammed all the doors. I trashed my room, literally trashed it. I just blacked out for a moment, and when it was all over, I sat on my floor, the debris of my tornado scattered around me.

My hands shook. They wanted to pick up my phone. They wanted to call him, leave him more desperate messages like I did on the walk home. But I couldn't. He wouldn't pick up.

I never realized that without him, I was alone. I had no one else. No one to talk to, no one to be there for me.

And that was when I broke.

I was nothing more than a sea of sadness, and felt so fucking alone.

And I really wanted my mother.

/ / / / / / / / / / /

"Mom... it's me... are you going to be home for dinner...? Just wanted to call you... uh... call me back, okay?"

/ / / / / / / / / /

"Mom... it's getting later. I made dinner, so when you come home, it's waiting... I'd like to see you tonight... please."

/ / / / / / / / / /

" Mom, I really need you tonight.... I need my mom... please come home... please."

/ / / / / / / / / /

I woke up on the couch, my eyes crusty. I checked the time on my phone. 5:49 am. I got up, and peeked through the window at the driveway. It was empty.

My mom never came home.