Painting Butterflies

02 // apologies

"I love you, Rose."

I know you do.

So why do you act as if you hate me?

"I really do. I feel as if I've failed you as a mother."

Funny. That's exactly how I feel.

"Your therapist told me you don't talk much anymore. I need to know that I'm not wasting my money."

Because all there is to life, huh?

Money, right?

All I ever was and ever will be is a waste of money.

It hurts me to come home and find you smiling and laughing with my sisters, and only say 'hi' to me.  It hurts to think the only reason you make promises is to break them. You've failed me, and I'll never truly be able to understand how it feels to love and be love.

Because you see, I never hated you, but I'll never love you.

A tear slipped from her cheek. She ducked her head to the right and got out of the chair. She walked straight out the door. As soon as she was safely in the bathroom with the door locked, she let more tears slip until she was sobbing silently.

Rose had lived her whole life this way. Avoiding people and hiding with regretful tears.

She had never had a true bond with anyone, not even with her friends.

Because they were temporary, and no amount of crying could ever bring a broken friendship back.

So she never made a true friendship.

She felt a familiar ache in her heaving chest. The one that made her feel empty. The ache that screamed she would never be enough. That she could never be a good daughter. That she deserved to be treated as a nuisance.

Her face was red and puffy, no tragic heroine's beauty to be found.

She finally made a decision. 

She ran into the middle of a bussling city street.

With a bus approaching mercilessly on her left, she gave a tearful sigh.

So this is how it ends. The invisible girl disappears as silently as she came.

 She closed her eyes, preparing for the impact.

I'm sorry, Alex.

She stopped writing. There was nothing more to say.

She stared at her bare feet on the bathroom wall directly across from her, deep in thought. When she looked back down at her paper, water blotched the entire page.

So I guess this is the ending to the painfully slow story of me. I'm truly sorry Alex. I never wanted you to see me this way.