She sits on a gray couch and hugs a striped throw pillow inside a modest room. Her hair is thrown into a long messy ponytail and she's wearing what she wore the day before. A baggy, ripped rock t-shirt with a simple pair of gray athletic shorts. Her weary eyes are stained with tears and tiredness from another sleepless night from the night before.
A young woman sits in a chair across from her, taking notes. Her legs professionally crossed and her hair neatly straightened.
It's not like the movies. She doesn't lay on a stiff black couch, staring at the ceiling pouring out her heart, confessing all of her darkest secrets and feelings. The nice lady doesn't stare blankly at her, candidly asking her how she feels and callously nodding along.
This isn't the movies. This is real life.
Instead, she sits there and describes everyone who ever broke her heart. Everyone she let into her life only to watch them leave. Everyone that she trusted, only to be let down, again and again. Everyone who ever made her smile and laugh only to make her cry and wish she was dead. Everyone who ever broke her heart. Not romantically, of course, this sort of heartbreak was strictly platonic.
She blames herself for all of it. She was the only one to blame, there was no one left. She knows that she hurt them, and so their immediate reaction would be to hurt her back. She knows that she was sadistic and made everything about herself. That's why they all left. It was all her fault and she knew it.
It always came back to that. People always left and it was always because of her. She never seemed to be able to do anything right. No matter how hard she tried—to be a good friend and a respectable daughter. She always tried to be the best friend. She always tried to be there for them. She always tried to be sensitive enough, funny enough, pretty enough, but it was never enough. Nothing she ever did for anyone was enough.
She explains to the nice young lady sitting across from her why shethinks everything that happens to her, happens to her. She explains it like a dream...
YOU ARE READING
Platonic Heartbreak
PoetryA depressed teenage girl talks about her platonic heartbreaks with a therapist. She remissness about why her life is so destructive and why she exists when she feels like she doesn't deserve to exist.
