Zalfie--I Fall Apart

one

"Fuck, you're really going, aren't you?" Joe said, wandering into my room and examining me while I packed.

I laughed and shrugged. "Of course. What did you think, I was in it just for the attention?"

"You social media types can't get enough," Joe observed wryly, a smile playing on his lips.

I folded some more clothes and put them in my suitcase as Joe sat on my bed. Tears were beginning to well in my eyes as I thought of leaving my sweet (although that might not be the right word) brother behind when I moved to a foreign land (alright--America wasn't that foreign. At least I spoke the language).

"Christ, Zo," Joe said--although it is important to note that he sounded a like he could cry at any second. "Pull yourself together, man." He shook me shoulders.

I laughed, swallowing (or at least attempting to swallow) the painful lump that was rising in my throat.

"These aren't tears of sadness, my amigo," I told him, gesturing grandly at my face "These are, n fact, tears of joy. For I can't wait to not have to see your annoying ass everyday."

Joe opened his mouth in fake shock, placing his hand to heart and falling back dramatically on the bed. "A real wound to my ego," he said.

I smiled and continued packing.

"Are you going to be okay out there?" he asked me quietly, different from his normal loud and obnoxious Joe self.

There was a beat of silence before I smiled. "Is that some concern I hear?" I teased.

Joe shrugged, not retorting as I expected he would. "America is like ten times as big as Britain," he said. "And you don't know anyone. Are you sure you're ready for this?"

I nodded. "This is  the right step. You know I need a change of pace. I need something different."

"But this? This seems . . . drastic, to say the least."

I bristled slightly at the criticism of my choice.

"I need something drastic. You know how hard I have dreamed of this since I was a little girl. I want America. I want the big, bustling cities. I want the thousands of people. I want to live in a shitty apartment with no money. I want all the changes, no matter how terrible they are. It would be better than this. Anything would be better than this, Joe."

Joe rolled his eyes. "I don't get what's so terrible about your life here. You're always so fucking dramatic, Zo. It could be so much worse."

"I'm not going to settle," I said defiantly. "This is not who I was meant to be, you know. Like, yeah I'm extremely lucky that I'm not homeless somewhere, but I feel myself withering here." I put my hands to my chest and spread them outwards rapidly, gesturing around my room. "I'm fucking bored. I can feel my youth passing me by each second and I'm not doing anything great with my life. In fact, I'm not doing anything."

"Okay, okay," Joe put his hands up. "I get it. Do what you need to do. It just seems so sudden--does Nat even know?"

I shook my head. "I'm telling him tonight."

Joe laughed. "Good fucking luck, sis. He's a psychopath. I wish you had broken it off a year ago."

So do I, I thought, as I closed my eyes and squeezed my temples. Quietly--almost whispering--I said, "I'm scared."

Joe moved to the floor and sat by me, putting his arm around me. "You can do it, you know. I can come with you if you want. I can bring Gaby."

"Would you really?" I asked.

He nodded. "I love you, you twat," he said gently. "Even if you have the worst fucking taste in boys."

I smiled, but tears were falling down my face. Joe gently wiped them away.

"This isn't why you're going, is it? So you don't have to be in the same country as that basket case when he finds out?"

"Of course not!" I said, not convincingly, but Joe let it slide.

Truth be told, on the list of pros and cons, being able to disappear from Nat had been one of the biggest pros in the move column. The idea of not having to deal with him when he found out that he was dumped--my God, what a relief. As Joe had said, I should have dumped him months--even years--ago. Instead, I had kept the dead, shriveled up thing of a relationship and let it fester. His attachment had (I imagined) grown, although he never showed me the least bit of affection.

"Have you let your audience know?" Joe asked, pointing at my computer.

I shook my head.

"Maybe that would help? Telling them? Why don't you see if you can find a few British roommates while you're there, eh?" he asked, exaggerating his accent. "Then at least you'll come home to a familiar accent."

I laughed and nodded. "Now get the fuck out of my room."

Joe smiled and walked out my door, before popping his head back in. "I'll invite Gaby to dinner tonight, yeah?"

I nodded gratefully and his head disappeared from my door frame. I took a second to take a deep breath and then stood up and went to my desk. I turned on my computer and then pulled up my blog--entitled Zoella after my childhood nickname. I created a new entry, entitled "New Beginnings", explaining (as I had earlier to Joe) why I was moving to a different country and how I excited I was.

At the end of the blog, I put simply:

I really could use some company and friends, however. If anyone would be interested in renting an apartment with me, I would be eternally grateful.

I put my computer to sleep, hoping that someone would answer. Joe was right--I didn't do tremendously well with being alone. Hence Nat.