We Know Better

New Year's Eve

*Peeks in* hey guys... it's been a while... sorry about that....

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It is New Year's Eve and the last few days have been absolute hell. I have had little contact with anyone, even Brendon. My mind keeps spinning in circles, reeling from the events of the day after Christmas. Despite what I argued, the guilt of my relationship with Brendon and keeping it a secret has been eating me alive. Things were left so unfinished between us, but neither of us have said a thing to the other. In part, most likely, because neither of us know what to say. It is obvious that a rift has been created in our relationship that existed before I grew close to Brendon. In a way, he was a by-product of the schism.

A couple of days after that day, I told Brendon about what happened, briefly, but was reluctant to expand much further than a summation. While I feel comfortable talking to him about most things, this is something that is between Alessa and I. It is a confidentiality that supersedes everything that I have built with Brendon. He, of course, respects the enduring foundation between her and me.

At first, he tried to get me out of the house, but it was to no avail. Except for one night where I got into his car and we drove in silence until I fell asleep in the passenger seat. I could not bring myself to do a thing that required attention or interaction when the constant feeling that a part of me was withering was festering within me. I would have sworn that if I could look inside of my body, there would be blackened rot eroding me from the inside out. The feeling was so unshakeable and debilitating. Everything felt like a daunting task, and I realized that this was what my depression looked like when exacerbated. Being self aware of depression made it that much worse.

I stare at myself in the mirror as I prepare to go to Ray's place. He is throwing a little party for New Year and I have been able to work myself up enough to go to it. Our immediate friend group agreed to exchange our gifts today as well, so we are getting to his place a little before the function actually begins. All of the their gifts are wrapped and piled in a bag, courtesy of my mother, sitting on my bed. My makeup is done even though I know there is a very good chance I will be getting into Ray's pool, I packed my bathing suit just in case. It will not be too hard to reapply afterwards if it comes down to it. My hair is pulled back into its usual, puffy ponytail and I have two small braids hanging down in my face that can be very easily positioned to frame my face.

When I get to Ray's, I am relieved to see that Alessa is not here yet. It allows me to bypass the awkward greeting I would have to supply. Instead, I find a comfortable spot on the couch and sit quietly as Mads and Ray talk to each other about a video game. Chris arrives after a bit and seamlessly joins into the conversation. As I wait for Alessa to arrive, I feel the anxiety pooling in my stomach. It churns uncomfortable as my eyes keep jumping to the door every few seconds.

When the door finally cracks open, my stomach nearly drops out of my ass. My eyes avert themselves quickly so that I do not have to make contact with her. Still, I remain silent as she greets everyone and Chris makes a comment on how cute her outfit is. Mads is the one who insists that we finally open gifts. That relieves a bit of the nervous coiling in my abdomen as my energy is put to use when I pass everyone their gifts. Neither Alessa or I exchange gifts since we spent Christmas together, which is all the better for my avoidance.

It is not too long after we finish opening gifts that the first few guests show up. When Brendon is among them, I do my best to not automatically gravitate towards him. I am still not sure where we stand publicly. I am not even quite sure how I feel about us being seen by others. We have not had that talk yet. Plus, with Alessa here and her theories confirmed, it seems inappropriate. To physically force myself to not get up and wrap my arms around him in greeting is terribly difficult to do. I content myself with pressing the side of my leg against his when he plops down on the couch next to me after making his rounds.