Maybe We Were Meant to Be (Tay Jardine and Jenna Mcdougall)

Is This How It Ends?

Jenna:

I sat in the chapel, my head bowed resting on my folded hands. I wasn't a very religious person, but if I ever was going to be now was the time. I was there for Tay.

The last few days had been extremely hard. I went back to Tay's apartment every night since I had nowhere else to go. The empty rooms haunted me and reminded me of that last night. I was now the one crying myself to sleep. It was even worse in the mornings waking up to an empty bed.

Tay's friends came over and told me they were sorry for what happened, but things would get better it would just take time. I knew they meant well, but they didn't really know what I was going through or if everything would get better. I guess all I could do was wait.

They told me I could come see her Thursday, unless I seemed to be a trigger for her. It would break me in half, not just my heart all of me, if I was causing her all this pain. I already blamed myself for her barely making it several days before. If I was a problem for her, I don't know if I could bring myself to be around her ever for fear that this would happen again. They say if you love something you have to let it go.

Thursday came slowly. It was cruel how time was playing with me. Though I had been going there every day to pray to any existing god, begging them to please help Tay, it was different when I entered the hospital. I was going to see her. Unfortunately I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

I took the stairs staring down at my feet as I walked. My shoes felt like they were made of lead. My every step echoed in the hollow tall room. I took a deep breath as I opened the door to the mental ward.

I was greeted almost immediately by a door controlled by a large guard behind a desk to the right. I had to put on a visitor pass before I was allowed to pass. I guess they wanted to make sure none of the patients could get out and hurt themselves or others. It seemed harsh, but necessary.

The walk down the hall lead by one of the nurses seemed to be miles long. Every step closer it felt like I had a pound added to my feet.

I entered the room. When I saw Tay I flashed her a weak smile, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything. This experience had been exhausting. I couldn't look at her long without tears filling my eyes. I looked around the room instead.

I sat down in a chair that was facing the bed but I still couldn't look at Tay, so I stared at my shoes with my elbow on my knee and my head in my hand. We stayed there in silence. Ice cold, dismal silence. When Tay finally decided to break the ice all she could say was "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked in a hollow, ghostly voice, trying my hardest to hide all emotion and not burden her with my pain.

"Not thinking of you when I did it" she whimpered.

"You know you didn't hurt just me, did you think of your parents, siblings, friends?" I said in a disconnected whisper.

"No I was being selfish" she said in such a robotic manner it was clear she had rehearsed the line over and over in her head. She might not believe it but it rung true to my ears.

"Do you know why you hurt me?" I choked back tears.

"Because I tried to kill myself?" she replied skeptically.

"Because you lied to me, you caused me more pain having to rush home to see what was wrong, than if I had stayed home and been able to know everything was alright or maybe not alright, but at least I would have known sooner, maybe been able to stop you. I wouldn't feel so guilty. I'm getting really tired of this Tay. I'm sorry to say this, but I'm kind of happy you ended up in the hospital so you'll have to get help." I growled no longer able to keep my emotions in. Immediately after I burst into tears.

Tay's face sank in to horror as she realized what I had said. She had been refusing to see anyone, she probably didn't want to admit that there was anything wrong. I, instead, felt lighter after saying those words. I felt that there was hope, maybe I wouldn't have to deal with her unpredictable moods, she went between happy, sad and angry like they were lipsticks to change everyday.

She stayed in the hospital for another week and a half or as they put it "until we no longer find her a danger to herself" which I found a laughable concept. They had put her on some medicine, but she had only been taking it a week. They said it could take up to a month to have any effect. They gave her a little blue one to "stabilize her mood" and a pink one to help her sleep at night. They also said she had to see a psychiatrist regularly to make sure everything was going okay with the prescription and they recommended she talk to a therapist once a final diagnosis and regulation of medication had been made.

The fact that they thought things could be better in 3 weeks rung in my ears like a beautiful song. I would have the Tay I knew back. I wouldn't have to worry about if I would see new wounds on her in the morning or if I would find her in the bathroom throwing up pills like two weeks ago. Unfortunately my little bubble of happiness and relief was soon burst.

"Do you really expect me to keep taking these stupid pills? Or to see one of those condescending little assholes that feel like they need to help you because their life is so perfect?" Tay snarled as soon as we were out of the hospital.

"Do you really think that taking the damn medicine is worse than being dead?" I growled back.

"Hell yeah, I don't need to be 'cured' of anything, I'm still alive, am I not?"

"Yeah, you're alive because I was there to get help." I yelled in frustration "Next time I may not be, I don't know how much longer I can deal with your mental breakdowns and your constant mood swings. One minute you're complimenting me and the next you're yelling at me for no reason. I didn't realize what I was getting myself into when we first started dating and by the time I did I had gotten too attached, I love you Tay, but it's making my life hell. I think I'd be happier in the long run if we ended it now if you aren't going to get help."

"You're going to break up with me when I'm so weak?" she asked pitifully. I may have fallen for it a couple of months ago, but now I found it immature and disrespectful for her to mess with my emotions like that.

"Yes, I can't always put you first, I have to think about myself too."