I Give Up

12

"What are you thinking about?"

I look up. There was Anne, my bestfriend, staring at me through thick-rimmed glasses. Her eyes were smart—calculating, analyzing. Something about her gaze made me feel vulnerable, I had to look away.

"It's him again, isn't it?" she persists. I sit still and keep quiet, my eyes firmly fixed on my shoes. She understands the language of silence. For us, this is enough.

She sits down beside me and wraps me in a hug. I lean into her and suppress a sob. Sighing, she says, "You're too good for him, you know? He's an idiot."

I try to smile. "Yeah."

"No really," she straightens up and looks at me intently. "He is. You're a total fucking catch in the girlfriend department, and he's an ass for not even realizing it."

When I don't reply, she continues. "You're amazing, you know that right? You're one of the greatest people I know. And yet he's treating you like shit. Do you honestly think you deserve that?"

I look at her. She stares right back. This was the girl who stood by me through thick and thin. The girl who picked me up after every heartbreak, who believed in me more than I believed in myself. This was the girl who knew me, knew everything about me, knew all the good and the bad, and yet loved me anyway. This was the girl who always had my back, and for that I will forever be grateful.

"No," I say finally. "No, I don't."

I close my eyes and try to ignore the ache. We stay quiet for a while, I think she was letting me feel the things I needed to feel. It takes a moment or two before she speaks up again.

"So, what do you want to do now?"

I open my eyes and take a deep breath. Clenching and unclenching my fists, slowly I say, "I want it to stop."

And then, something close to a proud smile flashes across Anne's face.

She nods and says, "Leave it to me."