If I Dare To Hope (George Memeulous)

Two

George, July 2021

Nothing was worth living anymore. She was gone. I could never find love like that again

It obviously wasn't real love if she left you like that.

Shut the fuck up. I know. But I don't want to tarnish my perfect image of her.

Images of her lifeless body floated through my mind as I laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I didn't cry. I haven't cried in months. I just let the thoughts consume me. If I tried to fight it, it would be worse.

I want to die.

I don't want to be in pain anymore. The thought of nothingness sounded nice. But maybe I would be wrong. What if heaven and hell were real? I would surely go to hell. I don't deserve a place like heaven.

I was afraid to die if hell was real. I didn't want to suffer anymore than I already am. That's why I haven't ended it yet. I wasn't sure if the afterlife was worse.

Alex came by an hour later, knocking. I didn't respond, hoping he would get the hint and go away.

He didn't.

"George, you have a visitor..." Alex whispered. I blinked and shifted my eyes to see a man. He had a receding hairline and a five o'clock shadow.

"Hello George, I'm Duggar." He said smiling. I shifted my eyes back to the ceiling, ignoring him.

I wasn't stupid. I knew what this was. It was an intervention. He was a shrink here to fix me. I highly doubt that would work.

Duggar and Alex exchanged a few words and Alex left. Duggar sat at my desk, facing me.

"I was told you used to be a youtuber." He started. I ignored him. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes before he spoke up again.

"Tell me about Marina." I shook my head. He can fuck off. Duggar sighed.

"You like to write yeah? How about this. You write me something and that's how we can communicate." I closed my eyes. I didn't want to do this.

"Either you can sit and wallow in self pity and make your loved ones be worried sick, or you can fix it. You're not just harming yourself with this behaviour. What about your mum? What about your mate Alex? Don't you care?" He prodded.

"Of course I fucking care!" I yelled, sitting up.

"You think I want to be this sad?! All I can do is think about her. I am in so much fucking pain everyday! I just want to fucking die already." I muttered the last part.

"Then why don't you fix it? You're sad because you want to be sad, or you just don't k ow how to be happy. You've been sad for so long happiness seems unattainable." He was right. I forgot what it was like to be happy. To laugh. I haven't laughed in months.

"How can I fix it?" I whispered, I hated being vulnerable.

"Do something, socialise. Go back to doing YouTube. Find something you are passionate about. Alex told me you used to play video games. Do that." I nodded, picking at the skin around my nails. I need to get a grip.

"I want to see you every week. We can talk about the progress you make and coping skills. Does Friday work for you?" He asks. He's not giving me much of a choice. And I know how much it would please mum. I nodded.

"See you at noon." He smiled and left. I sighed. Fuck me.