1.29 – I Like You

It’s been nearly three months since the studio opened. I was such a fucking wreck…

Two weeks in Kaylyn made me go back to a therapist. She asked me how I was doing at work and I completely lost my voice. Not literally, it’s just…I couldn’t think of what to say, and when I fudged something I sounded so small and low and broken. Then she handed me a tissue, and I realised that there were tears running down my face, and I felt broken.

“I can’t afford it.” was my response to the therapy suggestion. “I’m putting everything into this place.”

“Then let me make up the difference.” I opened my mouth to protest, but Kaylyn held out a hand. “Don’t. Don’t argue with me. Look at it this way – is this place going to do well with a sad and anxious manager? I don’t think so. You’ll help out both our wallets in the long run, hon. Please go.”

“I’m doing fine now.” I tried to argue. “And so is the place.”

“You’re gonna burn out like this. Please. You gotta get some help.”

I returned to Alessandra. I was so afraid that she’d think I had failed. I never realised just how much I’d wanted her to be proud of me…

But she was reassuring and told me it was normal for shit like this to reappear during times of high stress. I spent a couple years after the first round of therapy teaching myself to just take kindness at face level…and I guess I managed to keep some of it up? It was surprisingly easy for me to accept her advice and consolation.

I’m finding some semblance of a healthy psyche again. Kaylyn was right. And I’m starting to truly believe that I’ve got friends who will always be here for me.

Dianne, my cousin, who comes over for movie nights and still invites me for dinner with Uncle Miles, Aunt Adela and Michael. Who reached out to me when I was pregnant and alone, despite how I’d been treating her all our lives…

Kaylyn, who good-naturedly competes with me in all things fitness and trusted me enough to go into business with me…

Alexis, who has lived with and supported me for years; she’s moving out soon but I’ve found a new roommate in no small part due to her help, so that’s fine, and even if I hadn’t…I would really be happy for her…

And Lachlan, who I haven’t even known a full year yet, but who understands me better than anyone else…

As Alessandra tells me: I had a relapse. Things got kinda bad again. But it doesn’t make everything I worked on after Nolan invalid.

And I’ve come out…pretty much unscathed.

---

“How are you doing?” I asked. If Lachlan took my last class of the day, he came to talk to me afterwards. He attended three nights a week, and this was one of them.

“Better. Not so tired…and I feel like shit’s worth it again, ya know.”

“Well,” I gave a bright laugh. “Same. Here’s to mental health.”

“To mental health.” Lachlan chuckled, giving me a high-five. “Your classes are better now that you’re less anxious – not that they weren’t good before.” he hastily added. I smirked. I knew what he meant…but I could mess with my friends sometimes, right? “They were very good.” he rambled. “As amazing as the woman teaching them.”

“Thanks.” I said.

Damn you, Lachlan, I thought, as my cheeks heated up. Whenever he said crap like that my heart always skipped a beat, my stomach flipping around. Full-on butterflies. Because you like him.

It’s useless. Why would he like you, I snidely thought. You’re you.

And I’m…fine, I reminded myself. I’m a decent person. But he’s a friend and he definitely doesn’t feel the same way…he can’t.

“Smoothies tonight? Or we could go to that bakery you like?” I asked as we headed out of the studio. I could cut loose with desserts tonight, right? I do so much yoga nowadays that it really wouldn’t make a difference to my physique.

“Sorry, I have a bunch of paperwork I kind of let pile up, and some is due for tomorrow. How about Friday we-?”

“You don’t come here on Fridays.” I said in confusion. Realising I’d interrupted him, I cringed and apologised. “Sorry.”

“No.” he muttered, rubbing his forehead. “No, but I was – fuck, what am I – I mean, I would like to come here anyway and…” He trailed off. His mouth was moving but he wasn’t actually saying anything I could hear.

“Make up the smoothie date?” I lightly offered. Fuck! Date?! Why did you say that?

“Yeah! But…like, not smoothies? Like…a restaurant? There’s this really nice fish restaurant that’s pretty close…and the date part as well. Thank you for saying that. That is…that’s what I was going to…”

“You wanna take me on a date?” I decided to put him out of his misery. No point messing with him for this.

He sighed in relief. “Yes. Yes I do. I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t want to given the complete hash I made of asking you.”

“It’s OK. You were nervous…I dunno why tho.” I said, shrugging. It’s just me.

“Cos I like you?” he mumbled. “There, I’ve played my whole hand, I-”

“I want to!” I cried. “I like you as well, Lach…and I like, fish…” When was I ever this flustered? I truly didn’t judge Lachlan for completely losing his cool, but now I actually understood how and why it happened. “So yeah. Fish restaurant. Date. It’ll be fun.”

“See you then.” He pulled me into a hug. His arms felt so nice wrapped around my waist. I rested my head on his shoulder and nuzzled into his neck. Lachlan liked me. He asked me out.

I stepped back from the embrace…and then leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes widened in surprise…but he smiled, grasped my hands, and then finally headed off.

He really does like me…

---

“Sarai!” Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Dianne charging into the office, looking frantic.

“What is it, Di?” I didn’t really appreciate being interrupted on my break…you’re selfish. But I was still gonna help her out…or hear her out, whatever it was.

“I’m engaged!” she exclaimed.

I nearly knocked over my granola bowl. “Wh – what? To Brice?” They’d only been dating nine months, and I never got the impression that her feelings ran that deep…what do you know, you’ve never had a real relationship!

If Dianne, who’s obviously amazing, but has had a slew of relationships that ended pretty awfully, can get engaged…maybe there’s hope for me too.

“Yeah…” she sighed. Not the dreamy sigh I’d expect out of someone newly engaged, but rather more… resigned. “And I’m also pregnant. That’s sort of…”

“You got engaged ‘cos you’re pregnant?” I repeated incredulously.

“I don’t know…I guess I would have married him anyway. He’s a good guy and he loves me.” Dianne considered. “I dunno. It’s a lot. Anyway, be my maid of honour?”

“But…what about all your other friends?” I asked. Dianne isn’t like me – she formed friendships easily. She’d been to college and knew lots of people from there – and she wouldn’t pass all of them up for the cousin who wasn’t even nice to her until she – I – needed someone…would she? I’d done my best to be there for her since but…

“None of them are as good as you.” Dianne said with a smile. “Please?”

“If that’s what you want.” I agreed. “And please come over on the weekend…we can talk more about this. I’m not blowing you off, it’s just that I’ve only got five minutes left of my break.”

“OK.” She nodded slowly. “And…anything up with you?”

I smiled. “Just working as usual…oh, and I have a date with Lachlan tonight.”

I’m pretty sure Ann’s alarmed look into the office was caused entirely by Dianne’s squeal.

---

A/N: Gen 2 is upon us soon! 6 chapters left after this. I’d love to have some of your guys’ Sims in it! I’ll lay out a few character types. I can just make them myself if needed, so submit anything you wish under #HayesGen2 – my only rule is no aliens, vamps or mermaids pls.

• Nerd-type teenagers, mixture of girls and boys.
• More regular teenagers as well.
• A…denizen of the hidden economy, so to say. Basically – career criminal. I could be more specific but I don’t want to spoil anything.
• Manual labourers – can be either men or women.
• 30+ wealthy-looking clientele (say…the sort that might frequent a yoga studio lol)

Also, blooper:

1.27 – Stressed

 

After months of work, opening day was finally upon us. I’d loved every second of it. The designing, the making of the schedules, getting to come up with my own routines – even being stuck in a headstand while someone took photos for our website was enjoyable, despite the blood rush.

I didn’t even have time to straighten my hair most days, so I just stopped. It was strange to abandon a habit I’d been started on at eight, but I like it curly. It was Clarissa who didn’t…and I don’t heed any of her advice anymore.

I had a full schedule of classes and a lot of nerves building up within me. Now the pressure was on me to not completely screw it up. Kaylyn, though she loved yoga and fitness, had a lot else on her plate. Her role was putting in capital, plus a little financial management. She and Vaughn had other investments to deal with. So I was managing this place.

“Hey.” Kaylyn gently shook my shoulder. “Chin up. Look – we did all this!”

“I’m nervous.” I admitted.

“I drowned the nerves in a glass of wine.” Kaylyn joked. “I get it, though. It’s normal to be nervous – you’re running your own business, that’s crazy and scary and all! But Sarai, in all the time I’ve known you I’ve never seen you give less than 100%! So you’re gon’ crush this, sweetie. And it’s not just you. You’re not alone. We’ve got our team, remember?” Her eyes shone like she really did believe in me. Why? Why would she do that? Why would she go into business with you? This doesn’t make sense. You screw things up.

This has been going well so far, I reminded myself.

Our team – Mikhail, Cherie and Ann – filing into the studio stopped the impending thought-spiral. Kaylyn had invited them all in for drinks before we opened tomorrow.

“Cheers.” Ann, the studio hostess, said, clinking glasses with Kaylyn. “I need this job, and this place looks amazing. Thanks for the opportunity.”

“Doesn’t it!” Mikhail, a very muscular instructor with a background in Pilates, exclaimed. “I’m pretty damn excited, I gotta say!”

Cherie, our final instructor, and in charge of  the meditation sessions tacked onto the end of some classes, silently nodded her agreement.

“To the Lotus Flower!” Kaylyn cheered. She drained her glass and set it down. I drank from my own and tried to ignore the growing anxiety gnawing at my stomach.

---

It was so fucking real. For a good five seconds after I woke up, I was sure that I was back in that apartment, destined to live there forever.

It reminded me of the nightmares I had when I was younger. Clarissa would put me into the street and I’d be alone, and then nobody would want me. It probably didn’t help that Clarissa was wholly unsympathetic when I snivelled my way through the next morning. Then, like all kids, I grew out of that.

Waking up, almost in tears, after dreaming something so relevant to my life made me feel like that scared kid stuck under her cold, cruel aunt again.

I applied a thick layer of concealer under my eyes and pulled my hair up, leaving it curly. Then I put on my new set of workout gear and prepared myself to face the day.

Because adults can’t cry through a morning. Adults have to get up and face the day like nothing even happened. And I’m a successful adult with my own business. Ha, successful? Don’t count your chickens before they hatch. And it’s Kaylyn’s anyway, you were too fucking broke. And you will be once you fail.

I took a deep breath and left for my first class.

Was I off my game? Each class brought a few words of praise. Maybe they were just being polite. They’d probably never come back. Kaylyn and Vaughn had emphasised over and over again that we needed a strong client base to succeed.

And you offered to get that – you, the girl who could never get anyone to stick around. How many people left you? How many did you leave?

I don’t need to think about that. Dianne, Kaylyn, Alexis, Lachlan, Michael, Uncle Miles, Aunt Adela. They had stuck around for a while now.

But memories kept on flooding my brain, washing over me in a painful haze, reminding me of how greatly they were outweighed by those who were no longer in my life. At several points I had to take deep breaths, just so I didn’t cry, because there would be no coming back from that one.

Between the morning and lunchtime classes, I locked myself in the office. Ann went on her break. I sat with my head in my hands and took quick, heavy breaths. Pull yourself together. You can’t fuck this up. You can’t!

Someone knocked on the door.

“I’m busy!” I breathlessly called. “Just – uh -”

“Yeah, I get it.” I recognised the voice as Lachlan’s. Why was he here? It’s not like he cares, he got the property leased after all. Wait, that’s fucking stupid, why would he have kept up a friendship for months after the fact if that was the case? “Can I tempt you with a smoothie break then? Mixed berry’s your favourite, right?” He sounded so hopeful, and I knew I couldn’t leave him hanging, not if he’d come all this way. The place down the road is also excellent…

“OK.” I came out of the office.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“Fine.” I answered, after a moment’s hesitation.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

You must look like a real fucking mess.

“I’m s – OK, well I’m stressed. I’m really fucking stressed. Everything just feels wrong.” The words tumbled out of my mouth, and guilt began to eat at me. Lachlan didn’t come here for this.

“Of course you’re stressed! You – it’s the first day of your new business. That’s pretty stressful. But remember what I said? This – what you’re doing here – that’s cool as hell. I’d never have the balls to work for myself.”

I managed to crack a smile. “Thanks, but…I don’t know, it’s…it’s pressure.” I sounded like a gabbling idiot. Why did he put up with me? Why wasn’t he halfway out the building by now?

“Of course. Look – businesses fail, that’s a fact of life. I don’t think yours will. I just saw loads of people leave.”

“It’s just the first day. And Lachlan – I can’t let them down!”I burst out, close to angry tears. I didn’t want to shout at him and be a bitch like I used to – and still sometimes am – but why wouldn’t he get it?

“No matter what, you’ll still have the people who matter in your life. And you – you, Sarai Hayes – have not failed if you did everything in your power to help your studio. And from what I know, you’ve worked your ass off. You’ve already succeeded, OK?” He took a breath. “Phew. Dunno where that came from. But you’re amazing, and this place is amazing – and I wanna buy your largest class bundle.”

“Thanks.” I mumbled. Suddenly, I had fallen into his arms.

Yeah, right. If you fuck this up, you’re the fuckup. 

“Seriously, Sarai. You’re doing great.” he whispered into my hair, and despite the anxiety growing within me, I smiled.

 

 

1.26 – The Same Thing

After we had signed the papers, I’d caught Kaylyn slipping my number to Lachlan. Nice try, I thought. I rolled my eyes at her and she suppressed a grin, eyes innocently twinkling.

He actually used the number to congratulate me when the paperwork went through and our lease was official. Kaylyn, also a possessor of the number, invited him to dinner with her husband, herself, and I.

“Sorry…if this is weird.” I apologised. “It’s OK, you made the sale, you don’t need to hang around me anymore.”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I’m forcing myself to attend. You’re actually really nice – both of you. This’ll be fun – plus I heard the fish here is amazing.”

Over dessert – which I managed to let myself eat for once – the topic of childhoods came up with Vaughn’s innocuous ‘so did you grow up here?’ question, directed at Lachlan.

Awkwardly shifting, he stared down and away from us. “I…no. I was raised in Sunlit Tides. But I got out of there quite quickly.”

“Sunlit Tides is gorgeous though!” Kaylyn gushed. “Blue skies all year, that beautiful ocean…I don’t think I’d ever leave.”

I noticed Lachlan squirming slightly, opening and closing his mouth several times. He eventually settled on saying nothing.

“I guess the economy’s pretty tourism-dependent; there’s far more jobs here.” Vaughn considered. Lachlan quickly agreed and the topic was dropped in favour of a discussion of our dream vacations.

I recognised his facial expression because it was the same one I felt myself wearing whenever the past and ‘where did you grow up’ came up at social events – recently, I’d been networking with Kaylyn to put the word about our yoga studio out there. The biting of the lip, eyes darting frantically as you try desperately to not make things awkward with a sad story…

“Never mind Sunlit Tides.” I told Lachlan, as we left the restaurant. “Whatever’s there is there. You don’t have to talk about it. Or think about it.”

He simply nodded and thanked me, but despite a voice in my head telling me I’d fucked it all up, I could see and accept that…he actually appreciated my clumsy, cryptic advice. And maybe, he knew that I knew, so he knew that I had the same thing going on.

---

Whatever it was, it seemed that moment was what led to Lachlan and I becoming actual friends. Despite Kaylyn’s attempts, that was all…but he did add even more good to my life.

---

I’d known Dianne since we were kids, so I knew her ‘ideas’ face. She’d been wearing it when I let her in. Plus, she was murmuring to herself while she used the new coffee machine. In conclusion, she was up to something.

“So,” She sauntered over and sat down, mug in hand. “Khalil’s friend Raj is coming back into town tomorrow and your date is on Thursday, you’re welcome.”

I raised an eyebrow. “…Aren’t you and Khalil breaking up?” Why would you remind her of that. Shitty, worthless friend – well, actually, I said it because it was relevant to the conversation at hand. So that inner voice could shut it.

“Yeah. We are. So?”

“So why am I going on a date with your ex’s friend?” I asked, sighing. Dating’s something I’ve stayed away from for a long time. I haven’t even had sex since that random guy two months after Nolan was born (real classy, huh, Sarai?). I’m at a stable place. Things are good. Why risk fucking it all up? I’d just make the same stupid, whorish decisions I used to…

“Because it’s all set up and you need to get back out there.” she retorted.

“Says who?”

“Says I. I know you best. Plus you’re always complaining about being alone-”

“That’s just me joking. Yes, I’m single, but I don’t – I don’t want to date again. It’s too much.” I protested. “You know I’m afraid of going…back to how I used to be.” I cringed. It was so fucking pointless to remind her of my old ways and self, yet of course I’d done it. You always-

Dianne’s face fell slightly, her eyes hard and serious. “OK, OK, mine’s just jokes as well. I won’t force you, Sarai. But…I just want to say, I think you are ready for real, true romance. You’ve put in so much work. And if you do sleep with this guy and never call him again – so what? Don’t shame yourself if you enjoyed yourself.”

I suppressed a scoff. She still doesn’t really get it. I’d give everything to whatever guy said I’m pretty, get lost and swept up in a moment, desperate for any kind of fucking attention only to run away from the situation in the end. I wanted to avoid that. I’d seen that it was an unhealthy pattern, and I know I can’t go back.

She seemed to know what I was thinking. “Obviously only do that if you really want to. Not just…for the hell of it, y’know?” she fudged, awkwardly gesturing. This was uncomfortable. I made her uncomfortable.

“Sorry. I’ll do it. The date, I mean.” I told her, just wanting to end the conversation.

“What are you apologising for? Come on, we have to watch Simchanted now. I’ve gotta be at work in an hour.” That was the whole reason she was here; it was our show on Saturday evenings – the same evenings she worked behind the bar at a restaurant on Kells Avenue.

“You’ll definitely be late.” I pointed out.

“Not late enough to get in trouble – if you hurry up and turn the TV on.”

---

Five days later, I was regretting giving in so easily. Well, not so much giving in as being weak and agreeing to avoid a conversation. Coward.

I’d had to cancel on Lachlan. Most Thursdays we got together at one of our places, I’d teach him yoga stuff, he’d make us food and we’d watch one of his geeky films. I’d grown to enjoy those movies and those times, and now I was skipping it…for this.

“So you’re – what was it, Dianne’s cousin.”

“Yeah.” I answered, not really sure what else to say to such a greeting. No ‘hi’ and introduction? Really?

You’ve fucked guys without getting that, I sneeringly reminded myself. With gentle chastisement, I told myself that that fact didn’t mean I’d do so now.

Our date didn’t last long. Raj would not stop talking about himself, and even if I didn’t always believe it, I knew that in relationships, the other person should take an interest in me. Mutual interest is healthy, like Alessandra said. God, how did I still rely on my CBT quotes to guide me through basic socialisation?

He didn’t say anything when I ordered a sparkling water, and later explained that I didn’t drink when he asked me, but he got this weird look in his eye. Like I was a freak. The appetisers looked really good but I pretended that I didn’t want any of them because I wanted it to be over. I nearly always skipped dessert anyway.

I left the restaurant thinking about the fact that Lachlan’s incredulous reaction to this whole situation made me laugh twice as hard as anything that guy said throughout the whole hour and a half. And I really regretted skipping out on him.

 

1.24 – A Whole Year

“I wasn’t sure about this…but it’s been great – thank you so much.”

Alessandra smiled. “It’s been a pleasure, to see your improvements over these months. You hold your head up higher, you smile more…you’re more engaged with me than you were before.” 

“And I think…I’m getting so much better at knowing when I’m thinking or speaking negatively, and when it’s unfounded.”

“Yes. I would hope so.” she replied, with a light laugh.

“I…I feel so much better.”

---

That was a few months ago now. I was free to come back if I felt myself slipping but I didn’t attend regular sessions. Maybe I could have done with more therapy, but even though she was nice, she was expensive. You couldn’t really afford it…you didn’t even need – stop.

I took a few deep breaths and kept walking. Today, I had a plan, of the social kind. Well, kind of. I was just gonna work out with a friend.

“Hi, Kay.”

Kaylyn raised a hand and smiled. “Heya, Sarai. How’s it all going, huh?”

“Pretty good…that new boutique place on 18th gave me another class, so now I’m doing Mondays to Thursdays. And I’m invited to dinner at my Uncle’s again. You?” I queried, as we headed for the punching-bags.

“Eh…not so good. Vaughn’s gonna be stuck in Bridgeport for who knows how long and I got m’self roped into manicures with Kody’s newest girlfriend.” She rolled her eyes. “I am not in the mood for this shit, ya know?”

“Oh, what? That’s no fun.” I exclaimed. I probably sounded kind of stupid, so I corrected myself. “I mean…sorry. Yeah, that all sounds like it sucks. I hope he gets back soon and you can think of an excuse.”

Laughing, Kaylyn shook her head. “Trust me hon, I’m already trying. You can help me after we beat these bags into submission. And remember, let’s not go easy on each other. I’ll call you out if you’re slacking and you’ll be doing the same, hmm?” She reached for her boxing gloves.

I nodded and grinned. There were perks to having a friend as fitness-mad as me. We’d actually met because she came to one of my yoga classes. I wasn’t supposed to be teaching that one but Jalen called in sick that afternoon, and I still pick up anything that needs to be done at work.

“You’re really good.” she’d said. “Actually better than the other guy, I’d say.” Immediately I hadn’t believed her, but then why would she lie to a total stranger?

“Um…thanks. Seriously, thanks a lot! That’s so nice of you to say.” I’d returned, a little hesitantly.

“It’s only what I’m thinkin’.” And we ended up chatting a lot more about yoga, and then we moved onto exercise in general…

Somehow four months later we were good friends…I didn’t screw it up, and I’m really glad about that. It’s always so much fun with her. Talking about ourselves and our lives had got to be as easy as working out together. I’d met her brother, Kody, and her fiancé Vaughn. She’d met Dianne, and they got along pretty well. Yes, I had another friend, and while that might be a bit pathetic to celebrate, every little thing helps.

---

You didn’t tell her everything, I reminded myself as I walked home. I’d told her about my job, and small things that went on in my life…I was still in therapy when we met and I hesitantly brought it up. I wanted to test her reaction, I suppose…but it was fine. I even mentioned some of my ex-flings from ages ago, when the situation called for it, and I brought up Clarissa in a fairly normal fashion when we started talking about family.

I didn’t talk about Nolan though. Kaylyn didn’t know I’d been pregnant and given the kid up. But she was already having a shitty week…why would I bring that up today? I could still hear Alessandra in my head: good and healthy friendships are supposed to be reciprocal…but it wouldn’t be if I started talking about Nolan. She never dumped stuff like this on me.

Today would have been a good time if I was going to tell her…it’s nearly a whole year since I gave birth. Tomorrow would be his first birthday. Maybe I’d get another email. No matter how upset the first one made me I’ve still anticipated the next one with at least some excitement.

I sometimes wished Lela would email me more…but you’re not entitled to that so stop fucking whining about it.

He would be crawling around and trying to talk by now…I think. I don’t know much about babies. And honestly, I’m not sure I would have made the best parent. Not enough money, no father in the picture, no family who wanted to help me…

I needed to sort out my life and issues before I could be ready. And that’s why it was so damn stupid to miss him and whine about it…I mean, that’s why I thought that, in the past.

I knew that both sentiments could coexist but I still had yet to believe it.

Perhaps I was doing better. Six months ago the idea simply hadn’t occurred to me. I was sure that anything I felt about Nolan was shameful. Ridiculous. Maybe it didn’t make logical sense but I had felt better after I just…let the feelings happen.

---

Nolan’s first birthday! was the subject of the email I received two days after that date. As usual, there were pictures of him enclosed, and Lela’s polite, chatty prose surrounding them.

And it hurt a little, to see it. I reminded myself you can be sad. It doesn’t matter that you couldn’t raise him, or that it’s been an entire year. I can be upset and then move past it. It will make me feel better in the long run.

I’d finally let myself grieve, all those months ago when Alessandra advised me to just feel.

I don’t know if I miss you. I didn’t really even know you. I traced my finger down his dimpled, smiling face. So much has changed since he was born…for the better. I’m not sure how things would have gone if I’d kept him. Then again, why think about that? What I’ve managed to get done this year…it’s surprising, in the best possible way. It’s been a good one. And that’s what matters.

1.22 – Not Nolan

Don’t ask this…just do as you’re told, I kept on thinking. Alessandra always wanted to focus on my present, and future. Move on from the past, and the negative way I saw myself and all of that. I understood why.

Yet I wanted to talk about memories nearly twenty years old. And I was going to. This was supposed to be for me, wasn’t it?

Most of them were heavily tinged with raw shame, and fear, and tears, as well as a lot of the stuff I told myself to this day. I didn’t really remember-

“Hi, Sarai, come in, how are you?”

“Alessandra.” I said to her, once we were both seated. “I know you have a plan for these sessions, and, um, I know I’m not supposed to-I just would like to talk about…the past.”

“All right. Could you be a little more specific?”

“I kind of realised that a lot of what I say to myself – the negative thoughts – comes from when I was a kid. You’ve talked about episodes and that but this isn’t an episode – it’s not Nolan.” It was getting easier to say his name. “I think I’m just…like this. And I’m trying so hard not to be but it’s been years!” My voice rose in volume and speed. “I don’t know how to undo this and I-“

“All right.” she slowly repeated. “What was being said? And who was saying it?”

“Just the usual stuff – I was being weak or whiny or stupid or disappointing my mom – she’s dead, by the way, I think I said that-“ Alessandra nodded. “It was…it was my Aunt. She raised me from when I was three. And – I just realised – I don’t remember her ever being happy with me. I was never good enough.”

She sighed and shook her head, her eyes closing and mouth turning downwards. Her expression appeared almost sorrowful. “I’m not surprised you’ve internalised these things to such a degree. What we’re told and what we experience when young can deeply affect our adult lives.”

“So I can’t change?” What was I doing here then? You’ll be like this forever, you stupid bitch.

“I won’t lie to you, it will be difficult. You…hold these ideas close. The idea that you can’t feel your feelings, or that you’re stupid, or disappointing – they drive you.”

“But I – I kind of hate her. I know she kept me alive and out of foster care and I’m an ungrateful bitch or whatever but I hate her. I know she isn’t – wasn’t a good parent and…why would I listen to her?” Before I might have claimed that I don’t. That all of this shit I tell myself was my own idea. But now I don’t think that’s true.

For years I held the belief that even though Clarissa was cruel, she had the right idea about me. That lots of the things she said was true…her only problem was how she said them. Was I wrong all that time? Perhaps she was the one with the problem, which twisted how she saw me.

I said as much to Alessandra.

“Well…you’re learning to relate to yourself in a more positive, evidence-based manner. You have to judge yourself in that way too. Not on the words of a harsh parental figure, taken completely to heart by a child.”

“So I just have to keep doing what I do now. With the thought-catching and stuff.”

She nodded. “You do. You need to be driven by a different way of thinking.”

You can’t do it anyway, it’s been so long…twenty fucking years. How do you undo twenty years of thinking…knowing what you’re like. Why should you anyway? It’s true…but I know a lot of it’s from Clarissa, and nothing ever pleased her. She’d have parties and get promotions and visit her brother and it never brightened that dour, unimpressed face. I wasn’t any different. I couldn’t please her.

Those weren’t the kind of standards I wanted to apply to my own life. I actually want to be happy, and I can admit it now. I‘m Sarai Amara Hayes and I hate – don’t think much of myself but I’m working on changing and improving my life. I repeated it in my head a few times, and smiled a little.

But you can’t…

---

Twenty-five minutes later my session was over. I didn’t have much to do until my evening classes, so I’d probably go home and meal prep or something.

…Fuck, was that Uncle Miles?

It was. And he clearly fucking saw me. Now he was coming over.

“Sarai, hi. It’s been a while, huh?” he said with a friendly smile.

It had been. A year and a half ago, at one of Clarissa’s birthday parties. “Yeah. Sorry about that.” I was fidgeting, occasionally shooting glances at the building behind us. Was it obviously a therapy building? God, I did not want to talk about that.

“It’s all right…I figured…well, last November Clarissa called me about you and…how is everything?”

“Good. Great.” I sent another glance back towards the building. Miles looked up at it too. A small grimace of realisation flashed over his face. “Uh…I should go.”

“Of course, I’m sure you’re busy.” I really wasn’t. “Oh – remember how you and Clarissa would come over on Fridays?” 

“Yeah…” I fidgeted with my hands and tapped the insides of my feet together. Stop acting weird!

“Well, the kids are coming over for dinner on Friday. You’re welcome to swing by. Great to see you.” He gave me a quick hug and walked off.

---

It took me a while but I decided to join them. Aunt Adela probably wouldn’t mind, and Miles actually invited me, I reasoned. So I called Dianne to ask her if we could carpool over there. I didn’t remember the address.

Dianne had a bit of a laugh. “I know why I’m going. My mom’s cooking. You actually wanna hang out with my parents?” she teased.

“I dunno. It used to be kind of fun going over there…” 

Hopefully it would still be. This time, Clarissa might not be there. And then she couldn’t have shit to say about it. She’d always find a problem with me; I was always too quiet or too loud and I didn’t talk about the right things. I’d always had fun but…now it would be even better, without her to cast a cloud on the night.

They don’t want you around, not when you act like that, and it still sounded a lot like Clarissa. “Get out of my head.” I muttered. “It’s going to be fun. And I’m fine.”

---

Uncle Miles and I had been doing the dishes, mostly in silence, while Aunt Adela chatted to Dianne and Michael. I’d put away the last of the forks when Miles turned to me.

“You don’t…need to be embarrassed.” he said, and I knew what he was talking about.

“I…I’m…”

“It’s OK. What you’re doing…therapy, let’s just say it-” He gave a short, nervous laugh. “-can really help you. I know it helped me…”

He was in therapy? I couldn’t fucking believe it! Of all the people I knew, I wouldn’t have guessed that he… had to do that, and fix himself…was he like me? Yeah, and now he’s a normal fucking person with a family… it’s different…but what if it wasn’t? It’s not very ambitious but having this kind of life…being married and having kids that I can actually fucking raise…it sounds so nice. What if it was something I could do? That’s a faraway dream though. I don’t think it’ll happen.

“Why?” I asked in a small, embarrassed voice.

He sighed. “It was after the accident…after your mother…it was a lot. I knew I needed to do it – and it helped me in more ways than just dealing with what happened to Kendra.” He cleared his throat and patted my shoulder. “Good luck with it.”

“What was she like?” I suddenly burst out. Fuck, shut up! “I never knew, and I’ve just got this…one memory.” I never wanted to ask, after a while. Clarissa never talked about her. She’d close off and turn away. Change the subject.

“Your aunt never…well, I always tried to…well, it’s been so long.” For a few seemingly endless seconds, he was looking past me, appearing stuck somewhere else. “But I’d never forget Kendra…”

1.21 – Right To Cry

---

I told her about the letter Lela had sent me. Nolan was just under six months old and she’d enclosed pictures. He’d grown so much and I felt a pang at missing that. My chest ached all day, dull and heavy with pain.

But you fucking had to do it, because you would have been a shitty, shitty parent and you’d ruin him like you ruin everything else… 

“I made my choice though, why should I still be whining about it? And it’s been months. It’s…it’s pathetic.” 

She raised a hand to stop me. “Sarai, I have noticed that you repeatedly engage in the habit of devaluing your own emotions.”

“What do you mean?” I queried.

She gave a wry little smile. “I remember many times you’ve derided yourself after expressing feelings. If we take today, you told me how you felt when you received the letter from the Foxes, and proceeded-“

“He – he isn’t my son, OK? I don’t want to fight you on this. I know you know what you’re talking about. But I said it – I said it’s ‘fucking stupid’ and that I shouldn’t feel this way because it’s true.” I insisted. Wasn’t it? I was whiny and pathetic and always made everything such a huge deal, from my mom to Nolan to a whole host of little things that didn’t even matter. I needed to get a fucking hold on myself.

“Sarai, when you devalue your own thoughts and emotions, you devalue yourself. You’re telling yourself that what you think and feel don’t matter – therefore, you don’t matter. What’s more, no matter how trivial the situation, attacking it solves nothing.”

I sorta knew she was right. It made a lot of sense. After getting the email, I was upset and all the ‘unfounded negative thoughts’ flooded my mind that whole day. Weak, stupid, you ruin everything, it’s my fault…but it’s true.

I tried to argue back, because I couldn’t just accept I was wrong. “Well…sure, but I can’t…wallow. You have to get over it, don’t you? It’s what – I want to be better.” Don’t even try it. Why are you here? I told myself to shut it and focused on Alessandra.

“You’re thinking in black and white.”

“What do you mean?” I parroted myself from earlier, like a stupid child.

“I want you to think about all you’ve said about this issue. You’ve presented yourself with a false dichotomy, and not just here. It’s likely you treat everything you feel in this way, and haven’t realised it.”

Her eyes darted slightly away from me. OK, think. What does Alessandra want you to say? I have to work this out. What did I say before? It’s ‘fucking stupid’, I said that. She didn’t like it.

“I said I shouldn’t be upset about Nolan…” I recalled aloud. “Because I chose this…and I have to move on…what’s wrong with that? I-I don’t understand! Just tell me!” I pleaded, throwing out my hands. My heart-rate quickened and I bit my lip. She thinks you’re stupid. You’re not good enough, and you can’t do this. Shit, shit, shit…

Her lips quirked slightly upwards. “You also told me that you can’t wallow.”

“So? Isn’t that true? What’s your damn point here? This is-” I snapped.  I had to cut myself off. There I was, being a bitch as usual. I’d been fucking up this whole session, and now she’d…think less of me. My stomach sunk.

…Wait, I should just apologise, right? I tried to tell myself it would be fine, even if I didn’t really believe it. “That was rude. I’m sorry..”

“That’s alright.” said Alessandra. “It’s ordinary to be frustrated. Nothing wrong with that. But it’s also good to recognise it, and not let yourself be consumed by it.”

“I didn’t do that before.” I mentioned in a doleful tone. Pathetic. “I’m not a good person.” Where did that come from? I knew it but never thought about saying it.

“Er…can we stick a pin in that? I won’t forget.” Alessandra said, scribbling something in her notepad. “Let’s go back to the question I posed to you before.”

“Right…” And I thought back to what she’d said after I apologised. It’s ordinary to be frustrated…recognise it and don’t let yourself be consumed. She’d had to give me a fucking hint because I’m too stupid to realise…”There’s a middle ground, isn’t there?” I groaned. “Did I really just…”

“Forget that?” Alessandra gave a small, reassuring smile. “That’s OK, Sarai.”

“Is it? It’s so-

“Remember what we’ve discussed? There is no need to focus on knee-jerk negative thoughts. Instead, we will focus on relearning this middle ground. Because that is how things will get better. Attacking yourself will depress your mood and deplete motivation.”

“And I’m not going to do that anymore.” I insisted. I heard a jeer in my head of I’m not attacking you, you’re pathetic. Telling myself that didn’t exactly lower my mood – I’ve told myself worse – but I was realising that it felt so much better trying to be positive.

---

 

Truthfully, I hadn’t read the entirety of Lela’s email. I admitted as much to Alessandra in my session.

Read it, she’d told me, and let yourself feel whatever comes, and don’t berate yourself for it.

I opened the email for the second time. At only six months, Nolan couldn’t really do much yet. Most of the pictures were of him sleeping or lying in various places, yet I was still enthralled.

But I wasn’t there. All I’d get is pictures. That’s my choice.

Exactly, so stop it! Whiny little-

No. I had to change how I thought or nothing would change for me. That was Alessandra’s message. I’m upset I couldn’t raise him, and that’s OK, I repeated to myself. It was unnatural, because there was so much else that sprang to mind before that mantra. I had to keep going.

Maybe one day it would feel real.

It’s OK, it’s OK…

Tears were running down my face.

I didn’t notice Alexis next to me on the couch. “What’s up?”

I tensed up, and shifted slightly away, without even meaning to. “Uh…” She’d been nothing but nice to me. I could take a chance. “I just got this email from, uh, Lela – she adopted -“

“Oh.” She paused for a second. Of course she didn’t want to hear about my boring life, who does?

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine, I don’t – it’s – it’s stupid, I-“

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s not dumb. Come on. You’re fine. It’s fine. Like, let it out, you know?”

All I could see in Alexis’s expression was concern. Her brows knitted together slightly and her mouth curved downwards a little. She put a hand on my shoulder and reassuringly patted my hand.

I managed to smile a little. The pain was still there but I didn’t ruin anything…it had been OK to cry. Alexis had to go but she didn’t judge me and…

Yeah, it hurt and I still hated myself a little for it. No matter what you tell yourself it’s stupid…but logically, it wasn’t…maybe? Looking at the evidence, which I was supposed to, suggested this. I gave birth to a child who I cared hell of a lot about and then had to give him up. Perhaps this time I had the right to cry.

1.19 – Optimistic

I kept on considering cancelling on the way to Dianne’s place. That little voice kept telling me that I shouldn’t go, that it makes me worse to go, because who would want to hear about your problems, Sarai? But Dianne cared. Mistakenly, I often thought.

Holding onto our friendship was better than screaming at her and making up bullshit about how I didn’t actually like her, like I’d so often done before…add that to the list, I thought to myself.

I tried to push it all away but the cruel little voice kept on saying you’re a screwup and I hate you and you’re terrible. The usual stuff…I’ve heard it all before.

I made it to Dianne’s in the end, and sarcastically congratulated myself a little. Well fucking done, me, I managed to get to my friend’s house. Y’know, like normal people do?

“Hi!” She was as perky and smiley as usual, and even though it was 2.30pm on a Sunday she was still wearing pyjamas. So, at least she’s not the one who took a three hour nap, came a sneering thought. “So what’s up? I’ve been kind of guessing…but I never know with you.”

I bit my knuckle. “Can we sit?”

“Sure. I wasn’t gonna like…hang out with you by my doorway.” We both laughed, though I had to force it.

Maybe she thought we were about to discuss a job offer or a new man (as if) or…something positive. Therapy isn’t a particularly fun topic.

“OK, what’s the thing? What’s the thing? You can tell me.” Her face was so open and kind and reassuring. I knew already that she cared but I really saw it.

“It’s a downer…” I started. “Like, seriously. Serious downer. But I’m just…I…” I groaned and pulled at my hair. All my thoughts were telling me don’t say it, don’t say it, she’ll laugh, because it’s pathetic and you’re being a whiny bitch who thinks her life is so hard-

Dianne shrugged. “So? I’d be a shitty friend if I wasn’t here for you when things aren’t so good, right? I mean, I will end up ranting to you when I inevitably break up with – never mind. Come on, you can talk about…whatever you want.”

I latched onto something else she said. I wasn’t going to be a bad friend and ignore that. “What do you mean, inevitable?” I questioned. “I mean…I thought it were going well.”

“It is.” Dianne rubbed her forehead. “It really is. I just…I don’t know, my track record hasn’t been good recently. Things always start so well, but then I…I don’t know. I get intense in relationships, and I always end up getting jealous about the stupidest shit…. it’s a problem, and it’s why I can’t – hey, weren’t we supposed to be talking about you?”

I preferred this, even if I had no idea how to help Dianne. “Uh…this is fine.” I answered. “I mean…I haven’t had a lot of relationships…I don’t know what to do.” Try any. 

“Yeah. I can talk to someone else.” Dianne decided. You’re useless… why can’t you help?

“Maybe don’t…think it’s inevitable, that it’ll end.” I surprised myself with that. “It could actually go well. If you really like Marcus then…try it. Like I said, it might be really good. Who knows?”

She stared away for a second, her lips pursed and her brow furrowed. Then she smiled. “I will! Absolutely…” And she began to laugh. “I’ve never heard you be so optimistic before!”

I laughed a little too, because really, I couldn’t imagine telling myself things like that. Because you screw everything up and she doesn’t, and that’s something you do know, I angrily reminded myself.

“OK. Now let’s hear your thing. Talk to me.” she practically ordered.

Perhaps it was wrong to think this way, but now I knew she had a weakness, I felt better sharing my own. “I…do you think I should get therapy?” I rushed out.

There. I said it. You shouldn’t have.

Dianne went very still. She bit her bottom lip and let out a breath. “I’ll be honest with you…short answer…yes. You seem a little depressed right now.”

No, you’re just whiny and pathetic! And for one wild moment I wanted to shout something along those lines at her. Instead, I gave a quiet scoff, and tried to smile a little. “No, no.” I backtracked quickly. “It’s not a big deal.”

But it was, wasn’t it? Until Dianne reached out to me, I had no real relationships in my life, and there’s a huge gap in my soul and most of what I think about is how much I hate myself. The thoughts vary but it all comes down to you’re not good enough.

Because you’re not. And there it was. Being aware of the cruel little voice didn’t make it go away. And it doesn’t make it all less true.

Dianne rolled her eyes. “It kind of sounded like it. And fine, maybe you’re not depressed. I don’t know.” She threw up her hands. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t go to therapy. I mean…don’t tell me it hasn’t been a tough time for you. You went through a lot in the last year.”

Yeah, so do a lot of people, came a savage thought. You’re not special. You’re just a disappointing mess who can’t handle your own life and decisions. But even though that was all true, she had a point. Last year was eventful. And whether it was warranted or not, recently I had been sorta upset. “I mean…kind of.” I admitted.

“I’ll just say this…if you think it’ll improve your life, you should do it.”

“Right…” I was disconcerted by how normally we were discussing this. I bet she pities you now. 

“And, for the record, I’m not judging you. I have like, three friends and two exes who’ve seen a therapist. I didn’t break up with them because of that.” she assured me, laughing a little. “Actually…I think Zac broke up with me. But never mind.”

I chuckled along with her. “Thanks.”

There was a pause.

“And I’ve never seen College Cram.” I admitted.

Dianne gave me a knowing smile. “Once I told a guy I read the entire War of Crowns series. Which I haven’t. He didn’t even like them that much.” She scratched the side of her head. “I don’t even know why I did that.”

---

I swallowed as I approached the building. 107 Maple Lane, 1st floor. Dr Alessandra LeBlanc.

This isn’t going to work. It was a bad idea. Face it, you’re just pathetic. You’ll always be pathetic. 

But I’d spent way too much money to chicken out, and since I’ve already paid, what is there to lose?

If it’ll improve your life, you should do it. I’d thought about what Dianne had said every day for a week. That’s probably what made me stick to this and actually get an appointment. Maybe it would improve my life, I’d reasoned. That’s what all those webpages said.

It wouldn’t hurt to try.

1.18 – Why Am I Like This

I tried put a lot of that outing out of my mind. It was a regrettable experience, and I’d realised it wasn’t a real solution to anything at all.

I used to think I felt better when I was with a man. But once I was alone again the high faded and I was left as just…me again.  How did it take so damn long to realise this? Am I actually just stupid? Why can’t I find something that –

You’re so whiny, I said to myself.

Work and exercise would have to do for now, wouldn’t they? It had always been the best thing to do whenever I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I hate myself and everything I’ve done wrong and the people I’ve let down, except then I’d still end up thinking about it.

And recently I was managing to keep up a friendship with Dianne, who I don’t deserve in the slightest but she’s somehow still around…but I don’t see her as often as I’d really like. It is fun, but often I sit there thinking both why don’t you leave and please don’t leave, somehow at the same time. Gets kind of stressful. (Why can’t I be happy around other people who I actually like? What’s wrong with me?)

I used to try and tell myself that I was fine the way I was, hopping from person to person. It was their fault. They tried to cling too tightly and they shouldn’t have bothered. I don’t need them. That was the narrative. Later on, I stopped trying to cover it up. You don’t deserve them, wasn’t that the reason all along…?

One thing was clear: it’s not just the adoption. I’m just…like this. I’ve always been like this.

You will always be like this.

---

All day, I’d wanted to talk to someone about my little revelation, but who? Alexis…no, I don’t even know her that well even though we’ve been roommates for over a year now. Clarissa? Please.

I wasn’t going to spring this on Dianne. I didn’t want to inflict myself on her; she was so happy recently. Half our time together recently had been me listening to her gush about Marcus. I didn’t mind. Her cheery mood was enjoyable, and I wasn’t going to rain on her parade.

So I sat in my bedroom instead. On my bed…

Then at the desk I barely used…

It was really boring.

I got out my phone and typed ‘why am i like this’ into the search bar. I wasn’t sure why. I was just really bored.

(Also, why am I like this?)

There were a load of videos and memes at the top of the page. The first webpage result had the headline ‘What is wrong with me? Why am I like this?’

There were lots more headlines like it. I’m sure you’re all fine people. I thought it about all the nameless, faceless people who had posted. Yeah, unlike you, was another sneering thought running alongside it.

I put ‘what’s wrong with me’ into the search bar next.

‘Health, help, happiness and finding a therapist!’ came up.

A therapist…maybe…I could feel a bit less shit? I don’t know…

Because I don’t actually need therapy, do I? I’m OK. I function and generally do well enough at life. Apart from getting pregnant unexpectedly and then losing it over an adoption that was totally necessary…which you absolutely knew! 

But that’s all over now, and life’s back to normal. There’s people who have it a lot worse than you, remember that, I reminded myself. I’m lucky. I grew up comfortably and I have a fairly stable job. Isn’t my life fine?

Well sure it is…but maybe it could be better. For one thing, I could stop feeling the urge to sleep with random guys just because I need to be wanted. Wouldn’t that be a nice start?

But you’re not doing that again anyway, you decided, and you’re fine, I reminded myself.

My phone beeped with a reminder.

Shit! Evening class! Go! You’re about to be later because you were too busy whining…

---

On Sunday, I taught my usual morning yoga classes and then slept for three hours…because what else was I going to do? And I’m always so tired.

I was picking at lettuce leaves when my phone rang; it was Dianne. I’d stopped deliberating before answering her calls. Just because you need her, I tauntingly thought as I picked up the phone.

“Hey, stranger. What’s up?” she greeted. “No, but seriously. How are you?”

“Uh…I’m alright.”

“Cool. Cool. Hey, do you wanna go see the new College Cram movie? It’s on near you at 7, I think. I know they’re really stupid but it’ll be fun.”

“Guilty pleasures, what can you do?” I chuckled nervously. “They are…pretty stupid. Yeah.” Damn! You could have just said you’ve never seen any of them. What the hell is wrong with you?

There was an awkward pause.

“Sarai?”

“Can I talk to you? Face-to-face?” I suddenly blurted. Wait! Shit! We’re not even that close! I can’t just ask her if I…

Well, it’s not like you have anyone else. The cruel little voice was laughing. Could it just…shut up?

“Yeah!” Dianne sounded a lot happier about my request than I expected.

She’s faking it, she pities you-

“No. Wait. It’s fine. I’m sorry. You’re probably busy-”

“Well…let me see. It’s Sunday afternoon, Marcus is out of town and I’ve done nothing all day but watch episodes of Beautiful Deceivers.” she answered, laughing a little. “I’m completely free.”

“It’s fine. Watch your TV show.” I immediately replied.

What am I doing? Why would I ask to talk and then immediately start backtracking and blowing her off? Seriously, why am I like this?

“Sarai! It’s not even a good show! I’m really bored. Seriously, let’s hang out!” She sounded frustrated. I could picture her rolling her eyes, and throwing her free hand out in an annoyed gesture.

“Sorry. I’ll be there soon.” I told her.

Dianne didn’t argue. I hung up, grabbed my hoodie, wallet and phone and left the confines of my room behind.

I don’t even know how I’m going to say this shit…but I think I need to say it. Or I might just never know…

Probably ruin her day. Go home.

I looked up at my apartment building. Going home sounded really unappealing. I want to see Dianne; why can’t I let myself?

So many thoughts told me that this was a bad idea, and I shouldn’t bother. I’d ruin her Sunday. She’d think I’m as pitiful and pathetic as I think I am. We’d stop hanging out. Things would get weird.

1.16 – Void

---

This might be the worst I’ve felt in my entire life. The worst I remember, anyway.

It was humiliating to go into labour at a cafe near my house while in the line to pay for over-sugared calorie-laden cake (for breakfast at that, but that’s pregnancy cravings for you), and having to run into the bathroom while people stared…

I hated calling Dianne even more. Why are you…inflicting this on her? Why would she want to do this? Help you? She was so sweet and understanding and was trying to be calming even while I panicked and screamed in the back seat of her car.

She asked if she should come in with me but I told her I was OK and that she should just go home, even though in the back of my mind I kind of wanted her to stay.

I told Dianne and the Foxes that I had someone with me. But it was a lie. I gave birth alone and it was painful and miserable and I’d randomly cry, maybe because of the pain or what I knew I was going to give up or both. But it was my own fault. Then I got the painkiller and it went a lot faster…

I held him once, and then Lela and Darren took him off me, to be their son instead. They’ll do such a good job with him, I can tell. That’s why I chose them to take him off my hands.

Well, he’s Nolan now. Nolan Samuel Fox. Their son, their name.

Lela and Darren told me I was free to write to him, when he gets older. “I think we’re going to tell him, it shouldn’t be a secret.” Lela had said.

I agreed, but I wasn’t really focusing. My head was swimming and I was absolutely exhausted. My emotions were a mess.

It’s limited contact, and I’ve been telling myself I’m fine with that all throughout the pregnancy but it didn’t feel fucking fine! And it still doesn’t now.

Now more than ever, I feel alone. Maybe I’ve always been alone. But giving birth to my – no, a – son and giving him up has left this massive void and the void is bigger than him. It started just being his size, but then I started to think about all the other relationships that fill up a person’s heart and I realised just what else is missing…

I can’t hold down any connections, and constantly get rid of people because…I don’t quite know why I got rid of some of them. Still I did it, without a good reason.

That’s probably why I’ve been so lonely all these years…stupid bitch.

Quite a few just ditched me. But with others, the guys who gave a fuck and tried, and a lot of roommates…I threw their efforts in their face, every fucking time, and why? Why did I do that?

Because you’re not worth them sticking around…it’s obvious. Why should anyone waste their time on you? Don’t I ask myself that question at every turn? The answer’s obvious.

I couldn’t help wishing that they did. An unstable string of flings and shallow friendships that I knew would never last wasn’t optimal but it was better than…nothing.

I’ve never had any real friends or loves and now I’m stuck being alone. Too scared to confide in anyone about how much all of this is…fucking me up. And it’s all my fault.

1.15 – Mistake

I’d only just sat down with some shitty rom-com when I heard a knock. Who the hell would be coming over?

…Actually, I had an idea of it, considering the annoyed texts I’d received from Clarissa this morning. She’d emailed me over a week ago about her fifty-fourth birthday. I hadn’t seen her in months, not since my twenty-third, and that was months ago.

Probably-Clarissa knocked again.

Motherfucker, I am not ready for this…it’s gonna be fucking terrible, I thought. The littlest things set her off, and now I’d made the biggest mistake of all. She’d just start screaming and I’d just have to stand there and take it like I have all my damn life…

I’m not in the mood…

“I can get that!” Alexis offered from the kitchen. “You should probably like…stay off your feet and stuff. I don’t know much, but…yeah. Door.”

Quit caring. And for the love of God don’t answer it.

Too late.

“Sarai’s latest roommate, I suppose?” Clarissa’s snotty, barking voice made me cringe. I wanted to disappear.

I stood anyway.

Alexis was taken aback. “Yeah, that’s…that’s me. You’re her aunt?”

“Obviously. Now where-” Her eyes flickered down to my very obvious baby bump, and then up to meet my eyes. I could see her nostrils flaring, her brows and eyes narrowing, and the pure venom in her glare. That rage was pretty familiar. Sickening, too.

Fuck, this would be bad.

“Excuse me, but could we have some privacy? My niece and I?” The tightened jaw. The choked-up angry tone. Fuuuuck. I was already on edge. My feet tapped nervously and I twisted my hands a little.

“I – well, I’ve kind of got pasta cooking here – but sure…” I could barely stand the pitying look she gave me as she went into her bedroom. Ugh, what did she think?

She walked away and Clarissa sat me down.

Clarissa rounded on me the second Alexis’s door closed. “I think it’s obvious you have a lot of explaining to do, Sarai! I mean…God, what is wrong with you and just what the hell are you doing?” She was screaming right at me and it wasn’t surprising, but it was fucking painful.

There’s a lot wrong with you, she’s right. I jeered the words at myself.

“Please, it’s-”

“You know you’re not ready for this, don’t you?” She rubbed her forehead. “God, it’s like Kendra all over again-”

I felt a little of my own rage bubbling up inside me. “Don’t talk about my mom-”

“Right, sorry…I guess that isn’t relevant.”

Damn right it isn’t.

“Nope.” I mumbled.

“Why wouldn’t you say anything? If you’re going to go through with…this…” She gestured at my stomach and screwed up her face. Her disgust was evident. “…then surely you’d tell someone?”

“I did.” I answered. “Alexis knows.”

“And who’s the damn father?” she snapped.

“None of your business!” I cried. “Why are you even here? You clearly don’t give a shit about me! Could you just leave?”

Of course she stayed put. “Now Sarai,” she began, in a patronising, poison-honey tone. “There’s no need to throw a tantrum. Of course I care. I just want to know if you’ve thought about this…properly.”

“I’ve definitely thought, and that’s wh-”

“About yourself.” Clarissa cut me off. “Of course you’d think it’s a great idea, wouldn’t you? Just think about your child? I swear, you’re just chasing some dream…that really, no-one would have expected you to have. Because, really, how could you possibly take care of a child? Just take a look at yourself!”

There was thick, tense silence in the air for a few seconds. I felt tears coming and I bit my lip, willing them to stop. I couldn’t let her see me cry.

Did she think I was that stupid? I know I can’t do this…that’s why I made arrangements already. All she did was fuck up my evening and make me feel bad.

Ha, you-

I shut up that cruel inner voice, wiped my eyes and raised my head, fixing my eyes on hers. “I’m giving him up for adoption.” You didn’t let me mention that, you stupid cow, because you were too busy reminding me that I’m some unworthy failure mistake of a niece who you didn’t even want. “And I don’t want to come to your fucking party.”

Clarissa stood up. She sneered at me. “One sensible decision. Oh good job, Sarai. And for what it’s worth, I don’t want you there if you’re like this.” She gestured at my stomach, turned on her heel and left the apartment.

I wanted to forget the whole conversation and watch my film but I broke.

I wished I could justify it as hormones, but it was more than that. And I started thinking to myself…that never leads anywhere good.

I guess she said what she really thought.

Am I really…ruined now? That’s what she implied, isn’t it? No-one will want me…it doesn’t even matter; no-one does right now. Whatever.

She’s a bitch but she’s right so stop fucking crying about it. 

I was still crying as Alexis made her way back to her precious pasta. She opened her mouth a few times, like she was going to ask something, but then thought better of it.

Well…that was good, wasn’t it…why would I want to talk about this? And why would she want to listen?

---

So far this was a lot better than Clarissa’s fifty-fourth. And Dianne agreed with me.

She was the one who had asked me to grab dinner in lieu of attending, and I actually said yes. I know…but it really seemed like she wanted to hang out with me. Maybe I upset her all that time ago. Maybe…

“Hey, we’ve had some actual damn fun tonight.” Dianne smiled.

I laughed. “Yeah, we have. Uh…thanks, Dianne.”

“No problem.” she said.