The disorder and the thrill kept your interest, and prevented you from getting bored. Like the one before; too nice, sweet, and they gave too many hallmark cards. Love is supposed to be passionate and we lose ourselves in passion all the time, right? When your coworkers asked how it happened, you said you clumsily fell and hit your head on the coffee table. They know you’re poor and live in a packed apartment so they brushed it off. Why did they just brush it off?
You felt insignificant at work because of the people around you. Talk about better than you…They were thinner, more intelligent, and had the desired aura of confidence that was wrapped up in both intimidation and kindness. You wanted to be all these things but you weren’t. Perhaps that was the reason none of them seemed to like you. They made it well known they hated you. They called you names during their breaks so loudly that it was obvious they were talking about you. Were you really as dumb as they said? Were you really such an outcast?
Telling the one you loved at your crammed apartment didn’t help. Your coworkers made you drive home crying. The one at home made you drive to work the next day, embarrassed. Love is foolish, you know that now. The fact that your one and only angel can have the nerve to agree with the demonic thoughts people think of you, simply proves this theory. Love just becomes another living hell you have to hide from. You were stressed, they were stressed.
To them, crying over “stupid work s***” was weak and your own fault. They started screaming and cursing at you. Their words echoed inside your aching brain. “We can’t afford to screw up!” “Stupid.”… “Weak.” If you question their confusing, drunken rant just once…They lose it and sock you in the face with their glass. A biting slit of skin and a dull shot of pain will greet you, as will a slurred apology two hours later.
A mistake is a mistake, right? You were stressed, they were stressed. Right? The next evening, an unexpected knock hit the door. Seeing the guests’ badges, you had no choice but to let them in and answer their vague questions. They didn’t just brush it off after all? You passed the test, as did your angel whose halo turned into a pair of horns while they lied to the police. When they left, you didn’t recognize the person you were left with. They were furious. Threw things, shouted insults towards your way. Called you everything the people at work did.
You believed you were worthless and insignificant. You believed it as they said it, you believed it as they heavily pounded your eye, and you believed it as they knocked you unconscious on the table. Betrayal. Pain. Unbearable pain. You believed it when you woke up and crawled to the medicine cabinet at two in the morning to swallow an entire container of pills. And you probably still believe it now, as I write this in memory of you.