Writing From a Desk in the Dark: Chapter 6

It’s spring, the rain pooling on the rooftops below as I write this, reflecting the streetlights. The dreary weather brings a sense of nostalgia. Soon it’ll be summer term and everyone leaves again. Some for good. I’m always scared that my friends will forget me over summer. I never had a solid friend group of people I could rely on. From elementary to high school, I was always the outcast. No one wanted to play with me or work with me in class. In middle school I had one friend, but the rest of our friend group only sometimes tolerated me, more often excluding me. In high school, no one spoke to me for two years.

My final year I had two friends, but my classmates were still cruel. They’d offer friendship only to stab me in the back, spreading horrible rumors about me. I was accused of everything from stealing someone’s boyfriend to prostituting myself to one of the athletes in exchange for protection from bullies. None of it was true. Everyone believed it. Then a month before school ended, they finally realized I was an actual person with feelings. It was too late.

I left behind my two friends for the university. One of them ghosted me for a year, despite the fact that his girlfriend (now ex) bullied me for over a year prior. He never once stood up for me. I don’t trust him anymore. We send each other photos of our artwork, but I’ll never tell him what’s in my heart again.

The other friend from back home is fairly unreliable. We’ll text and occasionally call, but she only replies to my messages a month after I send them. Still, whenever I’m in town she makes an effort to see me, even if it’s terribly inconvenient for her. It's painful, knowing that I am rarely a priority to the friends I left behind, when they're always on my mind. Every little thing still reminds me of them two years later. 

A couple of my friends are graduating. We have two weeks left, then I’ll probably never see them again. The nicest person I’ve ever met is leaving and I can’t even be mad about it. She’s been bullied at the University and in this city pretty badly, much worse than I ever was. She finally gets to leave, to go somewhere where no one knows her. I start crying every time I think of her going. My coworkers are leaving, people I wish I’d taken a chance on earlier. We have vastly different beliefs. I only recently made an effort to get to know them. They’re amazing and they’ll be gone in two weeks.

All I ever wanted was a group of friends, people who would stay. A group of four or five of us to do fun things, have a game night, go to campus events together. And they wouldn’t leave until I did. No matter how weird I am, no matter how bad a place I’m in mentally, they’d stay. I’d be there for them and we’d have each other’s backs. They wouldn’t hurt me or abandon me like everyone else does. I’ll never have that. I can barely even make one friend. I would do almost anything just to have someone there for me.

It feels like my heart’s being shredded, physically ripped apart with the realization that I’m unlikely to ever get what I want. It’ll be four months before I see any of my University friends. With every year that passes we grow more distant. The younger students want nothing to do with me. The older ones don’t want more friends. And I’m alone.

The only one who’s still here is Aaron. Not physically, since he goes home every weekend to help with his brothers. We weren’t good for each other, but we’ve untangled part of our knot. I took a chance asking him a question plaguing me for over a year. His answer was both the best and the worst I had hoped for. It brought us closer.

I can’t cling to him all the time, like he’s my last chance to get what I want. It’s not fair to either of us. I can’t be mad at my friends for leaving a place that holds them back, for getting away from memories of pain. It’s not fair to them. And I can’t make my sadness their emotional burden.

So I cry by myself as I sit writing from this desk in the dark. Tears welling up in my eyes, spilling over, running down my fair. My breath comes short and choppy as I quietly start sobbing. I’m terrified. No matter where I go, what I do, I’ll always end up alone.