Her Name was Ana

Loneliness makes us a vulnerable species. When we are lonely, we crave anything that will allow us not to feel lonely. No one minds being alone, but most feel uncomfortable being lonely. To be lonely is to feel completely alone and helpless with no one to turn to and no where to run when things get tough. You could say when one is lonely, their true colours are shown, however if that is true, no one would be there to see it.
My loneliness was unending. Ever since my childhood, I was lonely. I wasn’t considered an outcast because I was a pretty normal child with a pretty normal life. I just wasn’t a people person. However, I craved human interaction, but my painful shyness prevented me from putting myself out there. I had very few close friends in my life none of which I could share this story with.
In about 9th or 10th grade, I can’t recall which because everything runs together in my head now, I met Ana. She was the first real friend I had had in a long time. She was the only one who understood my woes and my pleasures. She got who I was and wanted to be my friend and really get to know who I was. She didn’t assume I was just the weird girl who didn’t talk to anyone, she plunged headfirst into the world that was my mind and craved to understand who I really was, not who I had been made out to be by my fellow peers. No one else seemed to acknowledge the existence of Ana which suited her fine. We were both loners outside the normal social spectrum and had no issue being on our own. I needed Ana and she needed me. I was lonely and she wanted a friend. We were very similar in many ways, however she was more outgoing than I.
Ana was changed my life in many ways I never thought possible. Without her, I would have never become popular and well liked by my peers. I didn’t enjoy the company of many of my peers and often shied away from this spotlight Ana had brought upon me. I preferred to be alone or with a few friends. I wasn’t the most confident person and was often displeased with my appearance and personality in the way many women are these days. Ana helped me change all of that. She transformed me from an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan. Excuse the cliche, but it was true. I went from an outcast to a social butterfly. A peasant to a princess. Any of those dumb cliches you can come up with Ana gave to me. I needed her. I couldn’t live without her. It was love, but it wasn’t real. She didn’t need me as much as I needed her. She wanted me, but did not desire me the way I wanted to have her. I don’t mean this at all in a sexual way. Like I said, I was a lonely person and just wanted one true friend. That came to me in Ana.
She whispered things to me and told me how great I could become if I followed her. She led me down a new and unfamiliar path. But then I began to see how this wasn’t me at all. I wasn’t myself anymore, I had become Ana. I told her I wanted to stop and I didn’t want to play her games anymore. I was done. I had new friends now and her newer and harsher demeanor was getting in the way of what once had been a special friendship. She told me I was weak. She told me she would leave if I didn’t pull myself together. I wanted her to be gone, but I couldn’t let her go. She was a part of me now, and I needed her like I needed air in my lungs. I endured for Ana. My life became Ana. I had Ana and she had me.
One day I woke up and I couldn’t get out of bed. When I finally did, my legs couldn’t support me and I fell and passed out. I could hear Ana laughing at me and telling me how weak I was. I wanted to tell her to stop, but it was too much effort to even breathe. I woke up in the hospital tied to machines and heard my heart beating in a steady beat. I couldn’t see Ana anywhere. She had left me alone in this place. The doctor said I was sick and it was Ana’s fault. I didn’t believe them. She loved me. She would never hurt me. She wanted me to be better. She wanted to change me. I needed her. She wanted me. They said if I didn’t get rid of her, she was going to kill me. But I couldn’t get rid of her ever. I don’t know why they thought she was going to kill me. I was fine. Better than fine. I was grand. I was pretty, popular, and not so socially scared anymore thanks to Ana. But she had left me alone. Where was she? I needed her then but she wasn’t there. She was my best friend. The doctor said I needed to eat and sleep. I couldn’t recall the last time I had done either.
It’s many years later now as I write and reflect on this period in my life. Ana is dead now. I was forbidden to see her after I left the hospital, but I returned to my house to find her waiting for me. I told her I had to move on with my life and leave her. She left me for a while, but came back. I was lonely. I relapsed back to her. The cycle continued for a significant amount of time. My loneliness, Ana’s company. My sickness, Ana’s fault. My weakness, Ana’s strength. Until one day when I almost went back to her, I ran away. I ran away from her. Her parasitic nature and her deadly curse. I had to get her out of me in order to safely continue with my pathetic life. Ana is dead now. She has been for a while. I miss her. Sometimes when I’m particularly sad or lonely, I see her in a dream or on the street, but I remember she isn’t real anymore. I don’t need her. She won’t control me. This makes me sad a lot. But I remind myself I am stronger than she ever was and sometimes I feel a little better.
As I reflect on my time with Ana, I truly see how dangerous she was to me. But at that moment, I didn’t care. I needed a friend and she was there. It wasn’t her fault I was lonely. Loneliness makes us desperate and strange creatures that are open to many things. That’s where Ana fit into my life.