“Sometimes I have good days. Days without the depression and bullshit. Days that shine and are dandeliony”, She sighed, continuing.

“But then I get bad days. Days that swallow me up. Days where it rains and weeds grow into my soul. It’s days like that, that make ya wanna give up, ya know? Kinda makes ya sad. Makes ya wanna crawl into bed and cry for 16 years. Or, at least, cry until you can’t anymore.” She looked up and expected a reaction. All therapists react eventually. But not Nancy. Oh no, she was stone faced. Then her therapist’s mouth opened and she cringed at the sound of, “And how does that make you feel” spewing out of her therapist’s chapped purple painted lips. They all say that. “How does that make you feel?”, like she didn’t just freaking tell you her life story and a half. Pisses her off every time, and she always ends up storming out. Today was no exception.

****

He paced all morning long. He was reciting what he was going to say and then reciting it again and again and again. Even though they had been dating for over three years now, he was nervous. He was sweating and realized that it was a stupid move to buy flowers the day before. With a sigh and a quick straightening of his tie, he looked in the mirror before rushing out the door with flowers in hand.

“ I don’t normally do this type of thing,” she said.

“I know,” He replied as He looked her over. He laughed as she crossed her slender arms, hiding the horrible things she didn’t want him to see. He felt the air get tense and start to buzz with her shy aura. He reached gently for her hands, and she recoiled sharply away from him. He smiled, reassuring her that he would keep her safe, always.

“I don’t think I can do this” Her voice shook and he paused, gently prying her hands away from her sides and flipping her arms over. He frowned as his eyes shifted slowly up her arms. He bit his lip and watched the red gashes grow longer and deeper the higher that his eyes climbed.

He sighed.

“You are beautiful. I love you. I promised from day one to never give up on you. And I never will”

He smiled sadly and watched her get some of the color back into her cheeks. He kissed her hand, smoothed her hair, and opened the door to their awaiting car.

He remembers watching people out of the corner of his eyes point and whisper about her. He remembers silently daring them to say anything her face. He remembers watching her twirl and laugh and not worry for the first time in her life.

He remembers holding her that night as she collapsed, drunk, into his arms.

She cried and told him that she did not deserve him. She told him to leave. She

pushed me away and you told me never to come back.

He should have never left her alone in her apartment on 25th and Broadway. He should have told her. He should have gotten her into bed and stroked her hair until she fell asleep.

But he didn’t stay. He didn’t tell her. He didn’t take her to her bed and he didn’t run his fingers through her hair until she fell asleep.

And now she’s gone. He remembers falling to his knees as He read the note addressed to him in the scribbles of a shaky palm. She had written,

“Please don’t be sad. Now, I really believe that you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me.”

He still cries. Every day.
“I’m so sorry”