The Vicious Cycle

Some stories reflect the pain felt by others. Some are meant to exact vengeance. Some share wisdom or insight. This isn't one of those stories. This is a story about how love can slip from our grasps.

She lay in her bed, swathed in the comforting blanket of darkness, waiting impatiently for sleep to overtake her. She turned on her side, adjusting her head on her hard and unyielding pillow. She opened her eyes painfully, feeling the uncomfortable prick in the corners, as if they were protesting being interrupted from their process. Her thoughts nagged at her, she couldn't escape them at this moment. She sat up and hugged her knees to her chest, pulling her comforter and quilts around her. She was at a loss. What could she do to? She wished more than anything for her to go back to normal, to revert back to the way she was, the way she felt. She'd just hung up on him, their conversation tight and awkward, him interrupting her, or she stepping on his words. They'd said their "I love you's" and their usual "Goodnight sweetie's." But hers had fallen flat, hollow and meaningless. She laid back down, filled with remorse. How could things have changed so fast?

A year ago, He had been simply her friend. Her best friend. Even though miles separated them, they'd know each other for years, and always spared a few hours every week or so to catch up and commiserate about their respective love lives. He would complain about failed conquests, he would gently offer her advice on how to deal with her increasingly difficult relationship. The guy she was with was growing more jealous, angry, and controlling by the day. She didn't know how to cope, and as things with her boyfriend went from bad to worse, she talked to her best friend more and more. He'd look at her with his sympathetic dark brown eyes when they skyped, and he'd tell her she was beautiful. He'd tell her things her boyfriend never said, that she was "dazzling" and that she was "the most beautiful soul." As time wore on, she found herself longing for love from her best friend. She'd never voice this desire aloud to him, she didn't want to lose their friendship if it turned out he didn't feel the same way. So she kept silent, and continued to date her boyfriend, even though she knew she didn't love him anymore. She'd fallen in love with someone else.

A few months after this realization, she'd sat down to Skype with her best friend once again, excited after not seeing him for so long. She'd been away at a summer program, and he'd been in a foreign country. She was currently dating someone new, a sweet and good natured boy she'd recently met after a messy breakup with her previous angry boyfriend. She lit up the instant she laid eyes on her best friend. How mature, how grown up he looked! They talked excitedly for the first few hours, about their respective travels, their lives, their anxieties of the future. What made him so special and unique to her was that they could never run out of things to talk about. With most people, even close friends, an hour of talking is usually draining enough, and then the conversation usually ends. But with him, they'd talk until the sun went down and rose again. They'd done it before. 

After the fourth hour, they began talking more intimately. She read a piece she'd written a long time ago, about her old boyfriend, her frustrations, her pain over their relationship. When she'd finished, she was surprised to see her best friend staring off into space, a peculiar look on his face. 

"I was so...so jealous of him." He uttered softly, almost to himself more than her. 

"Why?" She asked, terrified of what his answer might be. Terrified if it wasn't what she hoped it would be, and terrified if it was. 

"I.." He broke off, shaking his head. He then looked dead in her eyes, unflinching, unafraid. "I was so in love with you."

She couldn't speak. Her voice was caught in her throat, her heart thrummed painfully fast in her ears. All this time, all this wondering, and he had felt the same way. 

"I loved you too." she whispered.

A few months after this revelation, they talked almost every single night, until the early hours of the morning. They were still in love. But he refused to do anything more about it. They wouldn't be able to actually be with each other for months, there would only be pain if they tried to date in a long distance relationship. As seasoned veterans of long distance relationships, they both knew the perils and the pain that lay in them. But she knew with him, it could be different. She'd never loved anyone this much before. Never felt this connection, this certainty that he was the one. She'd never been a believer in matrimony, her parents were poor examples to go off on, but for the first time, she could picture her future with someone. With him. So she continued to hold onto hope, despite their agreements to make efforts to move on, to pursue things with other people. None of those pursuits ever amounted to anything.

They made it official after he'd paid her a surprise visit. Orchestrating a big setup with one of her other friends, he'd shown up, out of nowhere, carrying roses and wearing a wide smile. She'd gone into shock, then thrown her arms around him, and kissed him for the first time, while her other friend secretly took pictures for posterity. That night, she went with him to his hotel. After never having been with him, she fell into a pattern as natural as breathing. He wrapped an arm around her waist while they walked. She'd rub his shoulder while he drove. They held hands underneath tables, twisted their legs around each other, she sat in his lap, he touched her face, tucked her hair behind her ears. They had to constantly reassure each other that the other was really there, not separated by a computer screen. She slept with him that night, and even after he'd gotten on his plane the next day, she could still close her eyes and feel his arms around her. She could still taste his kiss on her lips, feel the warmth and weight of his body on hers. She could remember how it felt to wake up tangled together, her face tucked gently in the hollow of his neck, his chin barely touching her forehead. She knew she wouldn't see him again for a month or so until his prom, but until then, her memories would keep her going.

She flew out for his senior prom the next month, wanting to give him the best night of his life. Those few days were a mere blur of kisses, beer, warm nights spent drinking in each others company, and ecstatic adventures. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so content, so happy to just be. Being with him made every second something to treasure, to tuck away and take out the next moment she felt sad or alone. When she had to leave, to return home and face the wrath of her parents  (who believed she'd run away) they stood in the airport, in front of security for almost twenty minutes. Their fingers intertwined, whispering in each others ears tearfully, terrified to let go. When she finally walked away, past the point of no return, she turned back one last time to see him beaming at her, tears flowing freely down his face. It wasn't until she was sitting, seatbelt fastened, in her cramped seat that she allowed herself to break down. She didn't stop crying until the plane landed.

Now here she was. Lying in her bed, thoughts racing through her mind. As she went through each moment they'd spend together, she searched for an instant where things had changed. Where their love had gone sour, where they'd stopped being in sync. She couldn't find one. She desperately kept thinking though, trying to prevent the ultimate conclusion that the reason was her. That she couldn't love normally, that she was broken somehow, and she'd broken him. He still loved her, she knew, she could hear it in his voice when they talked now. The tired pleading tone, when she told him she couldn't talk, she had to study for AP's, SAT's, and exams. He was a senior, done with school for good. She had to get ready, to finish this year on a strong note, to impress colleges next year. He became sad, despondent, when she told him she didn't have time for him. She tried to reason with herself, to coax herself into spending time with him. But it was useless. She couldn't do it anymore, and there was no rational reason for it. She remembered how she'd felt, how she'd loved him so deeply it scared her, and it felt like it had been someone else who'd gone through that, not her.

She rubbed her tired eyes, watching through her blinds as the sky began to lighten. The last time she'd felt so tired was when they'd stayed up talking late, back last august, almost a year ago. That had been a warm night. She'd been lying down in bed, her phone propped up on her ear as she'd let her eyelids droop down farther with each passing minute. She listened to him telling her a story, lacking the will power to respond anymore. After 10 minutes, he had believed that she was asleep. She wasn't, but she let him think it for a moment, curious to find out what he'd do. He was silent for a moment. Then he whispered, still talking to her, 

"You saved me." He said. "I was spiraling after my mom died two years ago. I had stopped feeling anything, knowing even how to feel. The pain was gone, but so was the happiness. You taught me how to feel again. How to love. How to care. No matter what happens, I will never forget that. You are my saving grace."

Now, she knew. She knew for certain. She couldn't love him anymore. She didn't love him anymore.

Author's Note

please comment!

Reviews

[diannesam]

absolutely LOVED this!! The first paragraph is really captivating as well! keep it up! reading your chapters as well :)

[diaphanous]

thank you :) i can't wait to read your next chapter!