Love Can't Conquer All

Some people think it can conquer all; love I mean. I can't really understand why they think this, but they do. I've never been in that group of people who think it can because I really don't believe in that kind of stuff. Guess I'm just kind of negative that way. This isn't about me though.

My friend is one of those people. He's always believed in all that good stuff in life, like that there's good in everybody, someday there will be peace, blah, blah, blah. I kept telling him, though, that love and optimism would get him nowhere. At least not the love that he had for one girl.

She carried a bad reputation with her wherever she went, but especially at school. It was said that she did drugs, that she was a prostitute, she cheated on tests, skipped school all the time, ran away from home – the list could go on. Most of the rumours were spawned by the jealousy of the female populace envious of her beauty and the many guys she'd rejected in the past. Even I had become jealous of her beauty on several occasions, but never enough to try and bring her down.

This friend of mine happened to be one of those attracted to her. Like I said before, I warned him of her, especially since I knew at least one of the rumours was true. She'd deny it, but I knew the smell of weed. That shit's so vile and offensive to my nose that I could smell it a mile away, figuratively speaking. On top of the weed, I expected that she had other drugs in her system as well, though I had no proof of that.

What a shocker it was when this girl accepted to being my friend's girlfriend. Many people were peeved, to say the least, and my friend instantly became victim to the sudden attack of rumours as well. People would say that she was only dating him because he was her pimp or because he was her dealer, or vice versa. He'd always tell me not to worry about it, because I did, and he always told me that he didn't worry about it. He said that as long as he and his girlfriend had each other and their friends then the rumours wouldn't get either of them. He said that they would go away anyway when they saw the change that would happen. He was convinced that his love could change everything.

I wasn't. I wasn't convinced of anything, but I supported him nonetheless because he was my friend. I knew he had good intentions.

I was increasingly surprised when I had encounters with his girlfriend. She really did seem to be changing bit by bit and the stench of weed was on her less and less. I began to think that maybe my friend was right; maybe their love for each other could change the bad and make it good. Damn it, they were putting optimism in me! That, unfortunately, didn't last long though.

After a while, I noticed things started to go downhill. While they didn't break up per se, there was more and more tension between them. I often heard about their arguments from my friend. He said that it had begun when he'd suggested she'd get help for her drug addictions, as apparently she was addicted to many of them. I guess it was just whatever she could get her hands on when she could afford it. That was assuming she could afford it at all.

I suggested that maybe I should help, since she and I had sort of befriended one another over time, but he feared it would only make it worse. I could see why he'd think that, seeing as she was becoming more distance and aggressive than she'd been in the past.

The one time, I was having a conversation with her. A simple conversation and I tried to tell her in a roundabout way that she should perhaps get help. She's a sharp cookie because she saw right through my 'roundabout' way of telling her this. When she became angry and started yelling at me, as well as the rest of the world, to stay out of her business, I told her we just wanted to help; that we cared. Even though she told me she understood, there was something that told me that it still wasn't okay. Apprehensively, I watched her leave and head for home that day.

Two days later a missing person's report was issued out. Apparently she hadn't gone home at all that day, but to see my friend and after another argument with him on top of her just dealing with me, she stormed out and disappeared. No one knew where she went, but we all had our speculations, mine being that which was probably the worst. I kept this worst case scenario speculation to myself; no need for my pessimism at such a time.

While the search continued, I tried to console my friend. I didn't try to give false promises that everything would turn out well, but I did try to tell him that it would be okay. When I said it would be okay, I was more or less referring to him. No matter the outcome, I wanted him to be okay.

Several long and anxiety filled weeks later, we finally heard news about her. Not once did I feel the pang of hope that rang through many of the others concerned about her. That was because within me, there was still something screaming about the worst case scenario, and undesirably, I was right.

It was police theory that after the argument with my friend she'd gone in search of drugs. Her problem was that she didn't have any money to pay, that she'd never had any money to pay and she was already in mass dept, to which her dealer had seemingly had enough of. The police apparently found her body battered, bruised and complete with being severely cut, all causing her death, in a dumpster somewhere just outside of town.

"We are gathered here today in remembrance of…"

I snap out of the memories I'd allowed myself to fall into. It hasn't been easy to hear and cope with this kind of thing, especially for those who were closer to her than I was. This group of people, of course, includes my friend.

I glance cautiously over at him, my eyes looking past him for a second to see the rest of the people all dressed in mourner's clothing. I look at the brightly coloured stain glass windows of the church, as they are holding the only light and happier mood in the whole building. Lucky them.

When my eyes finally do come to rest back on my friend's form, which held an extreme air of sadness, I see him throw me a quick look as well. Even in the rapidness of this look I could see that it was one full of sadness and lost love, but those aren't the expressions that really catch my eye. The expression that does catch my eye is one that says that he thinks that I was right. I know instantly what he thinks I was right about, too, and I can't help but look away in some form of shame.

It saddens me. I don't want to be right for once. Why did my negativity prevail over his optimism? Why couldn't he be right instead? I don't understand and maybe I never will. Whatever the reason is, it's too late to change anything now.

End