She lay beside me, moving around softly in her sleep to hold me tighter, while I lay awake and tried to figure out why she was there. I'd hurt her, not with a fist or a cruel word, but instead with my writing. I'd turned my greatest talent into a weapon.
We'd had our differences, she and I, and I'd turned to writing to deal with those problems and to gain some semblance of control over them. Month after month, problem after problem, I let my emotions spill onto the pages. It was a safe way to manage the pain and get it out to where it can be controlled, and then it could dissipate harmlessly.
Anger at losing her, fear of hurting her, jealousy that lurked beneath the surface, and a dozen other dark thoughts could be written out and let go. However, much like a mad scientist, I turned those emotions into a contrast of the girl it was about, a dark Frankenstein of evil, and a girl who could and would willingly hurt me. With each stroke of my pen, I molded the pain into a woman as evil as my friend was good.
It was far easier to blame some girl than a mess of emotions and situations, so I blamed her, blamed this evil antithesis of my friend in my stories. This woman was a liar, a cheat, and manipulative to no end, and she'd play with my emotions as easily as a child plays with toys. She was a focal point for my pain and I could wage war on her and my emotions with no problems.
The problem was, it was impossible to tell my friend apart from her counterpart.
When she found out, we'd argued about my writing, and during the argument, I saw the scars for the first time. Scars etched in pencil and anger, scars that I had unknowingly given her. I'd made my writing too personal, and now every single scar I'd given my writings was on her. I never meant to hurt her, but I did, and now every hateful word uttered by my battle with my emotions had scarred her.
She'd left with tears in her eyes, and hurt on her face, and I'd been left to wonder where it had gone wrong, unable to see the consequences of my actions.
I didn't know where we stood, and worst of all, I had no idea how to fix it.
Then the crisis happened.
A family member got in the hospital and things fell apart, and I didn't know who to call. She was the only one who was close enough to help, so I called her, cursing myself the entire way. If she picked up at all, we'd probably just talk for a bit before she hung up and we gave each other space.
What I didn't expect was her coming to me.
My door opened as her voice filled my ears. "I came as soon as I heard. Is your dad okay? Answer me please!"
Her footsteps carried her to my living room, where I was huddled on the couch, my head in my hands and my stomach churning as she walked over.
"I thought everything was okay but it's not," I muttered, shivering softly as my worry and my nerves warred in my stomach, here I was seeking help from a person I had hurt, however unintentionally for a bigger problem. "I'm sorry, so sorry." I whimpered, letting everything crumble around me.
"I'm here." She whispered, putting her arms around me. "I promise, forget about us and our troubles" She soothed, rubbing my back. "Focus on the here and now. We'll deal with everything else later."
"My dad's fine." I finally choked out "Just had a fall. My family's with him. But with you and the hospital and all this stress…"
"It's overwhelming, I know." She soothed, her eyes comforting "But you'll endure." She'd seen my panic attacks before, she knew I got overwhelmed by things that were out of my control.
"Will we?" I asked softly, staring up into her eyes.
She only pressed my head to her chest, letting me listen to her heartbeat, as she brought her legs underneath her to make herself comfortable. "Just rest okay? Let me heal you."
I nodded, knowing that while I didn't get an answer, hearing her heartbeat was more than enough.
That's how we ended up cuddling together in bed, my head pressed against her heart as she held me tight, and I was awake.
I had no idea how to fix our broken relationship, and I was terrified any action would just make it worse. I'd hurt her, no matter how unwillingly, and I knew it needed to be fixed.
That question tormented me as I rolled out of her arms and stumbled to the bathroom, retching into the toilet several times as I struggled to keep myself both calm and quiet.
"Dang it, dang it, dang it!" I cursed, gripping the edge as I vomited again, wishing that all the pain and nerves and my mistakes could just force their way out of me like the contents of my stomach did.
Her hands found their way around my shoulders as she entered my bathroom, chuckling as she threaded her fingers through my hair. "You know, if you were a girl I would hold your hair back while you threw up, instead I'll just massage you."
I nodded, standing up and wiping my mouth as I splashed water on my face. "I'm fine, just worried. Dad's gonna be fine, but that's all I'm sure of right now. I'm really so-"
She took my hand and led me back to the bed with a smile, cuddling me again. "If you say I'm sorry one more time, I'm leaving. So please don't. We'll worry about everything else in the morning."
I wrapped my arms around her and smiled as she rested her head on mine. "I don't know how we will, but I think we'll rebuild. We're going to be okay."
"I'll do whatever I have to to put everything back together, but how can you be sure?" I asked.
"I'm not, but we both give one hundred percent to everything we do, why not this?" Her fingers rooted themselves in my hair again as she stroked me like an animal, and it felt good.
Still, as my eyes wandered over her body, I could still see the scars I'd given her. My hands reached out to run all over her back and sides, rubbing the scars only I could see slowly and hating myself for each one I gave her. All because I was arrogant enough to war against an antithesis of her, instead of my own feelings. The wounds from a close friend burned longer than a thousand cuts from a thousand enemies, and somehow I'd soothe those wounds. Somehow.
So I nodded to myself and eventually fell asleep against her, letting my breathing even out and the worry fade away. No matter what, I would keep my promise and heal her.
We'd rebuild and be stronger than ever, and I would never stop paying for my mistake. Not until the last bit of hurt had faded from her eyes, and she looked at me with the full trust and friendship she once did.
As she slumbered against me, I knew that I'd earn it back piece by piece, and it would be worth it.
I've had some problems with friends and family this weekend, so the Halloween stories I had planned to write are going to be published later this week.
As always please leave a review, feel free to check out my other works, and have a great day!