break just like glass pt.2 of 04/07/10
Tim would say I had a bad choice in lovers, Mandy said I just hadn’t found the right one. There was some truth in all that was said by my two friends. As the years went on without Jacob, Tim and I grew a lot closer than Mandy and I. I guess through me losing someone so close and Tim losing his best friend we depended on each other more often than we had before. I felt like him knowing Jacob I could share the same things with Tim that I did with Jacob. Tim and I always came to each others rescue for advice on love or date issues, Jacob issues, family things and just some friend company to play ps2. But when my relationship with my ex-girlfriend Sarah ended, things between us began to get rocky.
"You’re gonna go back to her and she’s gonna use you again. But I won’t ever use you Hayley, I love you. I’m in love with you." Stunned, I’m speechless, dumbfounded and sitting still feeling like this ride moves too fast. Really I never saw this coming. Tim was my best friend he’s not supposed to fall in love with me. Of course I love him, but just like a brother. I had no special tingles when I hung around Tim like I had with Jacob. No chemistry between him and I like that "slut" Sarah and I did. I tried to explain this to him, but my brain started thinking at a faster rate and he interrupted me with:
"He never loved you, at least that’s what he told me"
Stab; “what?” I asked him, no I begged him to tell me what he meant. Tim stated that Jacob had no real use for me that Jacob would have never had killed himself if he had really loved me. My mind and my heart skipped like a bad roll of film on a movie reel. Tim went on explaining about all these things Jacob supposedly said to him while we were together, while Jacob was alive. The thought rolled like a quarter across a table circling to a flat sudden drop; Jacob never loved me…
Tim was breaking me down, he knew how to, I give him kudos for manipulating me the way he did. Pushing all the right buttons to destroy my love for someone who I cared for so deeply. He could only have some slight idea of what destruction he was causing in my head. It’s amazing what trust can do to you.
While I was frozen in thought I could hear him drop lines like “but I’m the one who really loves you and I’ll never hurt you.”
Staring off into space and thinking about his lines. I thought and then said. “But you just did.”
"You said you’d never hurt me, but you just did. All those things about Jacob. Tim, they hurt." Tim sighed and tried to explain somehow it was better I knew the truth so I’d stop caring about Jacob.
I was starting to cry, I was getting scared I didn’t know what to believe. I didn’t want to be in the room anymore, I didn’t want Tim to see that he had won. That he had gotten to me, the sign of tears rolling down my cheeks might feel like a battle victory for him. I didn’t want to be alone with him anymore. He tried to comfort me with arms, his arms. Then he forced his kiss on me and it felt dirty. I yelled and wriggled out of his grips.
Flinging myself to his bedroom door and fleeing from his hands that tried to stop me from leaving his room. I was racing past his older brother Kevin in the hallway, crying down the stairs and into the kitchen where I found Mrs. Olsen standing there with Tupperware dishes in her hand.
You think that was it Max but you’re wrong. Tim kept calling, leaving me e-mails I didn’t want to continue to read. He told me he loved me and what he wanted to do to me. His sister was no help she just felt indifferent towards me and about the situation. Drama was starting to rise in our little scene of friends. Most them took my side, but it’s not like it matters. Because what happened in the end had happened and there is no erasing it.
I wasn’t over, weeks later after Thanksgiving break it was Christmas break and our friend T.G was having a party. Tim was there and I ignored him for the whole night up until there was eight of us left. He fallowed me upstairs and I told him to leave me alone. But he wouldn’t unless he got to talk to me. That’s all he wanted, just to talk. I told Craig I was going to talk with him; Craig was worried about me going anywhere near Tim especially alone in any room with him. I kept the door ajar which was some of the conditions Craig would let me go to talk with Tim. “if that door closes I’m busting it down and I don’t care if he did or didn’t lay a hand on you, he’s getting his ass kicked.”
Tim talked, he did all the talking, all the breaking of the furniture and locking the door with a chair in the way. I ran and he held me down and I cried. I tried to place my mind onto far off thoughts. It didn’t work Max, you know what I felt? I didn’t even know what I felt. Maybe it was a combination of things.
It started with him holding me down and I know tears were falling because he told me I looked pretty when I cried which made me not want to cry. I never looked at him Max, not while he was making his way under my shirt or unbuttoning my jeans. The feelings that waved over me while his cold hands and fingers made their ways about my body. I didn’t want to feel anymore, I didn’t want to be alive anymore, I raged against everything that he did, but I couldn’t do anything. He whispered the most hurtful things, the most disgusting things in my ear that made me churn in my stomach and wriggle within his grips while he took my pride away. I couldn’t help, but listen and the things he said made me cry, which made him kiss me harder which made me try not to cry, but I just couldn’t help to just cry floods of more tears.
The door broke open it took several kicks to break it down; I was told.
I felt his grips scratch away from my neck and wrists, the weight of his body off mine. Feeling exposed I was picked up by Craig and carried into another room full of girl friends of the men who were beating the shit out of the boy who molested the innocence away from a girl. As soon as Craig left me on the bed, he went back to where Tim and I had been “talking” to finish what the men had started.
Left alone in the room full of silent girls; I felt their eyes on me. My pants were undone, my shirt was unbutton and awry. My body was positioned awkwardly to where you could see uncovered bits and pieces of me. From their silence I could just tell that they didn’t know what to do with me. Another room full of burdened people on my account of my silly emotions. Rolling over I pulled up my pants and buttoned my shirt as I sat up to face them. Their eyes all on me, one of them was crying and she just came towards me with open arms to wrap me up in her embrace.
From that hug I knew what she felt; there was nothing she could do or say that would make what had happened that night go away. Nothing. She understood that. Not a hug could give back what I lost in that room. The other two girls then shared what was left of my body. One squeezed my hands and the other combed my hair, the first one rocked me to comfort. I began to sob, sob and sob. I sobbed so hard and so long it felt like there was nothing that was going to come out anymore.
Max, not even what Jacob taught me could release this emotion I felt for the rest of my life. I’ve tried to cut…I even tried to re-open the same special scar where Jacob first showed me how to relieve my emotions from me. Nothing would work Max, nothing. Not one thing could I do to make this feeling of shame and disgust for myself go away. Even all the cuts and deep wounds that I made wouldn’t make it go away.
He scarred me like a miner scars the Earth for coal; A big chunk of me is missing and now it’s too big to fill. At least that’s what I thought then, that day when I took a blade to that special scar…Another door was kicked in, but I don’t actually remember that.
Fatigue made my head so heavy as I lifted it up. Soon realizing I was leaning against my bed on the floor of my bedroom. My father was looking at me and when I met his gaze he patted me on the knee and said: “We can fix this” He then got up to get his first aid kit to mend the wound that was currently bleeding through my t-shirt and soiling my jeans. It looked a lot worse than it was. But I cried with fear that I might die from the loss of so much blood. I’ve never seen so much blood in my life of sixteen years.
That was the day I started to heal. As my father placed the bandages around my wrist, I imagined at that, literally, someone setting me up to heal mentally. I was at least thinking it was time to heal, signs of bandages holding you together and all… What a tragedy it takes to have someone finally see it isn’t the end yet. We all have to hit rock bottom to see where we can be.
I meant to ask you Max; Have you ever hit rock bottom?