everyone–”
“No.
I’m saying that you’ve had crap thrown at you. You can either clean yourself up
and keep going and prove everyone wrong – show them you didn’t deserve to get
it in the first place. Or you can roll around in it and think you deserve it,
and start acting like you do.”
Oh.
“Is that what you did?”
She
nodded. “Crappy things happened to me and I gave up. And believe me, when you
give up, the crap just piles on thicker until pretty soon you don’t even
realize it’s crap anymore.” She inched closer to me, her eyes piercing mine.
“Stacy, if I had the chance to go back and live it again – to be in your shoes
– I’d do it in a heartbeat. Because you’re going to walk away from this and
figure out it wasn’t your fault.
“One
day you’ll look back and realize that everyone you grew up with didn’t get it
right. They didn’t actually know you. They didn’t really hear you. They were
just so messed up, they threw all their own crap on you.
“But
the thing is, if you can understand that it’s their problem, you’ll brush it
all off and walk away clean. While they’ll still be looking for other people to
dump on. You’ll win. It’ll be worth it.”
I
couldn’t look away from her. “I don’t know…” Her words seemed so right. But I
didn’t want to believe them because it meant I had to fight. And I was so tired
of fighting.
She
ran a hand through her hair and looked as tired as I felt. “There’s nothing I
can tell you that will make this easier,” she whispered, “But you have to keep
going. Because… because it took me this long to see the truth of that. And Mom
still doesn’t get it. That’s why she’s such a jerk. If you can believe that the
problem is theirs – know it’s true – you won’t end up like me, or her. You’ll
be better. Stronger.”
“But
everything else thinks it’s me! Even if I believed what you’re saying,
it wouldn’t change what they thought.”
“True,
but you’ll feel better.” She sighed. “Look, the only thing I know is
I’ve always had a big hole inside. And no matter how I tried to be who they
wanted me to be, no one ever loved me enough to fill the hole up. In fact, the
harder I tried, the less they had to offer. So… it’s got to be better to fight.
It’s got to be better not to give yourself up for other people. But there’s got
to be more than that too.” She gave a watery smile. “When you figure out the
rest, let me know.”
The
sadness on her face scared me. And made me feel bad for her. I swallowed. Hard.
“I’m
sorry about what I said…”
She
looked down, shook her head. “Just… don’t turn into one of them, okay?”
“I
don’t think we need to worry about that,” I muttered.
Older
Me opened her mouth, but then she jerked around. “He’s back. I have to go.”
I
nodded.
“Will
you be okay?” she whispered.
I
nodded again. “I think so.” Not really.
“I’ll
try to see you tomorrow, but if I don’t show up, don’t freak out okay? I might
have to give this some space to calm him down.”
Then
she was gone.
I
waited a minute, but she didn’t return and I had a bad feeling it was going to
be a little while before we could have a normal conversation. Sighing, I turned
back to my bed. There was no way I could sleep. But I couldn’t stand lying in
bed staring at the wall. I needed to draw some more.
Careful
not to crinkle the papers all over it, I got back in bed and picked up my
sketchbook. I couldn’t stop thinking about the events of the night.
Shying
away from the image of Mark in my head, I grabbed my acrylic crayons and rubbed
Karyn into existence on a sheet of heavy cartridge paper. The bold colors and
shiny effect suited her edges. I wasn’t happy with her hair, which came out
more gray than the platinum I’d been aiming for. But her eyes were perfect –
scraped out of the waxy crayon with a razorblade. They augured into you.
Finn
was there too, also in
“No.
I’m saying that you’ve had crap thrown at you. You can either clean yourself up
and keep going and prove everyone wrong – show them you didn’t deserve to get
it in the first place. Or you can roll around in it and think you deserve it,
and start acting like you do.”
Oh.
“Is that what you did?”
She
nodded. “Crappy things happened to me and I gave up. And believe me, when you
give up, the crap just piles on thicker until pretty soon you don’t even
realize it’s crap anymore.” She inched closer to me, her eyes piercing mine.
“Stacy, if I had the chance to go back and live it again – to be in your shoes
– I’d do it in a heartbeat. Because you’re going to walk away from this and
figure out it wasn’t your fault.
“One
day you’ll look back and realize that everyone you grew up with didn’t get it
right. They didn’t actually know you. They didn’t really hear you. They were
just so messed up, they threw all their own crap on you.
“But
the thing is, if you can understand that it’s their problem, you’ll brush it
all off and walk away clean. While they’ll still be looking for other people to
dump on. You’ll win. It’ll be worth it.”
I
couldn’t look away from her. “I don’t know…” Her words seemed so right. But I
didn’t want to believe them because it meant I had to fight. And I was so tired
of fighting.
She
ran a hand through her hair and looked as tired as I felt. “There’s nothing I
can tell you that will make this easier,” she whispered, “But you have to keep
going. Because… because it took me this long to see the truth of that. And Mom
still doesn’t get it. That’s why she’s such a jerk. If you can believe that the
problem is theirs – know it’s true – you won’t end up like me, or her. You’ll
be better. Stronger.”
“But
everything else thinks it’s me! Even if I believed what you’re saying,
it wouldn’t change what they thought.”
“True,
but you’ll feel better.” She sighed. “Look, the only thing I know is
I’ve always had a big hole inside. And no matter how I tried to be who they
wanted me to be, no one ever loved me enough to fill the hole up. In fact, the
harder I tried, the less they had to offer. So… it’s got to be better to fight.
It’s got to be better not to give yourself up for other people. But there’s got
to be more than that too.” She gave a watery smile. “When you figure out the
rest, let me know.”
The
sadness on her face scared me. And made me feel bad for her. I swallowed. Hard.
“I’m
sorry about what I said…”
She
looked down, shook her head. “Just… don’t turn into one of them, okay?”
“I
don’t think we need to worry about that,” I muttered.
Older
Me opened her mouth, but then she jerked around. “He’s back. I have to go.”
I
nodded.
“Will
you be okay?” she whispered.
I
nodded again. “I think so.” Not really.
“I’ll
try to see you tomorrow, but if I don’t show up, don’t freak out okay? I might
have to give this some space to calm him down.”
Then
she was gone.
I
waited a minute, but she didn’t return and I had a bad feeling it was going to
be a little while before we could have a normal conversation. Sighing, I turned
back to my bed. There was no way I could sleep. But I couldn’t stand lying in
bed staring at the wall. I needed to draw some more.
Careful
not to crinkle the papers all over it, I got back in bed and picked up my
sketchbook. I couldn’t stop thinking about the events of the night.
Shying
away from the image of Mark in my head, I grabbed my acrylic crayons and rubbed
Karyn into existence on a sheet of heavy cartridge paper. The bold colors and
shiny effect suited her edges. I wasn’t happy with her hair, which came out
more gray than the platinum I’d been aiming for. But her eyes were perfect –
scraped out of the waxy crayon with a razorblade. They augured into you.
Finn
was there too, also in
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