24. Lydia
Lydia
It’s dead silent when I wake up this morning.
No overwhelming dread, no panic, no fear, not even a single buzz of my phone from any missed calls or texts.
At first, I can’t place what’s different or why I don’t feel the anxiety that normally sits on my chest, but then everything from last night starts to piece back together slowly.
I’m shocked by how I feel this morning. There’s no pain, no hurt, no sadness…
just…peacefulness? I don’t understand it.
I think I’m just at peace with the decision to leave Eli…
for good. No more going back. No more being guilted into staying.
No more just letting time pass while I’m hurting and unhappy.
Sadly, the peace is quickly replaced with a wave of unease when I realize the only reason I was able to get a full night’s sleep was because my phone died last night, and I was able to fall asleep before the undoubtable flood of texts and calls from Eli came in after the breakup.
I force myself up and drag my body out of the bed, shivering as my feet touch the cool hardwood.
I grab my phone from beside my pillow and walk into my bathroom, plugging it in next to my vanity.
Looking up, the reflection looking back in the mirror haunts me.
My eyes are red-rimmed, my skin is pale, and I have dark circles that almost look like bruises, reminding me that I don’t think I’ve ever known actual peace a day in my life.
It’s just been one fucked up tragedy after the other.
I lift a trembling hand, brushing it across the tender spot beneath my jaw where his fingers were days ago.
The pain might almost be gone, but the memories are still just as raw.
I wonder how long it’ll take to stop feeling his touch every time I move.
Turning on my phone feels like inviting disaster in, but I know I can’t avoid it forever. I watch as it lights up and feel the anxiety getting louder, waiting for what I know will be on there. It buzzes alive with an instant onslaught of notifications, just like I predicted.
12:23 AM
Eli: Lydia, please answer. You don’t understand what you mean to me. Without you, I’m nothing
12:40 AM
Eli: My head is so messed up Lyd. I’m broken. It’s not your fault, I get it, but I swear, I’m working on it. You make me want to be better
1:05 AM
Eli: I’ve never been good enough. My parents never showed me how to love someone.
They cheated on each other, fought constantly, and ended up divorced…
they taught me that love was pain, and that hurting people was how you keep them.
But I don’t want to be like that anymore.
I need you, Lydia. Without you, there’s no reason to even try
My chest tightens, and the guilt I feel in the pit of my stomach grows.
I know what he’s doing. I know he’s trying to pull me back into his orbit, manipulating my compassion, and using his pain to trap me in the cycle with him.
But, still, knowing it doesn’t stop me from feeling it—this awful ache, the relentless urge to fix him, to soothe him, even when he’s the one tearing me apart.
1:24 AM
Eli: Lydia, please. I know you’re reading these. I can’t breathe without you. I swear, I get it now. I’ll do therapy. I’ll do anything. Just talk to me
1:26 AM
Eli: Katie was the worst mistake I’ve ever made. I never loved her. She was just there. I hate myself so bad for what I did
1:32 AM
Eli: She meant nothing. She wasn’t you. She’ll never be you
1:44 AM
Eli: I only want you. I can’t even think about life with anyone else
Yeah, well, I no longer want to be wanted by you. I’m putting myself first, finally.
I toss my phone back onto the vanity and place my hands on the side of the cool marble countertop, dropping my head in exhaustion.
I can’t help but be flooded with flashes of memories, memories of my father’s abuse, memories of the first time Eli put his hands on me, memories of everyone who failed me to end up here.
Is it actually me? I mean, I’m the common denominator in all of this?
Am I the one failing myself? Am I the real villain here?
All I can do is shove down the thoughts, lock them away, and keep moving. Life doesn’t care. It doesn’t wait for me to feel better, even after it’s done everything to break me, it keeps going and just expects me to keep up.
I grab a breakfast bar on the way out of the house, knowing it will probably be one of the only things I can keep down today.
I try to force myself to eat most days, knowing that when I don’t, my body reminds me how much I don’t take care of it.
The anxiety gets louder and more physical, the stress headaches get worse, and it’s almost impossible to focus in school.
All things I’ve gotten used to pushing through.
From the time I parked in the student parking lot to when I walked in, everything felt more off than normal.
The school hallway felt suffocating, and the eyes of everyone burning into me felt like tiny pinpricks.
I feel their stares clawing along my spine, their whispers making my skin crawl.
As I walk up to my locker, I notice a folded-up paper slipped halfway inside.
I tug it out with shaky fingers, already knowing it won’t be good, and honestly, wanting to just throw it away.
But the part of me I hate most needs to know what it says.
Everyone is watching, so I try not to let my emotions show, not wanting to feed into this sick obsession they have to tear people down and watch them crumble for sport.
Aren’t their lives perfect enough? Why do they need to ruin mine? What do they get out of it?
I open it.
“Eli deserved better. You deserve nothing freak.”
My heart starts to pound painfully as soon as I read it.
I crumble the note up, forcing myself to breathe.
A group of girls walk past, and I see Katie front and center.
Her eyes catch mine, cold and malicious, her smirk viciously pleased.
She leans closer to her friends, whispering.
I keep watching as they walk away, too wrapped up in my thoughts to realize anyone approaching me until I jump at the contact of a hand on my shoulder.
When I turn to see who it is, my heart sinks even more.
Another girl—Alex—who has always made it very clear what she thinks about me since I’ve moved to this school.
She leans in and asks, “How does it feel knowing he chose her over you?”
I look at her in disbelief, but can’t respond.
Everything inside me tells me to stand up for myself, fight back, tell everyone the truth, tell them how wrong they are about me, but I can’t.
I don’t have the strength. I don’t even care enough anymore.
I don’t think it would even make a difference.
They didn’t like me before I started dating the devil in disguise; why would that change with anything I said?
Heat rushes up my neck, flooding my face, and tears prick painfully behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I can’t, not here, not now. I’m not giving them what they all want.
Grabbing my books, I slam my locker shut, only to see Harper walking up hesitantly, concern obvious in her expression. For a split second, an ounce of hope stirs, but I quickly shut it down.
“Lydia,” Harper starts gently, her voice low and concerned. “Are you—”
“Don’t,” I cut her off sharply, voice shaking despite trying to push the emotions back down. “I don’t want your fake concern.”
Harper’s shoulders slump, eyes falling away from mine. “Fine,” she murmurs.
I push past her, hurrying down the hall, but the whispers follow me. I don’t even think most of them are talking about me, but these people have fucked with my head so badly that it’s all I can feel and think about here.
In class, the seat beside mine stays empty. No one wants to sit next to the pariah. My phone vibrates, and I glance down to see notifications popping up rapidly.
New tags. New posts. New lies. All from bitches with shiny exteriors and rotted insides.
“Imagine cheating on someone like Eli. She’s insane.”
Literally, where are they getting this information from?
“Finally, everyone sees who Lydia really is—just a manipulative psycho.”
“You’d think she’d get the hint that she doesn’t belong here. Never has and definitely never with him.”
Then I see more texts still coming in randomly from Eli, saying the same guilt-tripping lines that no longer hold any weight to me.
My throat tightens, stomach twisting. It’s suffocating, the way the room feels smaller, the air is harder to breathe in.
My claustrophobia doesn’t make sense in this situation, but it still all feels the same.
I tuck my phone in my backpack, trying to ignore everyone.
Going through class, I feel like I’m here…
I’m staring at the board, staring at the teacher, staring at my papers…
but I don’t take any of it in; I can’t. My brain feels like someone is watching a VHS tape over and over, and as soon as they make it to the end, they quickly rewind and keep forcing me to vividly relive it all.
Lunch period has always been hell for me.
The only time when everyone gets to clique up and talk freely to each other, and I’m always the outcast on display.
I keep my head low, sliding into a seat at an empty table in the corner.
I haven’t really eaten anything all day, but my appetite is nonexistent anyway, so what does it matter?
A few moments later, I feel someone bump into me and then feel the cool, wet liquid of spilled food down my shirt.
I quickly stand up and see a girl pretending to be sorry while laughing through her fake apology.
She just stands there and watches for my reaction or retaliation, but I refuse to give her either.
I just run to the bathroom, cleaning myself off and hiding there until it’s all over.
I can’t stomach being here for the last period of school, so I make a beeline to my car after lunch, skipping the rest of the day.
I just wanna go somewhere where nobody knows me, nobody judges me, nobody hates me, nobody hurts me.
I turn my car on and just sit there, trying to focus on what’s outside of this place, outside of these people.
I imagine what it’ll be like at this time next year.
Will I be happy at college? Will I get to start over?
Will I make any friends, or will I always be the outcast?
Will Simone still go to A&M, or does she want to go somewhere else now that we aren’t friends? Does she really hate me?
I feel the tears start to fall at the thought of her.
Thinking about how badly I made my words hurt her on purpose the last time we talked.
How even when she reached out again after, I ignored her.
I knew that as long as I was with him, I couldn’t have her too.
How stupid was I to let him ruin the one friendship I had with someone who genuinely and purely loved me and would have always been there if I hadn’t pushed her away?
I pull out of the school parking lot, not really knowing where I’m going, just knowing I need to go somewhere far away from here where I can breathe.
I pull into the Niven’s Landing parking lot and take my time walking down the trail to the beach area at Lake Wylie. Thankful when I see no one is here, and I can have a moment alone, I let out a relieved breath.
Sitting down on the sand near the water, I pull my knees close to my chest, taking in a deep breath of the lake water air. This is one of my favorite places to go when I need to clear my head, and more than likely talk to Camilla.
I take another deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts and what I want to say to her.
“When will it get easier?” I say, shaking my head.
“When is it my turn to be happy? Fuck. If you were here, you would have already told me how stupid I was being, and probably forced me to get my shit together…I really need you for that. But I guess I have to do it on my own now. I think that might be for the best, though. Maybe I need to learn that nobody else can show you your self-worth. You have to find it on your own. It wouldn’t be self-worth if someone else had to give it to you.
I’m going to try to find it, I promise. And I hope I can make you proud when I do. ”
* * *
By the time I make it home, I’m numb. I’ve been drained of all my emotions, and I just want to crawl into bed, hide under the covers, and not come out until I figure out how to be happy again.
But as soon as I pull into the driveway, my heart drops because I see Eli’s car is parked in front of the house.
I park in the driveway behind Mark’s truck, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles go white.
I watch him in the rear-view mirror as he approaches my car and then taps the window gently.
“Lydia, please,” he begs. “I just wanna talk.”
I step out slowly, scared of what he might try to do, but not wanting to show him any weakness. I just stand there, leaning against my car for a moment, staring at him with my arms crossed, visibly cold and disconnected.
“I told you, Eli. We’re done.”
He reaches out instinctively to touch me, but when I flinch, he freezes.
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, hands raised in surrender. “I swear, Lydia, I’m working on myself. I’m trying.”
“I believe you.” I don’t actually believe that. “But you can’t do it with me. You need help, Eli…real help.”
“I know.” His voice cracks. “I’m in so much pain. I hate that I ever hurt you, but I honestly don’t think I can get better without you. Please.”
Tears gather in his eyes, and my chest aches for him. “You have to,” I whisper. “Because I can’t survive you anymore.”
“I’m so sorry,” he repeats. “I hate myself, I really do. I wanna show you the love you deserve. I wanna be someone worth you loving again. You’re the only reason I’m still here, Lydia.”
It physically hurts to hear him say that. “Please, don’t say that. Don’t put that on me.”
He steps closer, his eyes frantically searching for a way back into my heart. “Then don’t leave me.”
“I have to,” I whisper, trying to hold back my own tears. “I have to choose myself now.”
I quickly move towards the house and hear his steps behind me. Just then, Mark opens the front door, and he notices immediately that something is off. Eli backs away slowly, but I can still feel his eyes locked on me as I walk up the porch.
“You alright, Lydia?” Mark asks gently, staring past me at Eli.
I nod silently, turning back to see Eli finally giving up and heading back to his car.
Mark guides me in, and I quickly run up the stairs to avoid everyone and their questions.