A VERY DYSFUNCTIONAL RELATIONSHIP:
"I'll love you no matter what." The girl whispered yet again.
Her tears are celebrated. Her tragedy is immortalised. Songs and stories and poems and paintings are created to express her cries, her sighs. And they resonate with millions. Everyone cries along with her.
"Didn't I tell you it's over? It was just a fling, babe. And we had fun, but I'm not the guy you're looking for." The boy said, visibly uncomfortable by her raw honesty.
He's always the villain in the story. He promised her the world and threw her away. He made her laugh and looked the other way every time she cried. He told her forever, but changed just after a few months. He always chose himself before her. He broke her heart into a million tiny pieces, as he knew he would do from the very beginning.
"Why? Why are you so trusting? Can't you see the world is filled with bastards like me? Because I am babe, I'm a sick bastard for using you like this. I'm telling you right now, this has to stop. You live your life trying to save everyone, but I can't be saved. So don't bother. Don't do this to yourself. And don't look at me like that. Go! Leave and never come back. This was the last time." The boy's voice cracked as he yelled at her, yet again.
But you know what the real tragedy is? She cried for him, not for herself. Because he was weak. He was so broken, he couldn't stand being loved by someone so wholesome. Every time she got close enough to see all the ugly pieces inside of him, he shut her out. She kept coming back though, and his rejections kept getting more and more violent.
"Hey, it's been a while. I was thinking about you last night, maybe I came off a little rude the last time we talked. But it's for your own good, you know? You shouldn't involve your heart with a guy like me, I really don't deserve it. But I do miss hanging out with you and my place is empty. You could come over, if you want?" The boy asked, sounding hopeful and embarrassed.
Her naivety is mocked. Her stupidity is glamourised. Movies and plays and sonnets and novels are created to warn people not to be dependent like her. And they resonate with millions. Everyone was weak once. Everyone saw themselves in her mistakes. Everyone condemned her.
"I'll come over in an hour." The girl said, her voice breathless with anticipation.
And in a world full of the "strong, independent types", she came off as a fool. A silly girl who had no spine and kept taking him back. She was so weak, she made them sick! No wonder he treated her so badly, she deserved it.
But you know what the real tragedy is? She knew he was alone, always alone. She was the only one who saw through the roughness, the anger, the hatred and the self hatred. She saw all the burnt bits and felt his fear. And she gathered up the strength to face his demons every time she got close to his soul. Her strength was immeasurable, her patience endless.
"Good! God, it's been so long! And I really do miss you, you know? In fact, I'll show you exactly how much I missed you as soon as you walk in through the door." The boy exclaimed, relief coursing through him.
Their story was so tragic, but the real tragedy would remain unknown. The world exploited the hell out of them. He was the asshole and she was the doormat. They were both damned for eternity. They both deserved each other.
"I missed you too." The girl replied, pouring her whole heart into those four words.
And the world lived happily ever after.
